A World of Delights Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS HEREIN ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. I do not condone any abuse of any kind IRL, and everything herein is just fantasy. Do not attempt to re-enact anything you read here. All BDSM activities should be Safe, Sane and Consensual. What I describe in my stories is varying degrees of abuse which make for wonderful fantasies, but would in reality be awful. To quote the wonderful Gigglinggoblin: Real-life con-noncon requires a lot of trust, safewords, and other things a fantasy can fudge a little. Enjoy the kink responsibly, and enjoy the story! If you feel inclined, please get in touch, I'd love to talk about my writing or any related kink stuff!

Summary: A guy escapes from a confined walled city to explore the world that was abandoned years ago. What will he find? Monstergirls. Lots of em

Contains: F/fm, monstergirls, gentle femdom, femdom, bondage, lots of tickling, milking, tease and denial, edging.

DARK THEMES: Bad-ends aka permanent/semi-permanent slavery or capture, semi-creepy monstergirls.

*****

Face forced into her chest now, and not just gravity pulling their pendulous weight down over him, he struggled for breath as he felt her hands dance over his slight, naked form. He squealed in ticklish agony as fingertips traced over the globes of his ass, up his lower spine, the backs of his knees, under his arms, and more. Her hands were a blur, and seemed to know exactly where he was ticklish. Although, with that venom now coating his entire body, much thanks to her hands lathering it across him, everywhere was ticklish – and where had been ticklish before was now enough to make him see stars as she tickled and teased his overly-sensitive skin.

Suddenly, she flipped him around, and he looked down to see he was already half cocooned. His mouth was covered before he could let out another scream, his fitful giggles reduced to a muted, muffled groan as she hummed while she worked. Slowly, she rotated him again, and kissed him on the nose. His eyes were covered on the next pass, and now, blinded, he felt the webs get thicker, and thicker, as her venom soaked in more, and more. His heart raced as he felt the claustrophobia settle in. And his cock was, quite frankly, throbbing harder than it ever had in its silken prison.

Suddenly he felt himself held aloft, and they were moving again. He tried to turn his head, but couldn't see a thing, and he could barely move a millimetre in the thick cocoon. Rick groaned, trying to voice his concerns at all, but merely felt a slight pat on his head in response.

“Nearly there now,” she added, reassuringly, petting his cocooned head as if it were a tiny creature... which in her hands Rick supposed he was.

Suddenly, they stopped. With a gut wrenching flip, he felt himself hanging upright, and tried his best to move. The cocoon rocked ever so slightly, barely perceptible, and the woman barely even seemed to notice. That didn't bode well.

“Now, my dear, nothing else to distract us... let's get to really know each other,” she said soothingly, and he felt her hands slowly moving up and down his mummified form.

His arms were stretched up above him, as if hanging on to something, but the constriction around his wrists, just tight enough to be comfortable, was what truly kept him prostrated. Rick could immediately tell she knew exactly what she was doing, and a doomed feeling of certainty began to sink in. He gasped, however, as he felt the webs parting, and wondered if he might actually be allowed to go free. That hope was dashed, however, when he heard her breathy giggles as she merely began to allow strategic parts of his body be exposed.

Starting from the top, she exposed his neck and traced a finger down from his chin, his armpits and sides, and waistline too. His inner thighs were exposed and held parted just enough to allow her to reach between them, and his feet. Rick's ass felt the cool air against it, and he writhed in nervous anticipation... and a non-negligible dose of libidinous desire. At this point his sex drive was truly in overdrive.

“Now sweetie, time for the important part...” she cooed, and with a delicate finger, freed his trapped cock, and let his balls lie loose on the gossamer material, before creating a webbed pouch for them to rest in, which left them soaking in a steadily growing pool of venom.

“So pretty...” she cooed, and realized she was speaking directly to his cock as her breath tickled across it.

He panicked once more when he realized just how much even her breath tickled, and was terrified to wonder how sensitive he had become while trapped in this cocoon. How long had he been here? It couldn't have been more than ten minutes, and his sanity was already straining. How long was he going to be trapped here? And how badly would it tickle if he was kept here longer?

Rick didn't have to wait long to find out. Her tongue began to bathe his cock, and he shrieked into his webbed gag, nose flaring as he hyperventilated from just that teasing touch alone.

“If you thought the venom on my webs was strong... wait until you feel my mouth sweetie...” she whispered, and sunk his cock between her lips, until it was hilted in her hot, wet mouth.

As her tongue lavished it with caring caresses, he felt tiny pinpricks of tingling immediately, which only grew stronger the longer his cock was kept captive in her mouth. He felt, rather than heard, her giggles vibrate through his rock-stiff cock, trapped and at the mercy of her slathering attentions, as she began to recognize the signs of his own recognition of the danger.

Rick began straining with all his might to free himself, but merely succeeded in setting his cocoon swinging slightly back a forth, unwittingly plunging his cock ever so slightly into and out of her mouth in tiny swinging motions. Delightedly, she gave his cocoon a tiny push, and let his cock slip slightly from between her imprisoning lips, before lavishing it with a tongue-bath each time it was forced back between them by his momentum.

Groaning with unadulterated lust, his worries were soon overridden by the absolute primal need to cum. He could feel as his cock slipped in and out of her mouth as, little by little, he grew closer and closer to what was undoubtedly going to be the best orgasm of his life. For now, at least, he gave up on any pretense of wanting to escape. Right now, blind to all other senses, unable to see or hear or even think straight... all he wanted was to cum.

Just as he began to feel heat rising from his cock, and felt the tickling, itchy urge to cum rising in his cock, he felt rather than heard her laughter around his cock.

Her four hands each found a delicate spot, exposed from his cocoon, and got to work driving him insane. Her fingers scurried and toyed with expertise that was unnatural, and could only be the product of many lifetimes of tickling torture practice. She tickled along the underside of his foot, held taut by the webs expertly. She traced delicately up and down his thighs, spidering around his knees. She curled her fingers under his arms as if tickling the chin of a kitten, and traced around and under his neck, as if wanting to feel the vibrations of his all-but-silent laughter.

Suddenly his singular focus on cumming was disrupted, unable to focus, he felt his orgasm wilt under her merciless ticklish touch. Even as her tongue lapped under his cockhead, or ran in circles wildly around the rim of his cock, he found that no matter what he did, he could not bring himself to orgasm. Rick was totally at her mercy... and it was clear she had none.

“Oh your poor little thing... were you close? Did the mean spider lady do something to stop you cumming? Oh my... poor thing...” she cooed in mocking motherly tones, and let her lips tease at the tip of his cock as she spoke, not letting up even for a second with the physical torture, even when taking time to tease him verbally.

His animalistic screams were now audible, even through layers of sickly sweet smelling webs. As if trying to speak through his nose, he whined and grunted, desperate to put his agony into words, but denied even the opportunity to beg her for the mercy he was now sure she had no intentions of providing.

She would slow her tickling to the point where she was barely moving her fingers – although in his hyper-sensitive and horny state, even that was enough to send his body shivering with ticklish agony, like trapped and ticklish jelly – but it was always a trap. Every time he felt himself getting closer to orgasm, every time he thought her tickling was letting up just enough that his arousal might overcome it, she would wait until he was right on the cusp of the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life, before truly digging in, seeking to extract the maximum ticklish suffering possible. Her mouth, a truly devilish prison from which he both simultaneously would have done anything to free his prison from, and yet was doing everything in his power to thrust into with more and more desperation, felt like a boiling, roiling cavern within which her tongue was the warden of his imprisoned cock. It batted his cock from side to side playfully, her preternaturally prehensile tongue almost having a mind of its own. She would curl it around his cock like a serpent and stroke it, only to flutter the tip of her tongue just under his head, driving him wild with lust.

At last, she pursed her lips, and pulled back with a sickeningly wet pop. As bubbles of pre-cum and saliva mixed to dribble down her chin and onto her titanic breasts, she began to trace her fingertips along the underside of his cock.

“Well sweetie, I must say, you must be the most sensitive prey I've ever caught. Poor thing, you must be in such agony...” she mewled in a saccharine sweet tone of impish delight, “I bet you'd do anything to cum by now...”

For a while she just delighted herself, tickling his cock, and tracing the outline of his balls, bubbling away in a cauldron of venomous saturation.

“I know... I bet I know what you would love right now... is a nice, firm grip from my hand... jerking your cock...” she mused idly, while barely grazing his cock with her forefinger and thumb in a cruel parody of her words.

At that, Rick practically went berserk – the prospect of a truly satisfying, firm grip on his cock, a handjob right now sounded like the most beautiful prospect he could dream of.

“Only problem is...” she whispered softly, just loud enough for him to hear, “if I did that, this little cock of yours would definitely cum... and then... oh my, you have no idea how ticklish you would be... if you think you're sensitive NOW...”

Her dark words chilled him to the bone, even as he thrusted feebly in his cocooned prison against her fingertip as it tickled directly under his head.

“Not to worry sweetie, I know just how to make sure that cock of yours won't cum...” she said soothingly, as she began to loop her fingers around the base of his cock, constricting it ever so slightly with a ring of webbing.

“There we are!” she delighted, and began to trace her fingers along his cock which, now tensed by the webbing cock-ring, was throbbing and thick, and if anything even more sensitive to her touch.

“Now there's no way you can cum... isn't that lovely, sweetie?” she asked, and he felt her breath on his cheek, hot and wet through the cocoon.

“Now I can do this...” she said conspiratorially, and began to slowly, delicately stroke his cock in her hand, “and no matter how much I do, you won't cum...”

Sobbing openly into his gag now, he felt his tears begin to well against the spongy material which dried his cheeks like a caring lover, when she was in fact as far away as could be from such as thing.

He felt her panting breath against his exposed neck as she lapped at his skin, tongue tracing up and down, and he jumped what little he could in his prison as she latched on to his neck. Waiting to feel a pair of fangs sink into him, he instead felt her tongue and lips smothering his sensitive skin in passionate kisses, which were doing nothing to help the all-encompassing need in his cock to cum at any cost.

Her fingers, at last, began to clasp around his cock in earnest, and he drooled in satisfaction at finally feeling what he had been straining to do, wrenching his hands in their mittened bonds in a desperate desire to touch himself again.

Rick groaned, screamed, cried and laughed all at once as he felt his fragile grip on his fraying sanity begin to wane. The sheer pleasure of her handjob was if anything all the more cathartic after the hours spent being tortured in the pleasurable hell of her hot, wet mouth.

However, the true hell became apparent when, reaching the absolute limit, he felt the webbing constrict tighter around the base of his cock as it throbbed, keeping him trapped eternally at the knife edge of an orgasm which threatened to entirely erase his mind with pleasure.

“Oh my little morsel, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to get a sweet little thing like you down here...” she said into his neck, cuddling him close as if holding a lover, all while her hand moved at a blur, milking his cock furiously despite it being kept chaste by her webs.

“Do you want to cum for me, sweetie? Would you like to cum? Hmmmm?” she asked, speaking directly into his ear, nudging the webs aside with her fingertip.

Frantically, he nodded what little could, hoping against hope his near-imperceptible movements were being seen. No doubt, of course, as she could feel every tiny movement he made translated directly through the webs. Indeed, she could feel every movement every strand made for miles...

“Well, I don't know...” she said softly, “I do so love milking this cock of yours...” she added, even as she slowed her strokes to a crawl.

“Although... after you cum, there's a lot more fun things we can do...” she said, as casually as if imagining plans for a future holiday, and yet in contrast to her tone began to shuck his foreskin back and forth at breakneck speed.

Rick meanwhile was beside himself, the constantly changing sensations not allowing him to grasp them for even a moment before his cock was being exposed to some new form of torture once more. This wasn't helped when, as if to help her make up her mind, her hands began to trace back along his form to the exposed ticklish flesh she had taken such a delight in torturing.

“Hmmm, tell you what sweetie, if you really want to cum, I'll let you decide,” she said, before giggling, and putting a fingertip over his cocooned mouth, “not yet though. You can tell me if you want to cum soon.”

With that, she dropped back down, hands mercilessly tickling his pits even as she did so, before once more latching her mouth onto his cock, this time slamming her lips against his abdomen with a thick, wet squelch each time she hilted his cock into her mouth, before sloshing forth and back, fellating him with sheer abandon.

Her other hands returned to his feet, taking great care to play his taut soles for every ounce of ticklish suffering they could elicit, tracing each nerve to its source and digging in for the maximum effect.

Bringing his cock to the tip of her mouth, she lavishly encircled it for a few moments, before speaking once more, again as if speaking to his cock.

“If you cum, you'll be much more sensitive... and I might not be able to hold back. I might just never stop tickling you...”

She breathily lapped at his cock a few times before she continued.

“Then again, wouldn't it feel so wonderful? A nice firm hand, coaxing out a wonderful messy orgasm?”

As if to accentuate her point, she ran her thumb and forefinger along the top and underside of his cock in miniature strokes.

“Well... if you want to cum... all you have to do, is snap that little web around your cock,”

At first he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. How was he supposed to do that? He squealed and screamed behind his gag, and she seemingly understood.

“Don't worry, you precious little thing...” she moaned softly, kissing the tip of his cock as she spoke, “you can do it... if you want to cum hard enough, you can snap that little web...”

With that, she began to wet her hand against her mouth, until her fingers were dripping with venomous saliva, and reached down to encircle his cock with a devilish promise.

“There you go, now it's all up to you!”

At that, he was truly confused. What was he supposed to do? Eventually, she just giggled, and used her other hand to pull his butt towards her, slowly sinking into her fingers, before the webs pulled him back.

“Too hard? I'll loosen you a little then...” she whispered, and with a bare tug of her fingers, he felt his legs loosen up. It was just enough to move his prison back and forth.

At this point, blind with need, he foresoke all dignity and thrusted into her wet grip with total abandon. His cocoon only moved an inch or so, even when he threw his whole body into it, so her loving handjob was glacial at first, but at last he found a rhythm. Panting with concentration, he forced himself to rut into her grip, no longer caring about anything, mindless of the silken cock-ring keeping his orgasm caged.

She would sometimes move her hand in concert with his thrusts, leading him to drool with need, and yet would then intentionally move her hand in time with them, leading to barely any friction at all, in order to frustrate his animalistic need to rut into her slippery fingers.

Rick was beside himself, reduced to a wriggling webbed cocoon, desperately chasing that pleasure which seemed so close, and yet was always just too far away.

“I think you need a little more help...” she said softly, and placed her mouth at the end of her fingers, sucking his cockhead inside and lavishing a lick across it each time it pushed between her lips.

That wasn't what she had meant, however, as while that acted as even more incentive – if any was needed – to throw everything he had into chasing his orgasm... her fingertips began to play havoc across his thighs and feet, tickling him mercilessly, yet driving his brain into a primal fight or flight, which merely translated into more aggressive thrusting, much to her delight.

She let her tongue loll out into her fingers, lapping at his cock throughout the entirety of its journey, even as her digits wrecked any sense of sanity that remained in his sensory deprived brain.

His cock lurched and throbbed, wrenching against its silky cuff, desperate to throw off its binds... and at last, with an almighty scream which tore a hole in his cocoon and freed his mouth... he felt it give way. Cock harder than it had ever been, pumping and throbbing with hours of tortured need and libidinous poisons, he rutted and slammed his hips forwards as hard as he could, and in her delight she gripped his ass, pulling him deeper into her waiting slippery tunnel with every movement.

Rick's mind shattered under the assault, and he merely groaned and drooled as his body became nothing more than a vessel whose sole purpose was to deliver that cock into whatever waiting hole she provided.

Hours worth of teasing left him utterly insensible, and he felt his cock at last plunging into the depths of her waiting mouth as she jerked his cock in a flurry. With a rising crescendo of need, he felt his molten desire bubbling forth, and his breath caught in his throat as a staccato of groans met the wall of his crying tears of release. With one last almighty thrust, he felt his cum jet into the back of her throat, as Rick finally found the release he had so wanted. She plunged him in and out of her mouth, her pursed lips milking every drop of his cum from him, her tongue dragging along the underside of his cock as if to milk more and more.

When at last he was spent, and had given his all, he collapsed into his bonds, although the shift in his weight was again barely noticeable from the outside. She peeled back his cocoon enough to free his face, and pulled him close to her bosom. She petted his head, holding him to her pillowy breasts, as his body twitched and shuddered at both imagined phantom touches, and the very real ones she occasionally delivered upon him as his cocooned form was held close to her.

No thoughts of escape, or fear, or anything other than her remained in his mind.

“I did warn you...” she said softly, as he came down from the highest peak of orgasm his fragile male mind could possibly know, “there were other fun things to do after you cum.”

He looked up into her eyes, pleadingly, but found only blazing red orbs in return, which winced close as she smiled... just as her fingers began to tickle him once again, mercilessly.

*****

BAD END

It was hard to tell if he was awake or asleep. The constant haze between his nightly erotic nightmares, and the waking ones which if anything were worse, made it difficult to tell what was real and what was not.

From the outside the only sign of his existence was the squirming of his cocoon whenever a spider girl would come by to drain his heavy balls, or as was more often the case, weigh them like fruit at a market and then tease and torment him for what seemed like hours.

When he was finally allowed to cum, it would be a monumental surge through his entire body, and yet the cocoon would reduce it to little more than frantic little shivers, barely noticeable to anyone but the spider girls who, feeling the vibrations in the webs, could read their victims better than even their sensory-deprived and forcibly inward-focused minds knew themselves.

They knew exactly how to touch, where to touch, to get the maximum effect… and they had plenty of time to learn. The cocoon ensured that Rick, and all the other victims, were constantly bathed in venom, keeping them eternally aroused, eternally sensitive, eternally needy.

Of course, every cocoon had multiple seams through which any spider girl could slip her hands and tease, tickle and torment her victim. Any time they showed even the slightest mote of resistance, their immobile prisoners could be subjected to horrendous tickling torture, or endless sexual torment. Of course, it was up to the spider girls to determine what counted as resistance… however pathetic that concept seemed from a prisoner encased in a cocoon that hung beneath the ground, in caverns long since lost to the world above.

Sometimes they just loved to listen to the muffled screams of their victims as they would tickle them for hours… days… or weeks. After all, their ‘pets’ weren’t going anywhere…