When I’ve finished weaving, Andromeda is suspended near the screen at a comfortable viewing angle. She hangs slightly forward and down, weight mostly supported by wide, comfortable bands across her waist and thighs. Her arms are behind her back, bound together all along the forearms, limiting her to minimal movement.
Her legs are parted, and I’ve woven a devious bit of silk into something that resembles a lingerie teddie: my inspiration for this little trick.
The faux negligee runs over each breast as if to provide modesty, but a gap lets each firm nipple poke through, pinching them as the silk stretches.
Those two pieces merge together into one band that passes between her legs, settling between her ass cheeks and joining back with the top of the garment, forming a continuous loop.
Right now, the silk is flat enough to rest over her outer labia, providing even pressure.
As she takes a surprised breath, that pressure tightens, treating me to a little gasp.
She clicks her tongue and scoffs. “H-how’s this supposed to help?!”
A wicked grin spreads my lips. “It isn’t.”
Her eyes narrow with delicious ire. “You… You’re a bad,badman, did you know that?” The unmistakable scent of her arousal blossoms from her parted legs.
I lean over her ear, loving how even just my breath makes her shudder. “I know. And… I think you’re counting on that.”
“Wh… I am not!” Her indignant squirming stretches the loop of silk, pressing it deeper between her folds. A whimper of pleasure escapes.
My pedipalps twitch and rub against each other.
I fetch another fruit and peel it, then hold a segment to her mouth. “Aren’t you still hungry?” I ask.
“No,” she lies.
I press it to her lips, and she defiantly clamps her mouth shut.
Her contract glimmers warmly on my wrist, and a thrill rushes through me. These contracts are bound to intent and consent, especially the kind that relates to the subject of the contract. It helps ensure that neither party manipulates the terms in bad faith. The contracts of weaker Arachnoids can be fooled, but mine are bulletproof.
I roughly grab Andromeda’s cheeks and force her jaw open.
Her gaze softens as her jaw goes lax, no longer fighting. I place the fruit on her tongue, watching her closely as she chews and swallows.
She turns pleading eyes to me. “T-the more I eat, the bigger they get…”
“Exactly,” I purr next to her ear.
Andromeda shivers, and her back arches, tightening the silk across her pussy. That earns a deep moan.
I keep a gentle hand on her jaw, and she lets it fall open again, tongue lolling out.
My breath catches. Fucking stars, she’s gorgeous.
I am happy for the other hucows, the naturally submissive ones that take well to any master. I help them find a place where they can be content, and I’m proud of that.
Butthis… Andromeda requires a precise, firm hand. One unwise move could shatter her trust forever.
It’s pride, I know, but I feel sure of it: only I can unravel her like this.
Only I can make her mine.
I set another piece of fruit on her tongue, and she obediently eats it.
She whimpers at the subsequent growth, which stretches the silk, pinching her nipples harder and narrowing the pressure over her cunt.
Out of her view, I watch the readout from her ear tag on a tablet screen. Her pulse gradually quickens as her arousal wells.
