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feralcatalyst · 6 days ago

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YES Definitely everything up my alley love this so much <333 Never enough spidery content for me <33

Arachnophilia

(For @feralcatalyst

CW for: Spiders, kidnapping, noncon, drugging, chemical aphrodisiacs, oviposition, bondage, imprisonment, forced breeding, alcohol use, and dehumanisation)

Kira definitely shouldn't have had that last drink. She shouldn't have had the one before that, either, but she definitely shouldn't have had that last one.

And the barkeep seemed to know it, because he'd cut her off and told her to take a walk. And now she was stumbling home at the witching hour with a loaf of stale bread in one hand and her head in the other, trying very hard not to throw up and very aware of how vulnerable she'd be right now if anyone got any ideas. She had her knives, but she didn't know if she trusted herself to use them. Without hitting herself, especially.

She was trying to stick to well-lit areas, but no one was checking the lanterns anymore this late, and quite a few had burned out. Because of course they had. That was how her luck worked. Blessed by the gods to be their perfect little problem.

Kira spat, tearing off another hunk of bread and leaning on the wall while she chewed and waited for the street to stop spinning. Something fell off the roof behind her, a ways back, but she was pretty sure if she turned to look she'd vomit, so she just pretended she hadn't heard and hoped it was benign.

She was going to feel this hangover tomorrow, that was for sure.

Once her head stopped spinning, she pushed on toward where she was pretty sure home was, and privately wished she’d bought a room in the tavern instead, but home it was.

She paused, then looked up, shading her eyes against the moonlight, but whatever had cast that odd shadow on the cobblestones was already gone. Odd. And creepy.

Kira checked that her knives were where she’d left them–that is to say, on her belt–and carried on down the street.

She paused at an intersection, trying to remember which way to go in the dark–she didn’t usually come this way so late–and decided that it must be right. She turned down the street and almost immediately realised that this was definitely a dead end, turning around…and finally finding out what, exactly, had been stalking her.

A number of enormous spiders–bigger than anything she’d seen even while adventuring–were moving down the sides of the buildings to cut her off.

No way in the hells she was making it past them in her state, so she drew her knives and fell back so that her back was to the wall. It limited her avenues of escape, sure, but it also meant she wasn’t about to eat shit because of a miscalculated swing.

The first came straight at her, skittering and hissing; she ducked to one side as it lunged, ramming both blades into its thorax, a gout of foul-smelling greenish-black ichor soiling her tunic. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and shoved the twitching carcass off of her just in time for a second to try a lunge for her side. She twisted, pulling back and jamming one blade into its big beady eye socket, and the second between its mandibles. It screeched and died, and she let out a sigh, taking a moment of respite as the other creatures seemed to hesitate, apparently balking at the deaths of their comrades.

Or so she thought–she had good combat instincts, but she wasn’t used to fighting vertically, and she’d forgotten to account for the fact that the spiders had arrived down the walls–by the time she heard the creature skittering down from above her, it was almost too late.

Kira’s eyes widened and she threw herself out of the way, landing in a puddle of bilious fluid as the creature lunged at her–she got one of her daggers between it and her, but the creature twisted, the blade slicing through its flank, not its vitals; with a shuddering twist, it yanked the blade out of her hand, and, before she could bring the other to bear, sank its fangs into her shoulder.

She’d expected pain, certainly, and there was that in abundance–but what she hadn’t planned on was the sudden flush of dizzy heat that spread through her body as her vision dimmed.

The creature kept her pinned until her struggles slowed, and, before they stopped, she felt the sticky wetness of its webs beginning to bundle her into a cocoon. Probably as a meal for later, she mused, ruefully, as she lost consciousness and faded into oblivion.

In truth, the creatures had no intention of eating her–at least, not right then–and, though she wasn’t conscious for the journey, they retreated to a nearby sewer entrance, dragging their dead with them before vanishing from the surface world entirely.

When she came to, it was in a very different world from the one she’d left.

Not literally, she hoped–this didn’t look like the afterlife. She was pretty sure. But it definitely wasn’t the city. Her eyes took some time to adjust to the gloom, and, as they did, she realised with a start that she was very high indeed; the cave walls and darkness had tricked her into thinking she was close to the ground–her feet were on ‘solid’ ground, after all, in the cocoon, but she could only just make out the cave floor yawning far below her. The creatures had stuck her to a web in an upper corner of the cave, eminently saving her for later. She didn’t fancy the experience of being a snack for spiders, and fortunately she’d kept her face and eyes free for some reason, able to look around the cavern.

Kira’s first thought was to struggle against her bindings, but after several minutes of that she realised that wasn’t happening any time soon. And, more concerningly, that the creatures had somehow either undressed her or the webbing had dissolved her clothing–because she could keenly feel every inch of the cocoon on her very much bare flesh beneath it, causing her to shudder. She didn’t want to think about the implications of either option, so she went back to analysing her surroundings. It wasn’t a small cave, obviously, but she could just make out some strange shapes in the gloom beyond. They seemed too geometric to be natural features. Ruins, perhaps? Or some kind of mausoleum? It couldn’t be an active settlement, surely.

Casting her eyes around as much as she could, she noted several other cocoons nearby–for a relative definition of the term–and, while she couldn’t make out all of their occupants, the one closest certainly seemed to be an unconscious Dark Elven woman. Which seemed to rule out any kind of connection to their Empire–which had unfortunately been her first guess.

She was kind of surprised, on reflection, that the spiders didn’t care that she could see. Even if they weren’t intelligent enough to realise the advantage it gave her, surely they would prefer to be thorough, even if only on instinct?

But as one of the creatures moved across the web nearby–something she felt through the silk more than saw–she realised that they were entirely unfazed by her partial freedom. She made a mental note of that, and then took a deep breath and went back to struggling to at least loosen her bindings.

The Elf continued like that for some time, only realising she’d lost track of time and fallen asleep in the darkness when she was roused violently by a sharp jab in her right shoulder. Eyes flashing open, she was greeted with a close-in view of the underside of the very same spider she’d wounded earlier, and couldn’t help a sharp scream of fear and surprise–which shot her full of enough adrenaline that she didn’t immediately register what was happening to her.

That same heat from earlier was back, only this time it was even more intense; even the adrenaline couldn’t hide the direction it was taking, settling in her belly and her loins. She felt her muscles relax, her limbs turning to such jelly that she was certain that if she wasn’t already bound she’d be collapsing to the ground. The girl felt an odd sense of butterflies in her stomach, and the confusing sensations were distracting enough that she almost forgot there was an enormous arachnid looming over her.

And then she found out why.

She gasped, her focus returning to the present as she felt a sudden penetration, her folds spreading apart around the too-large insertion with uncanny ease; she wasn’t sure if she’d simply lost the ability to feel pain of if she’d somehow been ‘widened’ down there, but she had to look away as the enormous appendage slid up between her inner walls, almost brushing against her cervix. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as she realised just how potent an aphrodisiac she’d been dosed with, having to restrain herself with a force of will from bucking against her intruder.

The appendage–she still wasn’t entirely sure what it was and frankly she didn’t want to know–slid partly out of her and she hated herself for trying to clench her legs together to keep it from going. She needn’t have bothered, of course, as it slid back in, and this time she wasn’t able to suppress a moan.

If the spider noticed, it didn’t care, pulling back out and then back in again, plunging deeper and deeper each time as it defiled her, and by the time it passed her cervix and entered her womb she’d lost the plot a bit, willpower buckling as she did her best to wrap her bound thighs around the penetrator, squirming in her cocoon in a stifled attempt to buck back against the creature, her eyes glazed over with lust and a thin trail of blood running from her lower lip where she’d bitten down too hard.

Finally where it had been trying to get, the appendage revealed its nature as a bulge slid down its length, then another, and then another, the eggs passing through the ovipositor and finding homes in her womb, slowly swelling her belly in a vile imitation of humanoid pregnancy. She found herself revolted by the realisation even through the haze of arousal, but somehow the denigrating nature of the violation only served to turn her on even more–which made her even more disgusted than she already had been.

“Wh–nngh–what’s wrong…big…ah…big g-girl? Not enough–” She had to stop to stifle another moan as another egg landed in her belly. With an angry growl, she snapped, “What the fuck do you need us f-for–!?”

If the spider understood her, it gave no indication, only sliding out of her with a wet pop when she looked like she was nine months pregnant–though these babies kicked and squirmed more than she was sure any humanoid infant would. Nauseated and dizzy, she opened her mouth to chastise the creature again–at least finish her, damn it–but it simply turned, withdrawing its ovipositor, and skittered away down the webs.

“H-hey! Hey!” She bared elvish fangs in anger, her ears flattening, “You can’t j-just–you can’t just edge me you b-bitch!”

The Dark Elf nearby roused, eyes fluttering open. Unlike her, she woke to an eyeful of what awaited her–Kira’s dripping, abused loins were visible through the gap in her cocoon, and her swollen belly would have certainly been hard to hide through the fabric. The other Elf only had a chance to gasp in horror, however, before another of the creatures reached her and began the process fresh.

Kira grit her teeth, hating herself for feeling a brief pang of jealousy. She squirmed, trying desperately to free an arm or…something. At least that way she could get rid of this intolerable heat.

But no such relief was forthcoming, and she was left with the squirming in her belly to match the infuriating emptiness in her groin, wishing she’d been captured by a dragon or something–at least then she’d be liable to get a good shag!

She waited there for what felt like hours, but, given the Dark Elf nearby’s own impregnation, probably wasn’t more than one, before she finally nodded off again, utterly exhausted and immensely horny.

Once again she was woken by one of the creatures, except instead of coming to breed her like a prize mare, it was clutching some kind of gooey pod in its mandibles. With a dawning horror just before it shoved the thing in her mouth, she realised this was how they planned to feed her. It tasted bitter and acidic, like drinking some unholy combination of liquor and semen, with the texture of slime. She shuddered as it went down, and really hoped whatever it was lasted a lot longer than most food, because she didn’t look forward to having that every day for however long she was stuck here.

Speaking of which, she’d begun to make a conscious effort to scan the environment for any exits. She couldn’t see far from up here, and the spiders didn’t seem to need any illumination that might have helped her, but she had nothing better to do but wait and hope that the spiderlings in her belly went out the way they’d come in, instead of something less-survivable.

Infuriatingly, there didn’t seem to be any kind of exit visible, she still couldn’t so much as free her pinky finger from her bindings, and, after a futile day spent squinting into darkness and trying to decide whether the sound of running water was a hallucination or reality, she faded from consciousness again.

This became something of a daily routine for her. To her horror, the pods were a once-a-day affair, and on what she was pretty sure was day three, she felt the eggs in her belly stir like someone had shaken a bottle of champagne. Wincing and bracing for them to come out the direct and painful route, she was pleasantly(for a certain definition of the word) surprised when she felt tiny soft fleshy skitterings pulling their way down her body, and the first of the creatures came out of her battered vagina the way it had come in; wet and dripping.

The ‘miracle of birth’ was more an unpleasant show out of a bad play put on by a twisted mage; one that she was powerless to do anything but experience, though she thanked her lucky stars it wasn’t particularly painful.

Unfortunately for her, as soon as the creatures had begun to emerge, two of the adults had arrived. One took the spiderlings on its abdomen, and, once they’d all hatched, carried them away, and the other mounted her for another round, biting down in the same spot on her shoulder.

She groaned, furious as the heat spread–cursing the creature with a growled, “Oh you’ve got to be fucking k-kidding me!”

But, unfortunately, they didn’t seem to have a very good sense of humour, because she felt the ovipositor wedge itself inside of her once again, sliding up to the bring of her walls, then pulling out. She tried not to lose herself to it again, knowing that last time she’d just been left unfulfilled, but the aphrodisiacs in her bloodstream and the member-like ovipositor in her pussy made that a losing prospect, and within a few minutes she was panting and moaning like a cheap whore.

Shockingly, as the eggs filled her once again, she felt something much more pleasant–she felt herself tightening, clenching around the intruder, and then–

“Aaaahh~!”

The Elf’s body went slack, her eyes rolling into the back of her head and her chin slumping forward as, finally, blissfully, she came. However vile the context, at least they’d managed to get her off, and she was left with a swollen belly fully of spiderlings and a disgusting sense of quiet contentment and shame-filled post-coital bliss.

It only lasted a few minutes before the revulsion returned, but the pattern had been firmly established; more dangerously, she’d begun to grow addicted to the aphrodisiac. Not only was it a potent high, but it was the only thing she had to look forward to in this forsaken pit. Darkness and bitter protein was no substitute for a social life, and she began naming the creatures, recognising them by injuries or mottling on their fuzzy carapaces. Perhaps naming a giant spider fucking its babies into you “Elizabeth” was an insane thing to do, but she was basically delusional at this point anyway. She wasn’t going to get out of here, shy of a rescue, and she strongly suspected that no one knew this place existed at all.

Another woman was attached to the wall a few yards from her about a month into the experience–at least she guessed it was about that long. She could only keep time by her birthing cycles, and those seemed to last about three days. Though whether those were actual ‘days’ or not was impossible to tell in a place like this. She didn’t even try to talk to the woman, and ignored her when she tried to initiate. There was no point. They couldn’t coordinate anything, they couldn’t make any plans that’d work. Why bother trying? Just wait for the next fix.

She didn’t feel anything for the spiderlings, except maybe revulsion. She pointedly did not think about the possibility that if she was stuck here long enough, one day the creatures that had crawled out of her might be putting more in her. She just hung from the wall, tried not to think about what was happening to her body, and waited for the next hit.

Some nights(days?), the spiders didn’t even bother to wake her up with a bite. Sometimes, she did wake up, realised what was happening, and fell back to sleep anyway. The eggs would come, one way or another. She might as well get some rest.

Days turned to weeks; weeks to months, and eventually, months to years. Soon, the Elf lost track of time entirely, escape was impossible, so why bother?

There reached a point where Kira’s feelings morphed from disgust to passivity, even mild affection. Perhaps she was delirious, but she’d very much come to associate the spiders with her ‘fix’, and between that and the names, she’d come up with a baffling parasocial relationship to her silent captors. She greeted them like old friends when they came to see her, ignored the lack of response, and sometimes even pretended they could speak back–or spoke for them.

She was almost certainly going mad, but the cycle of hit, rape, eggs, food, sleep, food, sleep, food, sleep, birth, repeat was difficult enough for weeks; it had been at least a decade, now, with no sign that anyone even knew she still existed. Her limbs weakened, her skin paled, her eyes widened to adapt to the gloom. In a sense, she was mutating–though only in the way that a creature trapped in a cave adapts to its environment.

By the time her incarceration reached two decades, she no longer wanted to be rescued.

By the time it hit a century, she would likely have been hard-pressed to be recognised as an Elf.

She was okay with that.

Kira had plenty of friends down here, after all.

#fiction #urban fantasy #written smut #arachnophobia cw #nsfw #i commissioned this #from arachophobe to arachnophile weve come a long way dab me up #terato #teratophilia #ovi #oviposition #just in time for easter!!!!

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