Arachnophilia Pt. 01

* I started this about 18 months ago just to see if I could but couldn't decide on an ending so I've split it into smaller bits. I have further installments and if it doesn't freak the shit out of you I'll work on the conclusion. I probably will anyway just to see how freaky I can make it.

As always, enjoy*

*

I guess it was supposed to be ornamental but I thought it was ugly. A very badly thrown piece of earthenware, I wasn't one hundred percent sure if it was a jug, a bowl or a vase. It managed to suggest all three but actually conform to none. At barely four inches high it was unlikely to have a practical application. It was decorated, if that's the right word, the dull mat terracotta background had a shiny black almost glasslike relief which for all the world looked like interwoven spiders as well as what may have been alchemy or astrology symbols. The design was slightly proud and smooth, and didn't fit with the rough, rustic quality of the pot itself.

It did have a pleasing tactile quality, the contrast of abrasive and smooth made it almost strokable, certainly the urge to gently run your fingers over its surface was strong and the sensations pleasant enough. But it was still bloody ugly and I was quite taken aback when my wife asked how much it was. I braced myself for the worst. The stall holder was about 50, around our age, and gave a satisfied nod before pouring syrupy compliments on my wife's obviously very discerning tastes and going on to explain the unique nature of the piece and it's cultural significance to his people. This was not going to be cheap. It was almost time to return to our cruise ship and draw today's excursion to a close. Knowing this would be her last purchase and despite my misgivings I handed over the local equivalent of around £180 and tried to look magnanimous about it.

A winter cruise of the southern Mediterranean and North Africa had been the break we both needed. Everything laid on, no decisions more taxing than would I like ice in my drink, and the January sun had had that intensity taken out of it while still being temperately warm. It was strong enough to bleach Jane's long straight light brown hair a shade or two lighter in streaks, to her delight, and I must admit I rather liked the effect myself. We were both tanned from the 10 days we had been at sea. There had been numerous hours between ports of call when there was little better to do than lounge by one of the pools reading a good book. It was blissfully relaxing and exactly what we needed.

And so, four days later, our first (but certainly not our last!) cruise pulled back into Southampton and we made our way home. As the cab pulled up outside our large detached home, something we have both worked incredibly hard for, Natasha, our house sitting, cat feeding, 22 year old daughter came to the door and welcomed us both in with warm hugs and kisses. It helped to take the edge of the grey, cold but dry, January weather. Natasha has the fair skin slight build and sweet nurturing temperament of her mother, but with my dark hair and eyes. Soon we are tucking into bowls of Tasha's homemade pea and ham hock soup and warming up nicely. We had both, rather foolishly, dressed for North Africa and not Hampshire in January.

The three of us and the friendlier of the three cats we have, Snowy (the all black female) sat around the fire which, like the soup, Tasha had prepared especially. The women slurped on hot chocolate while I nursed my first proper cup of tea in a fortnight and Jane regaled Tasha with her retailing adventures. I was a little tired and not really paying attention so was slightly startled to hear my name being called.

"Tom. Tom! Tom, where did you leave the carrier bags? I haven't seen them since we left the cabin. You'd better not have lost them."

"They're in our cases, there was room and it's out of the way of prying eyes so not likely they'll get snatched..."

Jane made an exasperated noise and stomped off muttering something about things getting broken. When she came back in she was carrying six plastic carrier bags by the handles and letting me know I'd escaped by the skin of my teeth since miraculously everything appeared to be intact, before catching the contents of one of the bags against the corner of the coffee table to a loud smash. Jane froze where she stood as her tanned face turned ashen grey. I could see her eyes begging me not to be upset, not to say anything. I kept my face as straight as I could, there was nothing in this lot that I couldn't happily live without, and flicked my attention over to Tasha who was likewise watching her mother and me trying to gauge an appropriate response. Her sense of humour came as part of a hair and eyes package and as soon as we caught the other's eye we both burst out laughing. Natasha actually tumbled to the floor, helpless with mirth.

Jane flushed bright red, "Oh don't! Don't take the piss, it's not funny." Before a slow reluctant smile spread across her face . "God I hate you two sometimes", and she started to chuckle.

Placing all the bags carefully on the coffee table, we silently dared each other to see what had been broken. I seriously wasn't bothered, I was just having fun at Jane's expense, Jane was terrified it was going to be something she'd particularly treasured, whereas Tasha was burning with curiosity and made a grab for the bag and peered inside. "Is that supposed to be a camel?"

Jane's face was awash with relief, she had picked up a small glass figurine of a camel on one of our first stops of the holiday because firstly it was 'cute' and secondly she couldn't find anything she really wanted but thought it was rude not to buy anything at all.

Jane gave Tasha a guided tour of the rest of the remaining five bags, complete with anecdotes about the places and full descriptions of the hunkier shopkeepers and I sat back and dozed. My eyes grew heavy and I was moments from sleep when my name was used again.

"What made you buy this awful thing Tom? Tom! Where was I when you bought this?"

As wakefulness returned I wondered what she could mean. I hadn't bought anything that wasn't to be immediately consumed where we stood or sat. Jane was holding the terracotta monstrosity, turning it slowly in her hand, letting her fingers dance over the intricate spidery construct.

"I didn't, you did. Where was it? Salalah?You kept saying it like it was song lyrics. Sha la lah you called it. I thought it was awful but figured you were doing your 'must buy something' thing. You certainly got a favourable reaction from the stall holder."

Jane frowned at me. None of what I'd just said meant anything to her. I've known her more than half my life and Jane cannot lie for toffee. More than that, Jane would not lie, not about this. She'd tell me my teddy bear tummy was adorable, she'd say my bald patch wasn't noticeable, but she wouldn't lie like this. I had a rather uneasy feeling I couldn't put my finger on. To cover up I pretended I'd been joking all along and I'd bought the thing on a whim. Jane didn't look convinced and even Tasha gave me an incredulous sideways glance . I was on my own with this one.

"Well it's going in the bottom of the wardrobe or it's going in the bin, either way It's not going on display in my home, it's horrible!"

Right there and then I should have said. I should have come clean. I should have told them what I was thinking. I'd done nothing wrong, why did I hesitate? Perhaps because , 'You know that jug thing is freaking me out, the fact you don't remember buying it and I can still see the smug satisfied expression on the stall holders face when you handed over my money.' Isn't conducive to a nice quiet evening at home with my wife, daughter, Snowy the black cat and two other semi feral killing machines, so I let the subject slide into obscurity and hoped for the best.

Several hours and a generous night cap later and Jane and I went up to bed, leaving Tasha to finish watching some film or other. I carried the pot into the bedroom with the intention of finding a space in the bottom of the wardrobe and dropped it onto the bed while I followed Jane into the ensuite for our nightly ablutions . When I came out Jane was changed into a her favourite snuggly pyjamas and was under the duvet. A cursory glance told me the pot was no longer on the bed and I assumed Jane had dealt with it since I couldn't see it anywhere and climbed in next to my wife. Unlike Jane I prefer to sleep naked and the initial cold chill of the cotton sheets gave me a delightful thrill. Jane and I exchanged pecks and wished the other good night before I turned over and switched out my bedside light.

It was impossible to tell how long I'd been asleep. It was still dark but that just places it any time before 7 a.m. A better indicator was my bladder didn't need emptying so that in turn places it before 2 a.m. Quite why I was awake hadn't hit home yet; a noise perhaps, or maybe I felt something. As usual I was half under the duvet and half out with one arm and one leg fully exposed. The usual culprit was Batman. Not the DC comic guy, the semi feral killing machine that liked to sleep at the bottom of my bed. More than once he had taken exception to my naked foot nudging and disturbing his slumber and sunk a claw into the fleshy underside of my big toe. I hadn't felt the claw sink in but as I became more conscious I felt the familiar after throb that followed one of his attacks. But he was nowhere to be seen. As I glanced to the foot of the bed my attention focused on my throbbing big toe and attempted to pull it closer to examine it. I couldn't. My leg wouldn't move. I used my hands to pull myself into a sitting positon, both of my legs were dragged up the mattress and I pulled the bedding back to reveal both legs . A large black and orange spider sat just above my groin. It was about six inches from mandible to spinneret and similar in leg span. It wasn't like any spider I had seen before. If this were a tarantula it was a tarantula in a leather jacket. It was smooth and supple in appearance and movement. It was a gimp spider. Its legs were smooth and hairless and ended in blunt rounded stumps. I froze, terrified that it was about to sink its fangs my penis when a second dropped onto my shoulder and bit my neck. The pain was fleeting, almost nothing, but the paralysis spread quickly and I was unable to move my upper body or even speak inside a second or two. Although movement was beyond me sensation wasn't and I felt the second spider run back down my arm and join the first. If anything sensation was augmented and the light touch of the creature running across my skin would have been almost enjoyable had I not been terrified. Even if I had been physically capable of doing so, I could not move my head to look away from the two arachnids in my lap. Whatever was in their venom it did nothing to slow my racing heart, and although a coolness spread through my body nothing could counter the perspiration breaking out on my brow.

I watched as one spider crawled over my flaccid penis and wrapped its legs around the shaft, it's head was held over the head of my cock and I screamed in my head as it's large mandibles made contact. This time they didn't peirce, instead they simply coated the cock head in a slightly viscous yellow fluid. As this sank into the skin my cock began to feel good. It was a warm tingle which travelled down the shaft and deep inside me.

The legs of the spider held my cock a little tighter and started to move rhythmically along the length as blood flowed freely into my erectile tissue and I began to swell. It was blissful, and though I couldn't speak I did gurgle quietly as saliva ran down my chin.

When my cock was fully hard, hard like it was in my youth, the two spiders stood either side of it before performing an intricate dance around my swollen shaft.

All I knew was this was the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to me but I was aroused beyond measure. The chemicals running through my veins, seeping into my skin, and the touch of these alien creatures was stirring a lust, a desire in me that filled my mind. I desperately needed to cum, I wanted to fuck so much but couldn't actually move. My cock ached it was so hard and precum coated the tip.

It was then that I realised to dance of the spiders was not just to stroke and tantalize my cock, they were spinning a web. Around the base they made a tight collar, keeping the blood in placed, making it hard and fatter. Over the rest they make a soft silken sheath which covered my member entirely. When they were finished the sheath held me tightly and the arachnids hung on to the sides, head down and their legs manipulated the sheath as it slid up and down my length. It was sublime. I was kept like that, on the verge of climax for what felt like a tortuously long time. The lust inside me was all I could think about, the need to fuck, to cum was all that mattered.

The bulbous abdomens of the two spiders pressed against the sensitive head of my cock through the thin covering they had made and began to vibrate. They pressed hard against the underside and increased the speed and intensity of the vibrations just as they bit through the tight ring around the base.

My orgasm hit me with the force of a train. My lust exploded in my brain and a million pleasure synapses triggered at once. My body was immobile but my twitching cock released load after load as my balls contracted and emptied. Again and again my orgasm fired jolts of electricity through my groin till finally I felt my balls were empty and my climax slowly ebbed away. Small aftershocks continued to discharge for some time. The spiders were busy collecting up their woven sheath and the ejaculate it contained. Two identical but smaller spiders appeared and carried the web containing my essence off the bottom of the bed and away to some unknown destination.

Drained as I was there was no doubt I was still highly aroused. My cock had deflated significantly and I was slowly getting back control of my body, but I was still hypersensitive to touch and the slightest brush of the bedding against my skin sent erotic thrills rippling through me. There was no doubt my body had been drained of what little energy it had however and I soon drifted off to a restless sleep where black and orange latex clad eight limbed women nibbled at my flesh and pumped my cock in their silken pussies. I was sure I orgasmed several times but come the morning there was no sign I had ejaculated.