Meanwhile, in the Multiverse

"Okay," he heard Lori say. "Now suck on it."

"Oh my gaaaawd, mother!" Lana moaned. "I'm not putting this fucking thing in my mouth. I'm not sure it'd even fucking fit..."

"Just put it in your fucking yap!" her mother scowled. "That oughta stop all this fucking backtalk..."

He felt the huff of Lana's resigned sigh just before she did as she was told, closing her mouth on his dick. It was awful.

"Too much teeth," Miles hissed as she bit at the tip.

"I told you to shut the fuck up!" Lori screeched. "Do you know what a fucking pain it was breaking her ass out of juvie? Lana's fucking legal now! The next time you string us up with all that gross fucking goo, she's going to prison, you shit! So don't fucking bitch!" Miles decided to grimace in silence. "But he's right, sweetie," she murmured. "That's way too much teeth..."

Little Lana got better. Especially after the hands-down favorite for Mother of the Year took a turn to really show her how it was done like a knob-bobbing hobgoblin. "That's fucking right, sweetie, all the way down," she told Lana after she'd turned pole-smoking duties back to her daughter. Baumgartner the lesser had lost all of that reluctance from earlier, drawing as much of his meat into her throat as she could. "You're gonna need to know how to do all this fucking shit so you can deal with your shithead PO." Mommy Dearest started sucking his balls while her precious baby girl lightly nibbled his tip. Just the lips this time. Miles was just about to nut in Lana's little whore mouth -- her mother's words, not his -- when it suddenly vanished.

"Stop, stop, stop," Lori insisted. "Don't even fucking touch him."

"Eeeeewwww," Lana groaned. "Why the fuck is it bulging like that?"

"Because he's about ready to fucking pop," Lori said. Miles could hear the sneer. "But he doesn't fucking get to. How the fuck does it feel getting denied the things you want, asshole?"

"It... sucks?" Spider-Man offered.

She grabbed his balls. "Shut! The! Fuck! Up!" Each word came with a vicious squeeze or a twist, as if the Dora Milaje weren't aching enough as it was!

"Mo-ther," Lana whined, "I feel so fucking funny down there..."

"I know, baby," Lori soothed. "I'm so fucking turned on, too."

"I wanna fucking hop on his cock..." Oh, crap. Lana was climbing onto his lap!

"Never fuck a guy without a rubber!" Lori yelled, jerking her back. "You wanna fuck up your whole life like me?"

"No, mother, I don't." Her pout was palpable.

"Just sit on his face."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Miles was pretty curious about that himself.

"Now's the time to use that smart mouth, you shit." Lori kicked the chair, tipping it so that he slammed onto his back. There was some shuffling and then there was a wet, hairy puss on his chin. "I'm gonna go first so I can make sure he fucking knows what he's doing," she explained, smothering his nose in her ass. "Eat my fucking cunt, Bug-Boy." She followed this up with a number of very specific instructions, like "Keep fucking flicking that tongue," and "Thrust the shit right into my asshole, noogie!" until eventually she was just moaning "fuck" over and over... When it was Lana's turn, it was kind of a skills test. Without a lot of clear direction, Miles basically just had to choose between what made her squirm -- like when he sucked on her distended clit -- and what made her really squirm -- like when he hummed on it...

Miles was ashamed to admit it, but everything he'd done to Gwen Stacy against the wall of his dorm had been taught to him by a hot and horny shitty single mom and her demented, devoted daughter. He'd stopped short of tossing Gwen's salad, but if he thought for one moment she might enjoy a tongue up the bum as much as the Baumgarters, he'd have seriously considered it. Lana had seemed happy enough a few times over. Lori swore that she squirted, but Miles wasn't convinced she hadn't just pissed on his face.

"Oh, shit, he's all fucking floppy again," Lana complained, pawing his limp dick.

"There's ways to fix that," Lori informed her. A few seconds later, someone was drooling on his dick. "Help me get it all wet," she told Lana. The younger girl joined her mother in licking up a lather, and he couldn't help getting hard again. "There's so much shit you can do," Lori said over the faint sound of a zipper. Then two pillowy bits of flesh collapsed around his erection. It took him a while to piece it together, but Lori was fucking him with her breasts... He was still on his back, chained to the chair, so she had to be leaning over him in some strange, bendy way he couldn't quite figure out, because, again, he couldn't see. "Guys go fucking nuts for this titty-fuck shit."

Miles decided not to verbally agree with her. He didn't want her to hit him again, and he didn't want her to stop, which was such a strange twist in a day of strange twists. It felt really good, which kind of surprised him. He'd seen some videos about this kind of thing -- Ganke always forgot to take his hentai discs out of their shared Blu-ray player when he was done -- but Miles had never really understood the appeal of the paizuri stuff until his cock had been smothered between Lori Baumgartner's fantastic MILF tits. He wasn't as lubed up as he should have been, so it felt kind of gummy mashed up in her fat mommy boobs, but they were just so plump and so warm, his meat felt at home.

"Nothing fucking smart to say now, right?" Lori purred, juggling her breasts along his length. He knew he should just shake his head no, but Miles was about to say something stupid and mean when Lana piped up instead.

"Mother, I can't fucking doooo that," she whined. "Mine aren't as big as yours..."

"I wish mine were still so fucking firm," Lori grumbled. "Sure, they fucking fill up when you shit out a baby, but then the brat sucks you dry and they just fucking droop..."

Miles hadn't noticed a lot of droopage in his few battles with the Bombshells, but he tried not to ogle the lady supervillains when he could help it. It was part of that whole "emotionally mature beyond his years" vibe he was shooting for. That being said, the older woman had kept it all pretty fit, the buttery softness of her breasts enfolding his cock notwithstanding. He probably would have nutted between them if she'd let him, but somehow, she always knew just when he was about to explode and pulled back.

That was ironic, right?

"I still wanna try," Lana eventually said. Miles heard another zipper, and shortly thereafter, she was rubbing her boobies on his dick. It wasn't nearly as good, she just didn't have what it took for the same kind of smothering embrace, but Lana's tits had their perks. Her modest endowment was just as supple, those pebble-hard nipples shooting a thrill through his member each time they brushed its cockskin. She didn't stick with it long, and Miles suddenly realized why this had never been a big fantasy for him before. The girl of his dreams wasn't exactly top-heavy, either...

"I just wanna say, I ain't seen them or nothing, but I don't think there's anything wrong with your breasts." Miles realized just how loopy he must have sounded the moment he mumbled it. He had taken several blows to the head at that point...

"Th-thank you." Lana said it so lowly he almost didn't hear her.

"Are you fucking shitting me?" Lana groaned. "Are you fucking blushing?!"

"I'm not blushing, mother," her daughter protested a little too much. "Fuck!" Miles bet she looked cute. Again, pretty loopy...

"Whatever, let's just get the fuck out of here," Lori said. "You're lucky we're leaving your dumb ass alive, Bug-Boy."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Lana asked. "We didn't get to see him, you know, fucking do it..."

"He doesn't get to do that, sweetie," Lori insisted. "That's the whole fucking point!"

"But I wanna see it!"

"It's not that fucking impressive," her mother assured her. "Men cum all day every day, darling."

"But I wanna fucking seeeeeeee..."

"For Christ's fucking sake," Lori muttered. "Fine, but you're doing all the work..."

"Y-y'all, don't have to do this," Miles moaned. He listened as they settled themselves around him once more.

"Aw, don't worry about it, baby," Lori said in a sweet, mocking tone. "Just let it happen." It didn't take them long. Did the Baumgartners have filthy mouths? Most def. But those filthy mouths were trained for this shit. Miles couldn't see it, of course, but he got the sense impression of both of their cheeks pressed to the tip of his cock when he finally erupted, blasting off like a broken hydrant.

"What the fuck, mother?!" Lana sputtered. "There's so fucking much and it's so fucking slimy."

"Better than that other shit, sweetie," Lori muttered, pulling his mask off again. "Though this isn't as easy to get out of your fucking hair." Miles blinked his eyes to see that both of the Baumgartners' faces were plastered with his spunk. His head was spinning. Their tits were still out, and had received their fair share of his recent release. "Was it everything you were fucking hoping for?" Lori asked Lana, using his mask to wipe between her splooge-splattered breasts before cleaning her face.

"It tastes so fucking tangy," the girl replied, licking her lips as her mother passed her the makeshift cumrag so she could towel off, too.

"Mmm," her mother agreed with a smacking pop as she zipped up. "Bug-Boy's got a good diet."

"I try to eat a lot of kiwi," Miles groaned from the floor. More advice from Uncle Aaron.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Lori knelt down to pull his sodden mask back over his head, backward again, but all the way down this time, smearing the cum they'd mopped up all over his face. Miles was about to learn all too well how hard it was to wash dried semen out of his hair.

His spider-sense pinged right before she cracked him in the head with some rebar, knocking him out.

Shit. The things they had done with that rebar...

The whole ordeal had maybe taken two hours, but between the concussions, it was hard to gauge. Time always got away from him when he was wearing the webs. Miles had never told anybody the full story, because the only person he could have told was Ganke, and Spider-Man's amigo would have thought it was almost hot, but it really hadn't been. It'd been humiliating and terrifying. Again, Miles was pretty sure some crazy bitch in her thirties had peed in his mouth.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Ganke said.

"They saw my face, man!" Miles grumbled, busy sewing up a new costume. The only part he had told him was that they'd taken his mask off.

"Yeah, but they didn't take a picture or anything," he pointed out. "And they're white girls. Pretty sure 'He's a Black guy with a lot of hair!' is about as descriptive as they're gonna get. I think you'll be okay." Then he went back to watching TV and muttering about how stupid it was to invite Jessica Fletcher anywhere.

Miles wished he could just brush it all off so easily. The fucked up dreams had finally stopped over the last couple of weeks since he'd talked as much of it over with his dad as he thought he could, ** Check out The Spider Within: A Spider-Verse Story on YouTube - LBD ** but finding himself in the same situation again didn't seem so great all of a sudden...

Sure, this was different. Miles could see, for one. And he really wanted this to happen. He just didn't want it to happen like this. Not again... "Naw, Gwen, you gotta stop," Miles grunted. "I-- I don't wanna nut yet."

Was he really arguing with her when she had his meat in her mouth? Gwen ignored him. It seemed a prudent idea to get a few O's out of the way between them before the main event. She was licking his shaft, turning him on and tuning him out.

"Nuh-not in your mouth." Miles closed his eyes with a hiss. "N-not the -- Fuck! -- J-Just not the first time..."

She finally stopped blowing him.

"Miles, I'm not going to let you jizz on my face yet," she informed him, pumping his pudgy python with both fists. Gwen was definitely going to fuck him, but she didn't want to do it worried about sticky shit falling in her eyes, and as adult as Miles' dorm might have been, she doubted two teenage boys left to their own devices had a clean towel anywhere in the room. "What are you gonna do about it?" she taunted, slapping his massive manhood against her warm cheek before kissing the tip. Gwen hadn't hated the pre-cum, and at this point, she was curious about the real thing. "You're gonna finish in my mouth, and that's that." She laid her tongue flat just under his head, curling it into a cup ready for his seed.

His head snapped forward and he opened those big, almond eyes. "That ain't how this is gonna go," Miles told her. This static flash crackled through his eyes before the bio-electrically charged webs exploded off him, splattering across the room and forcing Gwen back on her ass, fritzing the tie out of her bushy and blown-dry asymmetrical hair as he rose from the chair.

It wasn't the hot, gooey mess on her face she'd been trying to avoid, but Gwen recovered quickly enough. The superheated web-fluid was already dissipating. Miles looked down at her, his eyes still sparkling. If standing there pantsless, Donald Ducking it like a chump, was supposed to make him less intimidating, no one had told her. Even with his tights tangled around his ankles. The angry wet erection certainly didn't help. Miles wasn't looking at her with that sweet, desperate adoration anymore. This was something else. Something more. This was just what she'd wanted.

"Still think you're in charge?" he said, striding toward her.

Of course she still was, but Gwen was more than willing to play along. She was so ready. So wet. It was just like Spider-Woman had said...

Jess Drew's sexual tutelage had gone a little beyond that shoulder touch tip and pheromone bullshit:

"If you really want him to give it to you, sometimes you gotta be aggressive," she had advised Gwen. "Don't be afraid to tell a man what you want, girl. It'll either come out one of two ways: He'll do what you tell him, and you got yourself a great fucktoy. If he's got the equipment? Shit... You should be so lucky, you know what I'm saying? But if he feels pushed? If it makes him show you what he wants? That's where the real sexual magic happens."

Gwen Stacy didn't need the friscalating tingle of her spider-sense to tell that she was in for some real sexual magic. Because, of course, Jess was right. So maybe she was right about the pheromones, too.

She had made the mistake of asking the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth-517 if sexual magic was real. It was at the St. Patrick's Day party and she was tipsy because the legal drinking age in Nueva York was eighteen. "Of course it's real," the spider-powered warlock insisted. "There's magic in every willful intention you make in whatever world you call home. The mystical forces at play in the act of making love constitute life itself. They don't just affect the body, they penetrate the fundamental energies of the soul."

"Wow," Gwen chuckled. "You make it sound, like, so special..." Okay, she had been more than just tipsy. She'd gotten plastered. She'd left Earth-65 three weeks before and she was homesick and self-medicating.

"It's potent magic indeed," the conjurer nodded. "I offer tutelage to those willing to dedicate their talents to the ways of erotic enchantment. Perhaps we could retire to my Sanctum Santorum and discuss this further over some wine and fine cheeses..."

"Why do I even bother?" Gwen muttered before tossing her drink in his face and stalking off. "Fucking Peter Parkers, man..." There was no way the real version of him from her world would have grown up to be such a spaz. She wouldn't have let him...

But she didn't want to think about Peter. Any of them.

Gwen was shocked Miles didn't just bend her over the desk. That's what her symbiote would have done. It had been possessive in the worst possible way -- Was it an it? Or should it be a they? It'd been the two of them in on everything together, hadn't it? Until it wasn't. Maybe it had even been a him. Gwen's freaky space invader had manifested some sizable big dick energy at times.

She had met enough other venomized and carnagated spider-people over the last couple months with the Spider-Society to see the common threads. Her world was considered one of the zanier ones where everything was just a little bit more off than most, but the symbiote seemed very much the same across the multiverse. One of the Eddie Brocks who'd briefly been processed through Earth-928 during what Miguel loved to refer to as "that bullshit with Doctor Strange and that geek from Earth-199999" had almost a buddy-cop routine worked out with his living costume.

Gwen's suit hadn't been like that. The thing about her symbiote situation that seemed different than it did for just about everybody else at the Symbiote Support Group she'd gone to a few times was that it -- She had settled on it. It just felt safer... -- hadn't just taken over her... It had taken her.

The saga of Gwen's alien costume took its startling sexual turn about three weeks after they'd first bonded on her eighteenth birthday. Up until then, everything had been fine. The costume fit like a dream, generated its own webbing, made her feel a bit stronger, and looked cool as hell. Standard black spidey-suit stuff, right?

Then one night, she woke up from a fitful slumber to find it worming its way inside her... **Don't tell me you missed Spider-Gwen #89, "Brutal Bondage of the Bewitching BIRTHDAY SUIT!" Not available at your LCS, you say? Okay, just this once, here's a recap... -LBD **

"What the hell are you doing?!" Gwen shrieked.

We need each other... a voice whispered. That's when she really freaked out.

Yes, she had yelled at the thing, but that's because she'd gotten into the habit of treating it like a cat. She'd even been calling it ALF in her head. The difference, of course, was that the suit actually followed verbal commands and didn't just stare at her like some furry sociopath. She never expected it to say something back! It'd never shown any sign it could communicate! It'd never shown any sign that it wanted to get into her pants either! Of course, most of the time, it was her pants, so one could understand her confusion.

We must be together, Gwendolyn... It was this treacly deep voice that felt like honey in her head, sweet and soothing. But the costume was still slithering into her sex, and fuck, it was thickening!

"No, no, no," she begged. She tried to pull it out of her, but it was like tugging on taffy with a naughty agenda. She almost wished her father was home and not working the night shift, but walking in on this would have created way more problems than it could have possibly solved... "N-not like this..."

Don't worry, Gwen, the symbiote slurred. A glob of black goo popped and splattered over her clit, undulating softly with bubbling ripples that were tying her tummy in knots. We're going to love this...

The swollen tendril that'd been wriggling between her virgin nethers shot up further than anything had ever been. This piercing pain cut through her and she winced. "FFFFuuuck!" The brutish blob had broken her hymen! "Y-You didn't have to do that..." she inhaled sharply, blood dripping down her taint as the engorged tentacle tightened, splitting her more...

But now we are one! the symbiote hissed, ramming itself back and forth in her pussy, changing its shape as it used her. Sometimes it had big, bumpy studs that throbbed against her snug vaginal walls, then it'd twist into a corkscrew, or bend toward her g-spot. We need to be one, it told her again and again as it fucked her.