PFC Stewart Peter Bate awoke suspended above pandemonium. He was bound at the wrists and hanging from a rope like a side of beef. He was completely naked and both his cock and legs dangled beneath him as he slid through the darkness on an unseen conveyor. Bate couldn't see what. Above him, the rope—which looked like catgut—stretched up into pitch-blackness. Below him, a long way below him, Bate saw a bustle of activity as people worked.
Not people. Demons. Okay, aliens, although Bate was less sure about that now.
They weren't supposed to be this organized.
"Simple tribal hierarchies at best," the big brains had said.
The big brains had lied, or been utterly incompetent. Either way, the activity Bate saw was considerably more complex than 'simple tribal hierarchies'. Bate thought he was looking down at a factory shop floor, or maybe a chaotic bazaar.
And he was travelling over the whole thing like a strung up pig's carcass.
This concerned Bate greatly.
He tried to remember how he'd got here. Last he remembered was chilling at the base. Then a puff of pink smoke, a sweet smell, and darkness.
And now—more darkness.
He was transported through inky black shadows, far above the activity taking place below. He couldn't tell whether it was night or day. Not that he'd be able to even if he could see the sky. H-space didn't really do night or day.
Bate was not the only on the meat hooks. Ahead of him he saw another pale, naked body. A fellow soldier? He was still unconscious... or dead. He hung limply and his head lolled forwards between his shoulders.
There was another person (
body?) behind him. By twisting his body from side to side, Bate was able to glimpse him, but not see whether he was alive, or awake.
Bate was going to call out to both when he saw something ahead of them. Spiders. Giant spiders the size of automobiles. Bate's cry died in his mouth.
There were monstrous spiders all around him. He watched as they descended on silvery ropes to the floor far below. They halted just above great vats containing violet liquid. Muscular hindigs with hunched, carapace-covered bodies swirled the vats with great long oars. One of the giant spiders upended itself. Its bloated abdomen was the same color as the liquid in the vat. The reason for that became clear as its abdomen shrank and a stream of violet fluid poured down into the vat. Like squeezing the juice out of a grape, Bate thought. Flecks of gold glittered in the vat as the hard-shelled demons swirled the liquids around. Its abdomen empty, the spider climbed back up into the shadows.
As Bate approached closer he saw a spider being ridden by a woman who was naked aside from long tresses of hair covering her breasts. Was it even a spider? The abdomen was bloated, but also transparent. It looked artificial—like a giant bubble of clear plastic. A robot? Or some kind of mechanical walker? The long legs still looked kind of spidery—organic rather than machine.
One of the spider riders plucked the unconscious man in front of Bate off his rope and carried him away up into the darkness. The line continued moving.
Then it was Bate's turn. A spider rider came for him, only now Bate was close enough to see that his initial impression was wrong. There was no spider—or mechanical walker—and rider; spider and rider were one and the same. The woman's upper body emerged directly from where the head would have been on a giant spider. Like the centaurs of myth, Bate thought, but with the lower half of a monstrous spider instead of a horse.
This had to be a nightmare. It couldn't be real.
"Oh, you're awake," the spider girl said.
She had an open, friendly face. It was pretty... if you could fool yourself into thinking the black orbs clustered at her temples were some form of exotic body modification and not actual eyes. Her naked body was pretty fine as well, with a set of tits a stripper would be proud of. That rack would be totally visible if her silky platinum-blonde hair wasn't long enough to cover it, Lady Godiva style.
Yes, her body was all fine... until you reached the hips and the woman ended and the spider began. That part was loathsomely arachnid. She had eight long, jointed legs. Her abdomen was a large bloated transparent balloon. That part was utterly alien. There was nothing in it—no organs, nothing. Just a giant transparent sac. It looked like a giant bubble attached to her ass.
Nightmare. Had to be a nightmare.
"Do you have a name?" the spider girl asked. "Mine is Burbuila."
"Roger," Bate replied, "Roger Bull."
"Hi, Roger Bull," Burbuila said. "I'm to be your..." She seemed to be struggling to find the right word. "...squeeze... er."
"What are you?" Bate asked. She seemed to be acting friendly enough, but there was still that demon body...
"I'm an essence extrac... squeeze... er..." Her brow furrowed again. "Your language is so clumsy. I'm a type of arachne. Spider girl," she elaborated. "But not one of the scary ones you might have heard about, no no no. I'm a specialized arachne. Look."
She leant back and ran a hand over her bloated abdomen. The surface dimpled and rippled like an air-filled rubber bladder.
"See how soft and comfortable it is."
"Uh, okay," Bate said. "I don't suppose you could get me down."
She reached up and plucked Bate off the rope. One of her spidery forelimbs moved forwards and snipped through the rope binding Bate's wrists as if it was nothing more than thread.
"Thanks," Bate said.
"You're welcome," she beamed back at him.
She turned and carried him away from the line. She was stronger than she looked. She cradled his 200 pounds of mostly muscle in her arms as if he was no more than a baby.
She wasn't holding him tight though. If Bate struggled, he reckoned he break free of her. And then what? If he missed any of the ropes (web?) she was walking on...
splat.
"It's so nice to have this conversation with you," Burbuila said. "It makes the squee..." Again, a pause. Again, a furrowing of her brows. "...process much smoother and more pleasurable."
The silvery ropes Burbuila walked upon were hard to pick out in the shadowy gloom. There could be a complex web of them—criss-crossing and intersecting in a mesh dense enough to catch Bate if he fell. Or there could only be a few strands running far apart. In which case...
splat. Bate didn't fancy taking that chance.
After walking a short distance, Burbuila stopped. She gave him a flirty little smile and brushed aside the silky smooth hair covering her left breast. Bate caught a glimpse of the little pink button nub of her nipple. He was sure it was deliberate.
"Shall we begin?" she asked.
Bate smiled back. Begin what? The way she bent over him, her eyelids half-closed and her luscious lips all bunched up, looked like she want to kiss him. Bate was kind of okay with that. A kiss—even a kiss off a freaky spider woman demon—didn't seem so bad. It could be worse.
Bate glanced over her right shoulder.
He saw worse.
There was another spider woman some way above him. She had a man trapped inside her big bubble abdomen. He was pushing his hands against the transparent wall like it was bars.
Bate's eyes widened. He started to squirm too late as she gathered him up in a tight, inescapable embrace. Her luscious lips pressed against his.
...and Bate stopped squirming as he lost himself in her kiss.
It was like being sixteen all over again: Nervous, heart fluttering, blood pounding, stomach churning, then that perfect timeless moment as his lips pressed against the lips of his crush of the time. Time stood still. No. Time didn't even exist. Their lips locked, tongues tangled, breath was shared. He tasted sweetness—like the juices of some exotic, forbidden fruit. Hot flashes traced burning trails across his skin. His loins throbbed. He melted in her arms.
Burbuila broke off the kiss and smiled down at him.
Bate gave her puppy-dog eyes back. He no longer even knew where he was.
"See," she said. "Specialized arachne. I don't bite. I kiss."
Glistening dew drops bubbled up on her lips. She kissed him again—on his lips, his cheeks, his neck, his chest. The lipstick impressions she left on his skin flared and tingled. Bate felt hot, shivery, weak.
"That's the first part of the process," Burbuila said.
She held Bate's body away from her with her long jointed forelegs.
"Now for the second."
She let out a soft grunt. Her fleshy labia—pink and plump and human in appearance even though they lay at the juncture where human became spider—parted. Another soft grunt, this time of exertion. Her sex opened out into a tunnel. Glistening strands of lubricant stretched between the moist tunnel walls. They snapped as the tunnel opened up wider and wider.
Bate's eyes widened also. He was still woozy from Burbuila's kiss, but he could see her vagina had opened too wide for any meaningful sexual intercourse. Why, it was wide enough to fit his head.
Bate was not woozy enough to be blissfully ignorant of what she intended. He started to squirm as she pushed him headfirst into the gaping maw of her sex.
"In you go," she said, before letting out a breathy sigh.
Wet muscular walls enfolded Bate's head and upper body. They gripped and smoothly pulled him down an organic passage. Bate barely had time to panic before he was transported down the fleshy tunnel and excreted out into the open space of her transparent abdomen.
From the inside it even more resembled a giant bubble. Through the translucent walls he saw other spider women resting on silvery threads, their bubble abdomens also containing captives.
From the inside of her...
Oh fuck, he was inside her.
Then Bate panicked.
He stood up and banged his fists against the outer wall. It felt soft and yielding, but also tough like thick rubber.
"Ooh, a fidgety one", Burbuila said. Her voice was muffled by the transparent walls of her bubble abdomen. "That's ticklish."
"Let me out," Bate wailed.
"I will, after I've put you through the nirvana of sublimation," Burbuila said. "Just relax. It's an intensely pleasurable experience."
Violet fumes welled up from the floor. The bubble was filled with a sickly sweet scent. The air became thick, cloying... musky. Bate felt strange—heavy, but also horny. He felt the blood rush down to his groin. His thoughts fogged up.
"Lie back. Relax," Burbuila said. Her words sank into Bate's brain and fluttered against his pleasure centers.
Before he knew it, he was lying on the floor of her bubble. It had grown thicker and softer—like an airbed pumped up with air. A puff of membrane swelled up and formed a comfortable pillow for his head.
"Comfortable?" Burbuila asked.
Her voice—her soft sighs and moans—seemed to be coming from a position right next to Bate's ears. As if she was in there with him. The air inside the bubble was thick with exotic scents and the musky odor of arousal.
Burbuila lay back against the bubble and rubbed her arms against the pliant walls.
"And now to squeeze," she sighed.
Soft, membranous walls closed around Bate. He felt gentle pressure all over his body. The warmth and scents reminded him of teen fantasies of being tangled up with the naked and nubile bodies of the entire cheerleading squad.
Burbuila breathed in and her bubble abdomen throbbed around Bate like a giant heart. The membranous walls moved all over him, caressed him, squeezed him.
"Give yourself to the pleasure," Burbuila said. She lay back against her balloon-like abdomen as it swelled and throbbed. "Let me squeeze out all your tension and melt you with bliss."
Bate's erection was engulfed and sucked up inside an orifice. He could see it bobbing away through the transparent membrane walls. He saw his foreskin move back and forth as his member was gripped by a gentle force.
"Squeeze," Burbuila said.
She breathed in. Her membranous walls pressed all around Bate. Suction tugged against his erection. It responded with a meaty twitch.
"And relax."
She let out a breath. The gentle pressure all over Bate's body subsided. Fleshy walls fluttered around his cock.
She repeated the cycle until Bate twitched, mad with lust inside her. So close. He felt so close. He wanted to reach over and finish himself off, but the membranes kept him pinned to the floor of the bubble.
"And now the big squeeze," Burbuila said.
The soft walls pressed all around Bate, molding perfectly to his body and applying gentle pressure all over, with special attention to his cock. Bate felt the pressure—the suction—building on his manhood until he could withstand it no longer. He shuddered helplessly and bucked against the smothering pressure as he emptied a great stream of cum into her. It was drawn from him as if inhaled. The bubble throbbed around him and each pulse sucked another massive flood of sperm from him. Something else as well. Some hazy nebulous element of him. Not enough to empty him, but enough to make him feel like some part of him was missing.
Fucked right out of him.
He lay back on the soft membranes, panting from the exertion.
What had he just done with this... thing? And why did it feel like the best sex he'd ever had?
More sweet-smelling fumes were puffed into Bate's face. Warm exotic fluids were poured over his naked body. His doubt and disgust melted away. He felt hot and horny and eager to go again.
"This is where my sisters would squeeze, and suck, and churn, until you were fully sublimated to your essence," Burbuila said, still lying back against the transparent bag of her abdomen. "They're too impatient. It should always be long, slow and sensual."
More warm juices were squirted into the cavity. They sank through Bate's skin, soaked into his muscles and made him feel blissfully relaxed. So pampered. He felt so pampered within her.
"The longer you give them nirvana, the greater the flavor."
She sighed and rubbed her arms against the membranous wall of her bubble-prison abdomen.
"They always tell me my flavor is the best. Because I care for you and make you feel so good."
Slow steady throbs started up again with Bate at the heart of them. His cock was sucked up and squeezed by air pressure. He let out a low moan. Nothing else mattered as Burbuila slowly pulsed him up to another long, slow orgasm. More violet fluids flecked with gold flowed into the chamber of her abdomen.
"We're going to share bliss together for such a long time," Burbuila said.
She was good for her word. She could have emptied Bate out with a few strong squeezes, but instead she let him recover, let his body rest, let his balls fill back up before she squeezed and massaged him to another monstrous climax.
Over and over again.
It was a long time later when she descended down and emptied Bate's sublimated essence out into the vat far below.
