Black Out

Spider-Gwen II

Peter worked on Gwen, tirelessly laboring with his tongue deep inside the warmth of her cunt. As she endlessly groaned and sighed in unwilling pleasure, Peter gloated to himself over how well his conquest of the girl had gone. Even with her face streaked with tears and contorted in denial over what was happening to her, she was still beautiful, and her supple, youthful body promised to be a good fuck. For all her standoffish would-be punk nature, there was a slutty streak in her that came out as raw passion when stimulated.
 
Gwen, however, could not abide having Mary Jane see her like this. It jarred her out of her surrender, even as she realized that her body wasn’t abiding by her outraged mind, only responding to Peter. His tongue made her jerk rhythmically, shocks of erotic sensation that her flesh couldn’t get enough of and her mind couldn’t believe. Then his tongue slid away from her overwarm pussy and crossed the forbidden circle of her anus. Gwen gasped with surprise—then trailed off into a rapturous moan as that tongue bored into her sensitive, secret hole. She writhed ecstatically as the maddening contact continued, full of shocking bliss.
 
Don’t, she thought, not that, not there! But with her gag in place, there was no proof she was resisting—her hips were instinctively offering themselves up, gyrating into his thrusting tongue.
 
Smiling to himself, Peter continued to drill his tongue into Gwen’s tight little asshole, while the only movement she could make was to thrash in total degradation, her buttocks quivering involuntarily as ecstasy rippled through her, deleterious but unwelcome.
 
Dear God—please, Peter, don’t make me feel this way—don’t make me into a slut! But even if Gwen could speak, she knew it was useless to beg. She’d completely lost control of herself, becoming exactly what Peter was treating her as, an object to be used for his masturbatory enjoyment.
 
She knew, dimly, that she shouldn’t be enjoying a man humiliating her and degrading her in this way, but how could she not enjoy the sheer physical rapture that came with it? It was like nothing she had ever felt before—nothing she had ever thought possible. Peter licked insanely on and on until the unbelievable passion had once more reduced her to a thoughtless, helpless receptacle for his lust.
 
Gwen locked eyes with Mary Jane, still filming her, the redhead clearly looking forward to her own chance to have Peter ravish her—and Gwen could see that MJ knew how good it felt, how much she wanted more. Gwen flushed with shame; she felt like she’d admitted to something horrible. And her body grew even more wanton, her hips thrusting up to Peter’s torturing kiss, trying to get it back to her openly throbbing sex. She was wild with excitement, an crazed need for more of this pleasure she had once found so repellant.
 
Peter grinned sadistically before sending his tongue into the seething need of her cunt, Gwen pushing hard against her penetration in total subjugation to her ecstasy. Her pure gold pubic hair grazed his cheeks as her hips rolled in rhythmic undulations full of joy, her features distorted in passion, totally revealing how much she enjoyed being his.
 
Peter looked at MJ—she had started to touch herself, enjoying just as much as him the prospect of fucking Gwen’s pliant young body. He was going to ram himself all the way into that hot, writhing little cunt and fill her full of sperm, maybe even breed her—after all, he had another Gwen to keep nice and trim if he wanted to use her cunt again. Two if you counted Jill.
 
And when Gwen’d had just enough time to forget how good it had felt, he would show her the video and let her see how she had yelled her head off, enjoying herself.
 
Gwen thought she would go mad from his lashing tongue, unable to endure the thrilling circles of sensation that spread, ever widening, through her vulnerable womanhood. Breathlessly, she looked down at his head, seeing how his strong tongue was running all over her desire-soaked pussy and going deep inside her clasping folds. She hoped it would never stop, not ever, but as if he’d sensed her delight, how totally broken she was with neither pride or self-respect to spoil her fun, Peter stopped… took his tongue away from her… left Gwen with only the knowledge of how much she’d enjoyed being debased, how even now she wished for more—
 
“I think she’s starting to show a little gratitude,” he chuckled. “How do you want to thank me, Gwen? Suck my cock? Give me a titjob? I’m afraid that’s going to have to wait. We’re still not done. But don’t worry, I’m going to enjoy myself plenty—fucking that cute little pussy until you can’t walk…”
 
Gwen lay there helpless, no, not helpless, but willfully paralyzed, desperate even—desperate to let him do what he wanted so long as it kept feeling good. Yet even as thoroughly submissive as she was, she was shocked at the sight of Peter rising over her, his rigidly erect prick extending out in front of him like some deadly weapon. It seemed to swell even bigger as she gaped at it, horrified and yet aroused.
 
Gwen tried to protest, tell him that it was far too big, that it would never fit, yet unwanted excitement still tingled in her breasts, her belly, her trembling cunt as he moved deliberately down to her, his head over her breasts, seizing a nipple with the same toothy maw that her pussy had found itself addicted to. He seized a nipple between his lips, both biting it and sucking it, Gwen moaning with the mix of pain and pleasure. She felt it breaking her even further—the knowledge that it felt so good, no amount of pain would put her off it.
 
“Alright, Gwen,” he hissed, “that’s enough lying back and thinking of England. From here on out, you earn being my whore—I want you to take my prick and thank me for putting it in that slutty cunt of yours.”
 
Gwen winced as his obscene words landed—not only harsh, but true. She was his whore, his slut, and she could feel herself becoming excited by the mere thought of being those things. He wasn’t just ruling over her body, he seemed to control her mind and thoughts. He had her thinking of how much she would like to be his…
 
Suddenly, the webbing gagging her mouth and holding down her limbs was gone, like a living thing that’d retreated. In the back of her mind, Gwen wondered how he had done it—webbing was a chemical compound, she had no idea how he could just dispel it like that. But now, here was the awful proof. She couldn’t, wouldn’t move… wouldn’t lift one finger to get away from him or stop her own corruption. His eyes gleamed with unholy lust as he looked down at her and she just stared back, as trapped as a bird would be in a cobra’s stare.
 
“I don’t repeat myself for pathetic little sluts like you,” Peter snapped impatiently. “Take my cock. Put it in your cunt. Be grateful I’m not punishing you like the disobedient little girl you are.”
 
Gwen took deep, heaving breasts, her cheeks feeling like they were on fire with humiliation even as she moved her hand down to the monster at his groin. “No… I can’t… it won’t fit!” she sobbed.

 
“And I just thought you were big girl enough not to be tied up,” Peter snarled. “Maybe I should web you back up. Go fuck MJ instead. She’s not a little girl like you. She’s all woman.”
 
“I can’t!” Gwen cried, shaking her hear even as she touched his throbbing erection. “I can’t!” She closed her little hand around its weighty mass. It was huge, even bigger than it had looked, and feverishly warm against her palm.
 
Peter lowered his hips. Gwen could’ve pushed his cock away from her, kept it from going inside her cunt, but she couldn’t bear the thought of losing the pleasure she was experiencing. She spread her legs wide apart and guided the fatly engorged cockhead against her wet passage. As Peter came down, she let his heavy shaft enter into her sex, heart racing with both anticipation and dread. She shivered at the first touch of his glans against the cringing folds of her pussy, hesitating, unable to do more, but Peter was still lowering himself onto her, his tip already inside her, the rest following. In only an instant, it was more than her tight channel could take, and she felt a sharp pain as his hardened erection strained through her narrowness.
 
“Aghhh!” she cried out, but Peter only pushed harder, forcing himself through her opening no matter how cruelly it stretched her tender womanhood. “God, it’s too big!” The pain was incredible. “Please, you’re hurting me--!” she choked out finally, before all her words caught painfully in her throat.
 
“I’m fucking you,” Peter replied, grinning with dark pleasure at how beholden she was to him—even now she kept her legs widely spread for him to continue his slow, agonizing penetration of her needing cunt.
 
“Ohhhh… God!” Gwen wailed as he kept going into her, his weapon filling her inch by torturous inch.
 
Then Peter grew bored with her discomfort. He’d proven his point. Finally overcome with his own ravenous desire, Peter jammed himself into her with one brutal thrust, ramming his swollen member into her unready cunt like a piledriver.
 
“AHHHHHHHH!” Gwen howled as the tight-set walls of her sex were forced apart, as she was opened up all the way to her belly, hollowed out until his hairy balls struck her tight, round ass like a gong being struck.
 
“…God!” she groaned finally, her voice lost. He had fucked all the way into her womb, she was sure, she didn’t dare move for fear of further injuring herself. She could feel him in her cervix, her belly—the feeling of tightness seemed to go all the way to her throat.
 
Grimacing with the satisfaction of being fully inside Gwen’s tight cunt, Peter lay heavily on top of her, breathing hard, feeling her tremble around him. Then he shifted inside her an inestimable amount, bringing a tortured groan out of Gwen’s contorted mouth. Chuckling harshly, he slipped back and forth, enjoying Gwen’s embarrassed little gasps and agonized moans until they gave way, inevitably, to sensual whimpers, murmurs of need. Gwen had adjusted to being his cock holster and Peter used her more fully, rocking back and forth, bringing himself to new depths inside her. Gwen’s eyes rolled back in her head and she was unable to control the satiated moans rising up from deep inside her.
 
Peter lifted himself up over her splayed body, Gwen keening haplessly as a few inches of his cock slipped away from her. He spoke with lascivious enjoyment. “Now be a good girl, Gwen. Say thank you. Let’s get it on the record.”
 
Her eyes flickering between Peter and the camera Mary Jane still held on her, Gwen found herself writhing involuntarily, her hips spiking up to him of their own volition. She could only plead with him to leave her this last inch of self-respect. “No… please… just do it, don’t make me—“

“What did I tell you about repeating myself? You can either be grateful for my big dick or I can take it away—and do you think any other man will be able to please you after what I’ve done to your cunt?”
 
“Oh God, why… why can’t you just fuck me?” He was insatiable, demanding everything from her. Not just her body, but her dignity as well.
 
“Because I want a polite little girl to fuck, not an ungrateful bitch. Say thank you.”
 
“All… all right,” Gwen moaned hopelessly. “Thank you.”
 
“For?” Peter insisted. “You have a lot to be thankful for, after all.” He shifted a few millimeters inside her and Gwen almost came then and there. Her pussy had grown even more tender in the long seconds he’d gone without fucking it.
 
“For fucking me!” Gwen almost shrieked, her teeth clenched, tears running down her cheeks. “Thank you for fucking my cunt with your big cock!”
 
She threw her head back—she’d given up everything to him, completely disgraced herself in return for nothing more than the pleasure of his cock. Now, in her shame and surrender, she could only wait for more, unable to think of anything other than the wonderful, terrible prick that he’d made her a slave to.