Spidey CYOA: Under New Management Ch. 10

"Hey now, a little cum is one thing, but when it's been in my ass..."

Felicia advanced on her, amused by Mary Jane's disavowal—pointless, as it wasn't like there was much she could do to resist in her present state. "Relax, Red: you're perfectly clean. I can tell you're a wet-naps kinda gal. It's hot."

"I know how clean my ass is, I clean it, and I still don't want to—" She was cut off, any disagreement left in her throat as her mouth was occupied with Felicia's tongue, her lips brutally sweet and loving even on Mary Jane's unwilling mouth.

She pushed in with her tongue, until Mary Jane's was moving against it, however involuntarily—tasting the three of them: Peter, Felicia, and her own sweet ass. Mary Jane's tongue moved tentatively, investigating the firm strokes Felicia's made, until their meeting was demanding on both sides.

Felicia sucked and bit at Mary Jane's agile tongue and MJ warmed, the fires within her glowing below Felicia's outstretched body. Her passion grew inexorably, a flash of heat and light that reminded her of the raging furnace she had just come out of. Mary Jane mewled, gurgling in her throat until Felicia withdrew to suck at her lower lip, worrying it gently with her sharp teeth. Both their nerves electric, sensitive and sensual, their messages of sexuality finding rapid purchase elsewhere in their aroused bodies.

Mary Jane sighed, fondly hateful, with a flicker of irritation in her limpid eyes. "You bitch... Peter never would've let you do that to me..."

Felicia purred lushly at her, as happy to have irritated Mary Jane as she was to have her turned on. "Any time you want to fuck my ass with that tongue—I'll suck it clean. And is Peter still being a total tease: all skintight spandex, no backdoor action?"

"Are you kidding? It was hard enough for me to talk him into spanking my ass..."

"But worth it," Felicia cooed, knowing Mary Jane at least well enough to be sure the pain had been no disincentive.

Mary Jane shared a naughty smile with her. "You better satisfy me before this webbing wears off. Or I'll give you all the backdoor action that ass can handle."

"Mm. Okay. Let me see if Peter put any more cum up that ass. I'm sure there'd be room for it..."

Peter picked then to come in, with wire cutters to handle the webbing. He was dripping wet from the shower, but all he'd put on was a towel. "Okay you two, enough lollygagging around. Between the three of us, we should be able to put some food on the table."

***

"Tiger, a little help here?"

Peter notched down a last notation. He'd hoped to be able to focus on mixing up a fresh batch of webbing, with a little sciencing done to see if he could make it stronger. But while Mary Jane might accept he needed some me time, that was before Felicia had joined their happy home. Now, three days later, the adjustment process was proving rather like adopting a cat.

A cat that hadn't been house-trained.

"What is it, MJ?" he asked, wandering into the living room to see Felicia firmly planted on the couch, pointedly avoiding meeting MJ's gaze, while Mary Jane stood, her arms sternly crossed. "Don't tell me you two can't agree on what to watch..."

Mary Jane turned condescending. That was never a good time. "You remember we agreed to divvy up the chores?" she asked Peter, though her green eyes sizzled at Felicia. "You were going to take out the trash and vacuum. I was going to do the dishes. Felicia was going to do the laundry..."

"I did do the laundry," Felicia said.

"Your laundry. You're supposed to do everyone's."

"You're a fashion model! Your laundry is a mountain, I'm not doing that! Anyway, Peter got an easy job."

"Peter saves the city. And you didn't have a problem with doing the laundry two days ago."

"I didn't think we were going to wear clothes so often two days ago!"

Peter held up his hands, calling for silence. Unbelievably, it seemed to work. "Felicia, MJ's right. You agreed to do the laundry. Do the laundry."

"Of course you take her side. Your wife."

Mary Jane rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you're just the woman he got into polygamy for. Clearly, you're the one he's biased against."

"United front, honey," Peter told her, putting an arm around her waist.

"See! I told you!" Felicia said accusingly.

Peter patted Mary Jane's hip. "Cat, before Mary Jane and I brought you into this, we agreed that we weren't going to let you slack off on us. You have to do your share of the chores... or else."

"Or else what?" Felicia demanded. "The sex slave thing is cute when we're in bed, but what are you really going to do to me? Slap me around? Shave my head? I'm sure Mary Jane would enjoy that, but c'mon..." She picked up a magazine, opened it, and started to read. "I've always had a thing for pussycats, and when it comes to me, that's exactly what you are."

Peter gave her a moment to reconsider, but she was set. So he went to the dresser, opened up a drawer, and took out a collar. Felicia ignored him, right up until he was behind her chair and putting it on her.

Felicia jumped up onto her feet. "What is this?" Then she noticed she was itching. All of her was itching. She scratched frantically before realizing it was her clothes. She only got relief by pulling them off of her, as though they were made of something continually irritating her skin.

"I call it the Flea Collar," Peter informed her as she stripped bare in a whirl of haste. "It uses ultrasonics to stimulate the nerves in your skin when it detects an obstruction between the open air and your body: in other words, clothes. Don't forget to take your shoes off."

Squealing, Felicia kicked off her shoes and ripped off her socks—finally comfortable, albeit no longer wearing a stitch of fabric except for the collar Peter had put on her. She instantly started trying to pull it off.

"I wouldn't do that," Peter told her. "There are dye packs woven into the collar. If you cut through it, it'll stain your face and body for... well, you'll have to mark down on your calendar when to start buying lipstick again."

Felicia stopped tinkering with the collar. "Get this thing off me!"

"Why?" Mary Jane snickered. "It's a good look for you. Haven't you always been proud of your body? So eager to show it off?"

"MJ, don't rub it in," Peter chided her. "The lock only works for my biometric scan. I'll take it off you when you do the laundry. And it'll stay off for as long as you do your chores."

"Are you kidding me?" Felicia cried. "This is your big play? Stripping me naked? You think I care?"

"The thing is, we were going to take you out to eat—a romantic dinner for three—but it's a pretty fancy restaurant. No nudists allowed."

"No shirt, no shoes, no service," Mary Jane quipped.

"MJ, please, I just said—"

"You made a joke first," Mary Jane pointed out.

Felicia set her hands on her hips. "And if I say that you can't touch me until you take this collar off?" She covered breasts and pubis with her hands. "That you can't look at me, even?"

Peter shrugged. "We'll see how long you hold out. But Mary Jane and I have each other. I think we can manage without you for a while. No offense." He gave Mary Jane a kiss on the cheek. "Go get your coat. I'm going to take one last look at this batch of webbing and then I'll be ready."

"Don't take all night," Mary Jane told him, giving an admonishing gaze to Felicia before heading to the hall tree.

"You're just going to leave me here?" Felicia demanded, at first following Mary Jane, then trailing after Peter to his scientific man-cave. "You invent a whole technology to get me naked and you're not going to ravish me?"

"If you give me your word you'll do the laundry," Peter said, checking on his lab equipment, "I'll take the collar off. I wouldn't want you to have any accidents with the detergent, not when you've got nothing in the way of it and your bare skin."

"Drop dead," Felicia told him cheerfully. "You're not going to get away with this. You think I won't go outside, just because I'm NC-17? You think you'll be able to resist me? I'm a fucking snack and now that you've had a taste, you're not going to stop snitching."

Peter smiled in her face. "We should be back a little after eight, which is plenty of time to have the laundry dried, folded, and put away in the dressers."

What happens next?

A. Felicia follows instructions.

B. Felicia refuses to obey.