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 Posting a reply to post #13770

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13770 No.13770
Okay, so it's based on Spectacular Spider-Man, and the premise is that MJ, Gwen, Black Cat, Liz, Betty and aunt May gangrape Peter. Where do we go from there? Do we commission an artist? Is it going to be a comic, one picture or a series of pictures? How does it play out?

Expand all images
Comic (or a series of pictures) because it would feel like some of the others are crowding him.

It needs to have Peter webbing up Liz.


Webbing up or "webbing up"?

should this go in /coc/? are we actually considering this?


"webbing up" or both

I dunno about webbing up (without quotes) because it means Liz ends up getting tied up when the whole point is the girls taking control of Peter.

Premise: Peter returns home really tired (to the point where his Spider-Sense isn't working effectively) after a night of webslinging and hopes he can get into his room undetected. But as he enters his room through the window and takes his mask off, the light turns on and Betty, Liz, Black Cat, Gwen, MJ, and Aunt May are staring at him, visibly irritated.

They proceed to tear off his costume and briefs and gangrape him.


yeah that could work, no need for a complicated premise

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This looks like a job for the Spectacular Hypno-Hustler!


If you want to make it a comic you can have Spider-Man also say that he just got through after a really long battle with Mysterio (WHO IS TOTALLY GAY FOR HIM) and so his reaction isn't quite as good after getting finished (which is why the girls overtake him)

He's also not going to struggle too hard because they're girls, and ones he likes... Like all good rape fiction the victim will eventually enjoy it.

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You could have that stupid bitch Sally even in there, plugging his ass with a spiked strap-on and beating the shit out of him to get her pleasure. Then she gets gang-raped by all the other girls.



No Sally. Bitch has AIDs.

Hey guys, did you know that pretty much the entire creative staff for Spectacular got ditched for Season 3?

Additionally, I can't get behind this concept due to lack of Firestar.

Otherwise, clearly you need to serialize this in order to lead up to epic gang rape finale.

Also, Aunt May should die of a heart attack after hot spider dickings. I don't think her body can take it...

>>Also, Aunt May should die of a heart attack after hot spider dickings. I don't think her body can take it...

Nah, she's too young looking for that as opposed to her 616 incarnation.


Lies, good sir! LIES.

Any luck?

>>Additionally, I can't get behind this concept due to lack of Firestar.

They really should attempt to introduce Firestar into the show if they ever get the entire team back.

They probably wouldn't do so on the grounds that Iceman's with the X-men and Firestar would either look too much like MJ or that they don't want the focus to fall off of Spidey. But, a cameo or a mention wouldn't hurt

They could just claim they're influenced by the Bitches Love Spider-Man comic

>>pretty much the entire creative staff for Spectacular got ditched for Season 3


so... i assume nothing came out of this?

comic would be better


No :(

Watching the new episode got me interested in this again. I might write something up tomorrow, any requests for.. well, anything?

maybe include glory grant and sally avril too? you know, for completeness' sake.


I guess work with >>13896 . He gets home, accidentally reveals to the girls that he's Spider-Man, then orgy occurs.

Glory Grant, sure. Sally, nah.

Yeah, Sally is the cancer that'd make a man's testicles atrophy.


And Aunt May isn't? Come the hell on! She's like boner kryptonite!

Aunt May from Spectacular Spider-Man is still more preferable to Sally.

Better yet, he THINKS it's because he's tired, but it turns out his (male) mind doesn't see a group of attractive women having their way with him as a "threat".

In short, his spider-sense doesn't cock-block him. (Hence why one guy who can lift 10 tons doesn't just throw off 6 women if he wanted to)

Any more progress?

Aunt May's voice doesn't make your penis shrivel up, turn black, and fall off. Sally's cancerous accent and pitch on the other hand, do.

The only attractive Sally Avril is a dead one, and we can only hope we'll see that by season 3.

this has soooo much potential

So the big question that needs to be resolved before any work can (finally) be started on this: Aunt May or no aunt May?

@$$ would you be behind this if it included a dimensionally displaced Firestar?

This had not been Peter Parker's finest hour. As he webswung his way home, his underwear visible through the rip in his tights, he reflected on just what exactly had gone wrong. Mysterio had returned and with a bigger, better bag of tricks to boot. Spidey had been assaulted with animatronic dinosaurs, flying saucers, explosives, fireworks, extremely loud music, ghosts, smoke, more explosives, razor-sharp rolls of film and a giant four-armed demonic version of Mysterio, who'd shouted in a big booming voice that he was gay for Spider-Man. And for all he'd had to suffer, the bad guy still got away! Frustrated and exhausted, the only thing Peter could think about was a warm bed. At least his home was still a sanctuary of peace and quiet.

As he quietly slipped into his pitch dark room through the window, he felt a soft throbbing in his head, which he dismissed as an onsetting headache. He took off his mask and rubbed his eyes. Boy he couldn't wait to go to bed.

Suddenly the light in his room flashed on, and as he blinked into it to reorientate himself he thought he was still seeing Mysterio's illusions. There they were, standing in his room. Gwen Stacy. Mary Jane Watson. Liz Allan. Betty Brant. The Black Cat. Glory Grant. Sally Avril. Martha Connors. Even aunt May. All the women and girls he knew in his life were here, in his room, for no reason he could imagine, and they didn't look pleased with him. And there he stood in full Spider-Man costume, after just having swung in through the window. But somehow he knew that this didn't matter, that they'd already known, that this was why they were waiting for him. "Um... S-surprise?" he stammered.


Since Deb Whitman's now in Spectacular, can she be in too?


They all started shouting at him at once and he could only make out fragments of what they were saying. "...believe you wouldn't trust me..." "...very disappointed in you..." "...caused my husband so much..." " you were this young..." "...thought you loved me Petey..." "...fucked up, Tiger." And then they fell quiet again and glared at him. What the hell should he do now? He couldn't just bolt off through the window again, but what was he going to say? He'd lied to or hid the truth from all of these people, causing them grief. He knew he'd done it for good reasons, but he still couldn't help but feel guilty. One by one he looked at the faces staring back at him. "I... I... I-I... I'm... I..." was all he could muster. Suddenly it all became too much for him. The pain, the exhaustion, the shock of the confrontation... Peter felt dizzy and dropped to his knees. "I'm sorry." he said in a tiny voice, as tears streamed down his cheeks. The ladies surrounding him mellowed almost immediately, some of them looking regretful. They looked at each other.

"O-kay... maybe not the best idea to go off on him all at once." said Gwen, biting her lip. "Ey! We agreed ta do this after he-OW!" MJ had slapped Sally in the back of the head. "I don't recall you caring at all about Peter before we found out. You're just here because we can use the extra hands. Now shut up." May stepped forward, put her hands on Peter's cheeks and lifted his head. "Peter... Please, never do this to us again. We all care about you very much. You shouldn't lie to us about something like this. You did a very bad thing, even if you didn't mean any harm. Do you understand?" Peter nodded. "Good boy. Do you promise you will be completely honest with us from now on?" Peter nodded again. "Good. I believe you. We all believe you. Now the only thing that's left is your punishment." Suddenly, everyone started closing in on him. Not understanding what was happening he looked at their faces. There didn't seem to be a unified emotion. Gwen was blushing. MJ was grinning. Sally looked positively evil. Never having been more confused, he turned back to May, only to see her face closing in on his. She held his face, closed her eyes and kissed him on the mouth.

It was not a motherly kiss, but it was full of love. It was the sort of kiss she'd used to give to Ben in their happiest moments together. It was a great kiss; adult, experienced, but soft and tender. Peter felt a whirwild of mixed emotions rise up inside of him. May Reilly Parker was certainly an attractive woman; incredibly well preserved for her age, she had only a few wrinkles around her eyes, and due to healthy food and regular exercising had kept her body fit and firm. Looking at her, the only thing that betrayed her age was her white hair. Still, she was decades his senior, and although they were not blood related she remained his aunt and the woman who'd raised him. Peter knew it was wrong, and yet despite his amazing strength, because of a combination of fatigue and a feeling of content, he did not struggle or pull away. And then the others grabbed him.



Seriously, we need more harem-y goodness.

Yes, MOAR would be appreciated

Oh shit, this is getting god.


They carried him by the arms and legs, two girls for each limb, May holding his head, and with one well-coördinated swing threw him onto his bed. Still dazed, he could only feebly protest as eighteen arms started pulling on his Spider-Man costume. Off came his boots, which were carelessly tossed aside, off came his socks and gloves, which were crumpled up into a ball, off came his webshooters, which were stuffed into a drawer. "W-w-wait! At least let me-" but before he could finish the sentence they were tearing the spandex suit from his body, with Black Cat's claws causing most of the damage. His chest become exposed, his thighs, and then he was lying there in nothing but his briefs. "He ain't got one hair on his chest." said Glory, who was used to her boyfriend's curly forest. "Mrrrrmmm, I like 'em that way." replied Black Cat. Peter looked around and saw only pleased looking faces. At least he didn't have a body to be ashamed about thanks to the spider bite. "So, who's going to do the honors?" asked Betty. They looked at each other for a bit, and then MJ handed Gwen a pair of scissors. "You've never seen one up close yet, right?" Gwen shook her head and took the scissors. "Well, be our guest."

As the other eight held down his arms and legs, Peter watched as Gwen started carefully, methodically cutting open one side of his underwear. Her face was flush and her hands were trembling a little, but she took care not to expose anything until she'd finished cutting through both sides. She grabbed the two loose corners of the destroyed briefs with both hands, but still hesitated to unfold it. The others kept their eyes focused on Peter's crotch. She swallowed and whispered: "Okay... Three... two... one... go!" as she pulled off the cloth.

Gwen gasped and put her hands on her face, but kept staring at the thing she'd just revealed. Aunt May put her hands on her heart. "Oh my." MJ whistled. Black Cat grinned and made a purring sound. Liz' draw jopped. She didn't bother to wipe off the small trickle of drool that flowed out. Betty, Glory and Martha could only stare in amazement. Sally was the first person to form a coherent sentence: "That's the biggest fuckin' cock I ever saw!"

>>"Mrrrrmmm, I like 'em that way." replied Black Cat.

Black Cat loev shota.

Awesome stuff, anon.

lol, awesome.


There was a popular rumor doing the rounds that Spider-Man had a microscopic penis, if he had one at all, based on the lack of an apparent bulge in his trouser area. The truth was that he always wore a very special pair of briefs made from unstable molecules, very sturdy and designed precisely to minimize bulging while still being a comfortable fit. Every superhero was sent a week long supply at the start of their career, free of charge by a mysterious benefactor. Nobody asked questions. That's just how it worked.

And now Gwen had destroyed Peter's Friday pair. Still she could only gawk at the flaccid hunk of meat she'd exposed, panting, a few sweat drops trickling down her forehead. Peter's face had turned deep red with embarrassment and he tried to smile awkwardly. Liz was the first to speak up after Sally's outburst. "Okay, Petey showed us his, I think we should show him ours." There was general agreement all around as everyone started undressing. While this meant Peter had his limbs free to move, and he realized what was happening to him, he neglected to make his escape. He was naked, he was tired, he was still reeling from aunt May's kiss, and, despite his embarrassment, he was starting to enjoy what he was seeing. He wished he could keep track of it all.

He saw Black Cat unzipping her catsuit with agonizing slowness, showing off an amazing young body with D cup breasts and a clean shaved pussy. She kept on her mask and choker. He saw Mary Jane's slender form show off a pair of firm teenage tits and a shock of red pubic hair. He saw Sally practically throw her cheerleader uniform off of her athletic body. He noticed her pubes were black. The stuck-up dyed her hair. He saw Liz reveal all of her tan skin, an amazing thong-clad ass, firm and round, contrasting her tiny but perky titties. He saw Glory in all of her chocolate colored glory, her dark nipples on a pair of C's, a mess of of curly black pubic hair. He saw Betty's adult curves, everything round and soft, a butterfly tattoo on her lower back. He saw Martha Connors, who was approaching middle age, sporting big mature breasts with large flat nipples, wide hips, the tiniest amount of armpit hair. He saw May, just May, slowly reveal a surprisingly well-kept, virtually unblemished body, with only the slightest sag of the breast and ass, and unruly white pubic hair. And he saw Gwen, fumbling with her glasses as she pulled her shirt over her head, the slowest and shyest of them all. On her pale chest were two breasts shaped like teardrops, her buttocks were tight and cute, and her blond pubes were carefully trimmed.

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>>microscopic penis

Natural blondes can have dark pubic hair, y'know. And dark eyebrows and eyelashes.


Oh, I know, but Sally seems like the type to dye her hair. Plus it's a bonus reference to the people that know her from the comics, where she has black hair.

Damnit, we need more filth.



Working on it! Turns out I actually found a life on the weekends now.



Hey guys, ficfag here, sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'm kind of busy with other stuff and I'm also kinda suffering from writer's block. Yes, I know how sad it is to get writer's block on a porn fanfic. I'll see if I can get something done in the weekend.




Any more?

artwork is needed


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need to add this MILF to the list of bitches


Silver Sable too

Holy shit, an update?! Yes!


Peter noticed he now had an erection. The sight of his own penis shocked him back to his senses, and he leapt up as the women and girls climbed onto the bed, closing in on him. "Um... Okay... That was fun, huh? Heheh... I mean, you sure showed me! Definitely learned my lesson... I'm just gonna-" but before he could move Black Cat had pounced on him, knocking him back over. "Mm-mmh, you're not going anywhere. The fun's just beginning." She looked at him with her amazing green eyes and grinned. Then she unceremoniously shoved her tongue down his throat. Black Cat played it rough. She wrestled Peter's tongue with her own while writhing her naked form up and down his body, her ass moving up against his cock every time she slid back. Peter had never felt weaker before. "Hey, don't hog him for yourself, give us some room!" said an annoyed Betty. "Sorry girls, got a little carried away there." replied Black Cat, as she abruptly pulled her tongue out of his mouth, kissed his lips one more time and slid off of him. The dazed Peter, looking at his own dick, which was now twitching like crazy, felt his head being lifted up by two gentle, familiar hands, and placed on a soft, naked lap. He looked up and saw the smiling upside-down face of May looking back at him. He whimpered a little, not knowing what to expect next.

The very next moment he was restrained and felt mouths moving all over his body. Black Cat and Gwen laid down on his arms and kissed his cheeks and neck, licked his ears and sucked on his earlobes. Sally and MJ kissed all over his chest and armpits, periodically sucking on his nipples; Sally sometimes biting a little. Betty and Martha ran their mouths over his stomach and sides, licking his abs and, just for fun, teasing his bellybutton with their tongues. Liz and Glory, meanwhile, held down his legs and kissed his thighs, coming the closest to his twitching phallus but never quite touching it. The room was filled with wet smacking sounds. Peter tried to speak, but the only thing that came from his mouth were incoherent moans. The sensation was overwhelming.

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Holy crap!

What with the season finale having been shown already, we seriously need an update on this fic.

I mean, seriously. Did you know that there are only 10 stories in the Spectacular Spider-man section at


Hey, ficfag here, sorry I haven't been updating. Honestly, I think the project might be dead... My increased workload, writer's block, lack of confidence in my own writing, plus a general lack of audience interest in the thing kinda killed it. :( If anyone wants to continue the story, or use it as inspiration for their own work, feel free, but at this point I don't think I'll finish it any time soon. Sorry again. :(

Shit. Only one thing to do now.
Who's got a Klondike bar? We need Gunwild on this bitch so bad, we'll need 3d glasses to go.

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So I was thinking that maybe if someone continued this story that they might this idea in. I mean like after the orgy Peter starts taking pictures so to prove to himself that it wasn't just a dream and then Gwen can make that comment.

Alternatively, maybe there's another story idea that can be gleaned from this pic.

What people forget is that Sally is voiced by Grey Delisle.

Yeah, her voice is pretty bad NOW, but once her voice settles down...

Also, maybe we can bring some masked sex and have Bluebird, Black Cat and Spidey together.


Isn't that a Spider-Gwen picture?

Peter's webbed to the bed.
Gwen: OK. The safe word is 'Gobby'.
Peter: I'm not so sure about this any more...

The original request post in /co/ didn't actually specifically ask for Spider-Gwen, but I suppose you could interpret it that way.

IIRC it was supposed to be Spider-Gwen posing for Peter in costume, with her saying that.

Either way we still need to get Gunwild working on a story.

If we ever do get him to write a story I want the ending to involve Peter accidentally sending one of those pictures to JJJ.

Does Gunwild hang out here?

Occasionally. I haven't seen him for a good while, maybe October. But, you know, have you read his shit?

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Fantasy roleplaying?


Supergirl Sally makes me feel funny in my pants.

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Since there isn't much activity in this thread, I felt that I might as well post this here: the only rule 34 Spectacular Spider-man fanfiction I found on FF.Net.

...featuring Black Cat/Spider-man ephebophilia, which I will now be copy-pasting.

Also features a hilarious guest appearance by Iron Man in chapter 2.

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Peter was having a jinx day, not to be confused with a jinxed day. Everything was so peaceful and tranquil that he was afraid to think too hard about it for fear of jinxing it. His rogue’s gallery was in jail, Aunt May was in perfect health, and even his grades were good. The only real problem he had was in the relationship department. Ever since he and Felicia had broken it off, his days had been lonely. Not to mention his nights…

But there was nothing to be done. She was twenty, he was sixteen. Clearly, getting together would be weird and weird and… weird. Peter shot out another webline and swung low over Broadway. Still, he would miss having someone to share this with. If only there were something to take his mind off--

The sound of glass breaking exploded the evening’s peace. Close by, too. Spider-Man switched from his leisure swinging to a more strenuous speed. Soon he could see the jagged edges of a broken window pockmarking a skyscraper. An alarm was ringing and he could sense motion inside the building, but his spider-sense didn’t even ping. Weird.

Spider-Man landed on a high perch where he had an overview of the situation. Quickly he picked out the cause of all the trouble, shaking off pebbles of glass as she ran from rooftop to rooftop. Felicia.

Peter swung down, landing dead in front of the Black Cat. He tracked her bob of white hair as it shook to a stop, the rest of her coming into focus as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. She had been smart enough to flee down a path isolated from the city lights. Just not smart enough.

“Spider,” she greeted sultrily, but still surprised. “What’s a nice guy like you doing on a rooftop like this?”

“Walking you over to the lost and found. I heard you had something that doesn’t belong to you.”

Felicia shrugged. “Girl’s gotta eat. Besides, that was Hammerhead’s HQ. Surely you don’t mind me slipping a little change from his pocket?”

“Come on, Cat, I thought you were past this. It’s a slippery slope from Robin Hood to Bonnie & Clyde.”

“There was a time you wouldn’t have minded going down my slippery slope.”

He couldn’t do this anymore. The innuendo felt cruel when he knew it wasn’t going anywhere they could go. “I was different back then. Remember, alien lifeform, symbiotic relationship, slimming black costume? And… I don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

“Ahh, boyfriend didn’t work out, so now you’re gonna be my daddy? I can take care of myself.”

“I know that,” Peter said, smarting. “I just worry, that’s all.”

“You’re not my mother, either.” Black Cat grabbed her head as if trying to ward off a migraine. “Sorry, sorry, I’m going about this all wrong? Can I start over?”

Without waiting for an answer, she pulled her zipper all the way down and slipped out of her catsuit, leaving her in nothing but her mask and a pair of panties.

“Whoa,” Peter said dryly, Felicia smiling at the surprised timbre in his voice. “Never had that effect on a woman before.”

“Maybe you just needed to meet the right woman.” She snapped the waistband of her panties. They had a Spider-Man webhead on the crotch. “See anything familiar?”

“Are you going to throw those at me?”

“Only if you earn them.”

Spider-Man shook his head curtly, and a bit sadly. “Listen, Cat, it’s been fun seeing you again – a whole lotta fun – but we have to face facts. Obviously, we’re completely incompatible…”

She strutted toward him. “Sexually?”

“Okay, not sexually incompatible. But you can’t base an entire relationship off sex.”

She rested her chin on his shoulder, putting her body in contact with his at all the salient points. “Not even really, really hot sex? I’m talking wall-banging, here.”

“Someone’s going to see you.”

“I’ll understand if you’re seeing someone else. I cut and run, it’s true. But I’m back and I realize…” Felicia hugged herself, then sneered like he was a jerk for making her say it. “You mean a lot to me, okay? Are you really going to turn your back on that because some politician says you’re not ready? You’re the bravest, most mature, most responsible person I’ve ever known. I’ve known thirty-year-olds who are less grown up than you are. And it can’t be easy that no one realizes just how wonderful you are.” A bit sheepishly, but quickly regaining her confidence, she pulled her catsuit back on. “Come to the harbor tomorrow. I’ll be in my yacht. We can take a cruise, just the two of us.” She zipped up her catsuit. “See you tomorrow, lover boy.”

Despite the pounding of his heart, as Peter watched her sashay her way off the roof, he thought he could definitely get used to her calling him that.

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Seeing Cat again just made his ennui worse. Well, Peter wasn’t going to go into this half-cocked (even he winced at that pun). He did some research online and decided there really wasn’t much risk to his psychological health that he couldn’t get from fighting monsters and sociopaths all day. And he really had to be on the watch-out for PSTD.

Then he looked into venereal diseases. Googling that was a bad idea. He got some pictures of genital warts that made him sure he would never get an erection again. Of course, five minutes later the image of Felicia’s nude body swam back into his head and he was off to the races. He seldom indulged in masturbation (well, not that he knew what the baseline was, but it wasn’t something he did every hour, on the hour like some guys he could name), but now there was a tent in his boxer. He wasn’t sure whether to manually settle things or save it for Cat, so he settled on a long, cold shower. That did the trick. Worst case scenario, he could always look at some more genital warts.

Peter doubted that Felicia had any sicknesses, given how careful she was about stealing stuff… okay, not the same thing… but he went to the drugstore to pick up some condoms anyway. For once, the Parker luck left him the hell alone. He didn’t run into Gwen or Mary-Jane or anyone. He just paid for his condoms, stuffed them in his backpack, and got the hell out of Dodge.

Then he remembered hearing about how hard they were to put on, especially during sex ed class which had put Peter off banana pudding for all time, and so he spent about half an hour in the bathroom practicing putting them on. He was just getting the hang of it when he realized he had used up half his packet. Maybe he should’ve tested with the same one instead of trying new ones each time (though using the same one seemed… unsanitary. The whole process seemed unsanitary. He was unclear on how people avoided pausing mid-coitus to wash their hands).

The next morning he carefully slotted four condoms into the spaces in his wallet where he was supposed to have credit cards. He hoped it would be enough. There’d been times, usually after spending a lot of time with MJ, when he’d been horny enough to whack off, waited five minutes, then had to go again. But four seemed like a decent start, if anything did happen, not that he was resolved to anything happening, but he was planning for the unexpected.

She might also be a shapeshifter setting a trap, so he packed his costume and web-shooters. Besides, there’d been times she’d implied she would like if he had his web-shooters on hand… or maybe that was just referring to the web-shooter. It all seemed impossibly complex.

He showered, showered twice, then put on his Sunday best and headed off. It wasn’t until he got to the harbor that he realized he had no idea where her boat was. He shouldn’t have worried. She was standing on the pier, dressed in a red and blue two-piece. She looked like a goddess stepping down into a grungy world of fishermen and diesel oil, and unfortunately ruining her spaghetti-strap sandals. She gave her a big smile and gestured for him to come over… no, to come hither.

Peter had once heard that there was psychological undertones to a female wearing a male’s clothing. It had to do with dominance and territory and all sorts of caveman stuff. Peter couldn’t really remember any of it off-hand, but he did know that seeing Felicia in a bikini version of his costume made him want to do things that were very much not covered in sex ed.

“You’ve grown a few inches,” she said, patting his head. “It’ll be good practice.”

She still had two or so inches on him, but at least he came up to above her breasts. That had gotten awkward.

Felicia flicked at the buttons of his vest. “We’ll have to discuss proper boating attire later. Get on the boat.”

Peter nodded. He wasn’t onboard for a moment before he began stripping down to the waist. He felt pale and hairless, but when Felicia looked back from the wheelhouse her laughter was loving. “And the shoes!”

He kicked them down into the hold, his shiny brown shoes and his dull black socks. Felicia piloted expertly, taking them out into deep waters. She threw some sunblock back to him and he rubbed it on, a bit surprised she hadn’t taken advantage of the opportunity for some quality time. He quickly got the cut of her jibe when she undid her top in the back, the same way she had when he’d tried to arrest her. The strap, now hanging off her shoulders, revealed no tanline.

“You mind, Pete?”

He squeezed a premature splotch into his hand and rubbed it over her back. Felicia didn’t turn around, but she did part her legs akimbo. He got down on his knees, worshipfully, to rub the lotion up and down her shapely calves, her creamy thighs. She had the perfect bubble butt in those scanty webbed shorts of hers. His fingers wandered to it, his first knuckles traipsing under her hemline. She giggled. It was quite possibly the most erotic sound he’d ever heard.

“Now do my front,” she said, her voice operatically low.

Peter stood, wound his arms around her sides, and rubbed a new gush of lotion into her abdomen. She was surprisingly muscular there. He greatly enjoyed fingering the lines of her muscles, like he was a paleontologist dusting off bones.

“Do you think it’s wrong, what we’re doing?” Felicia throttled down. “Who knows what's wrong and right? Is stealing always wrong? Is taking the law into your own hands always wrong?”

She turned. Her top slid off her torso and fluttered to the ground. Her breasts had become impossibly more… real, since last night. No longer weird, fantastical, adult things, they were tactile. He could reach out and…

He did.

She moaned winsomely at the simple pleasure of their flesh connecting. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and fixated on him as if he were the only other thing worth notice in the universe. “It can't be that wrong to make each other feel good. We're not harming anyone. We’re just doing what comes naturally. We’re in international waters now, spider. No law except the law of nature. So do what feels right."

He moved his hands down over her body, not even maintaining the slightest pretense of applying lotion. Peter hooked his fingers into her bikini bottoms, pulling the string out. “Is it narcissistic if I get turned on by you wearing those?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he took them off.

Seeing her naked froze him solid. He had, all of a sudden, no idea what to do. ‘Do what feels right’ was all well and good, but he had no idea what would feel right. Was he just supposed to… go, or was it back to the breast-touching (he had liked that part, but would she be bored with it?) or was there some third thing he could be doing? The down of her crotch was right there, intimidating the hell out of him. What exactly was he supposed to do with that?

“Are you a virgin?” she asked him after ten consecutive seconds of physical hemming and hawing.

“No, I, uh, no… not as such.”

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“Relax. I’m a virgin.” She kissed his cheek. “I’m just not very good at it.”

She reached down and undid his belt. He nearly whimpered, nearly shuddered, but Peter had planted his hands firmly on her waist and that handhold seemed to keep him sane. As frustrating as it had been initially to learn that Spider-Man wasn’t the Casanova Felicia had fancied him as, there was something appealing about the notion of being his first. She could mold him, train him, turn him into the perfect lover. “Girls your age are so… small-minded. They don't know what they want. Take Mary-Plain for instance…"

She pushed his pants down at the crotch low enough to reveal the triangle of his pelvic bone and the shade of his pubic hair. She knew she was driving him crazy. It was damn fun.

“Girls like that love to talk, but when it comes to the showdown they fall flat on their asses. Besides, her tits are too small. You need a woman with tits like mine, the kind you can bite into.”

He stepped out of his pants. His body was lean, young; a swimmer’s physique, sleek and well-formed. It thrilled her.

Felicia cupped her hands under her breasts. She massaged them, rolling them around before pointing her stiff nipples up at the sky. “Aren't you going to tell me you like my tits?”

He kissed her, as good as she’d ever remembered it, and steadily growing more heated.

“I love them,” he said unnecessarily, as if the kiss wasn’t proof enough.

“If you love them, why not take them?”

“Take them?”

“Yes, just that simple.” Her voice painted her as amused, her eyes painted her as downright feral. “If you like me, you can have me.”

“Have you,” Peter said. It was no longer a question. He was very much liking the sound of that.

“All of me,” she confirmed. Then she smiled, almost breaking the sexual tension, and offered her breast to his watering mouth. "Suck it. It’s the easiest way I know to get me wet."

He didn’t so much open his mouth as let his lips numbly part, but she worked her nipple into his mouth anyway. Despite Peter’s general daze, his mouth was wet and warm and she was heated enough to enjoy that.

“I told you to suck it,” she hissed. ”Hell, bite it if you want. Just make me feel it.”

He bit down. She groaned happily. Perfect, perfect. Peter gnashed his teeth just sharply enough, quickly discerning the place between too sharp and too flat. Felicia noticed her hands curled into excited fists before she loosened them to caress the back of his neck, toy with the hair standing up there.

“You need a woman who knows what to do with a cock once she's wrapped her lips around it."

After a while, and with no small amount of reluctance, she pushed his face away. The nipple he’d been chewing was wet, swollen, and pleasantly raw, just like his cock was hard against her thigh. Felicia reached down to run a finger over it.

“You seem tense. Let me get you something to drink.”

“I’m sixteen!” Peter protested, with his cock dripping precum.

Felicia fished through the drink cabinet, coming up with a shaker. She mixed them both martinis, taking a moment to breath in the fresh air. It felt good to be out here, with nothing but blue sea and blue sky for as far as the eye can see. No sound but the lovely music of her lover’s hitched breathing and the ocean’s gentle swell. It was a strangely peaceful setting for their passion, but she enjoyed it. And was determined to make it last.

She poured the drink into two wide-bodied glasses, passed one to him. “Here’s to us.”

As self-conscious about his nudity as Felicia was comfortable with hers, Peter drank. It was a softer drink than the few hard beverages he’d sample, going down as smooth as the warmth it spread through his body. He nodded, watching Felicia confidently sip hers, gazing over the lip of the glass with hungry eyes.

The tension was leaving his muscles, leaving him open and willing. He fished through the pocket of his discarded pants, careful to crouch so as not to show too much of himself to her, then slapped down the condom he’d retrieved onto the drink cabinet. Felicia raised her eyebrows, entertained.

“You know your way around one of those things?”

He put it on, coming through in the clinch. It fit him like a glove. Felicia finished off her drink and tossed the glass over the side, arrogantly sauntering over to him to take firm hold of his cock. A nearly inaudible grunt of pleasure escaped his lips. She smiled at it, and the heat of his phallus in her hand.

"You don't mind if I touch it, do you?" she asked.

Peter nodded most emphatically.

“You do?”

He shook his head, then stopped, confused. She laughed. He kissed her again. Felicia sensed that was quickly becoming his default response to any sexual conundrum and couldn’t care less.

It’d been a while since she’d enjoyed a good handjob, especially with an instrument as sensitive as this. Felicia lifted it with her fingers. "You've got a lovely cock. I knew you would. A guy as nice as you can’t have anything that needs compensating for.”

He was in her power and completely content there, as enthralled in her will as totally as he’d ever been with the symbiote. He didn’t mind. He trusted her.

Her voice dropped whole octaves, dripped with lust as she breathed her next question into his ear. "Does my hand feel good on your cock?"

Her hand stroked lovingly up and down his cock and he closed his eyes, bracing himself, belatedly allowing himself to nod.

“It’s been a while since I’ve felt one this… powerful. I’m just certain you’ll do wonders with it. For me. To me. On me. Your balls must be full up now, spider. And I’m going to enjoy every drop.”

Peter’s balls were so hot that they felt like they were on fire. Felicia’s hand was light, teasing, like she was fingerpainting. And worse was the pleasure she took in making him squirm, the almost-predatory smirk she favored him with while she held his swollen manhood between her fingers.

"You can touch me," she giggled. "I won't break, you know."

He looked down at her cunt. The trembling lips of her pussy seemed to invite his touch the way a flower invited being smelled.

"Can I touch you there?" he asked, his voice dry, parched.

She nodded slowly, like a gentle relaxation and tightening along her throat. “Touch my cunt. Put your fingers in me. I want you to. I want you to touch me. Please!" At the last, the heat of her lust overwhelmed her. She needed this as much as he did.

With shocking decisiveness, he cupped her pussy. She almost fainted. Her eyes widened in surprise like a deer caught in headlights. Felicia looked down to see his fingers glistening with her juices. She imagined him licking the cream off his fingers, or better yet out of her dripping cunt, and the thought made her writhe in lust. But that would have to wait until he was ready for it.

“Do you feel how wet I am?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“You did that. Rub harder.

He did. It was good, it was good, and she needed more of it, could tell he needed more too.

“Put more in.”

He did that too. His fingers went in, more and more, until he could feel her cunt squeezing his hand. It was an intense sensation, and he needed to know how it would feel around his cock.

Reaching down, Felicia pried her labia open. “Can you see my clit?"

"I think so."

"Put your finger on it."

He planted his thumb on it as his fingers moved inside her

“That’s good. That’s real good. Right there. Rub it like that, just like that."

Peter took the initiative again, rubbing her clit with the heel of his left hand as he forced his right hand into her pussy. Felicia stopped rubbing his cock to just maintain a turgid hold on it as she leaned back to focus on the lovely feelings he was eking out of her. He had lots to learn, but he was a quick learner. A damn quick learner.

She was as wet as the waves lapping against the hull, and it didn’t take long for Peter to take a hand away from her to examine the liquid coating his finger. He brought his fingertip to his lips slowly and licked at it.

Felicia watched, smoldering with lust. “Do you like how I taste, lover?” She took his hand by the wrist and brought it to her own lips, where she sucked each finger off one by one. “I do.”

He was trembling with lust, his eyes dark and hungry, and it was barely a surprise when he leaned down and sucked her clit between his lips. She howled, legs pedaling in the air, and tore into his shoulders with her fingernails.

"Yes, lover! Kiss me there, right there! That's my clit!” she gasped, as if he needed the reminder. She gulped down her arousal, steadied her voice back to the sultry mistress. “It's… very sensitive, so don't use your teeth. Just lick it. Yesss. You don't know how wonderful that feels.“

At first he was ravenous, completely and utterly driven by hunger, by slowly he became more gentle, teasing. As if amused by the power he had over her, her perfect body. Felicia buried her fingers into his brown hair, trying to force him against her, but his kisses simply became longer and hotter. Quick learner.

“Use your tongue on my cunt! Make my juices flow!” she begged, no longer worrying if he was ready or not ready. She was confident he could take anything she threw at him.

Peter moved down to the bottom of her slit and kissed her there with nipping teeth before he moved upward, licking the field of her cunt. It set her on fire.

"Oh God! Lick me! Lick my fucking cunt! Make me hot! Make me drip! Oh God, no one has ever made me this hot!”

“No one?” Peter asked in amazement.

"No one." She put her legs up on his shoulders, letting gravity do the rest. “And now, I want you to show me how you’d use a cock. Stiffen your tongue and use it like you would a cock.”

“No.” Peter’s eyes were steely as he deposited her on the bottom of the boat. “No more appetizers. I want you. All of you.”

“Then take me.”

The thought of how her greedy cunt would feel sucking him down had left Peter numb with anticipation. As Felicia opened herself before him, propped up on her elbows and legs spread, Peter resolved not to freeze up again. He forced himself to kneel down between her open knees, then to put his hands on either side of her luscious body and shift his weight forward so he was on his hands and knees before her. He thrust himself into her, guided by her hands and smoky eyes, and did it fast, too fast, it was overwhelming. Slick and warm and tight, like a dozen soft hands were squeezing him.

“I didn't know it would feel like that!” he gasped. Then he noticed her grimace. “Oh no, did I hurt you?”

“Oh, no…” Felicia laughed and kissed him. “Let me help you.”

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With her hands at his hips, she began to ease him into a slow rhythm. Peter watched the hypnotic repetition of her face tensing and untensing as he thrust into her. In short order he had abandoned her subtle lovemaking for harder, deeper thrusts.

Felicia moaned sharply. She hadn’t expected him to be gentle, knowing he was nervous and eager and probably most of the things she’d felt her first time. But she’d been a rebel even back then, and she’d channeled her nervousness into aggression. She knew he was the same way when his thrusts went even deeper, ever harder. Felicia gave up control and let him fuck her, dictating the pace and rhyme of their coupling, until all too soon she felt a flash of heat along her loins. An orgasm. It made her let go of a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

“Felicia,” Peter gasped, his face tight, his eyes narrowed. He was close, she was gone, long past gone.

Felicia smiled as she crossed her legs across the small of his back. C’mon, lover. Show me what you got.

He did, backing off a little before his thrusts became truly painful, settling instead to nurture whatever orgasmic pleasure he’d seen her take in the last few minutes. He reached down to finger her clit and it went through her like an underwater earthquake, practically unnoticeable until the shockwaves parted her lips and shut her eyes.

She ground back as best she could, but it was a losing battle. He had her and she couldn’t be happier about it. “You don't know what you're doing to me, spider!”

“I’m fucking you,” he growled deep into her ear. She liked how he sounded. He sounded like a man should sound, not at all like the boys (yes, boys, no matter how old they were, the preening, self-satisfied lot of them) she’d been with.

Peter felt tension building up throughout his body, squeezing him tighter and tighter, wringing all of his energy down into where he was joined with Felicia. He registered her fingernails digging into his back like the pins and needles of a foot gone asleep, distant and vaguely irritating. Her mouth was perpetually open in a keening, then breathy, then again keening sound, like a klaxon announcing her orgasm. The mental picture made him chuckle; Felicia topped him with a boisterous laugh, a warrior woman laugh that faded away into the clenchpopreleasegone of her climax.

Peter came, a drain that brought him down from 100% to 0.02% in six seconds flat. It was different from his masturbation, more voluminous, more slick and damp and in the end, more luxuriously pleasurable. The release itself was almost depressingly quick and simple, but getting there had been absurdly… fun. As was the afterglow. As was she… his lover. Felicia giggled again, an echo of her warrior woman laugh.

“Stole you,” she said as they moved together onto a beach chair, Felicia half-dragging him there with her seemingly inexhaustible energy (Peter felt like he was in shock, a submergible lag like his entire body had fallen asleep without telling him) until he was flat on his back, naked and not caring a whit.

Felicia fell on top of him, slumped to his side, a leg thrown over his and her arms forming a pillow on his chest for her head to rest on. Her white hair trickled all over his upper body, tickling his nostrils when the wind blew the right way. He laughed and she laughed; just a brisk, happy sound on a brisk, happy day.

“You know,” she said, pulling on a cute little sun hat, “you didn’t oil me all up. I could burn.”


She squeezed out the lotion onto his hand, then brought it round her hip. With her other hand she began to lave sunblock over his legs, down around his kneecaps and steadily upward. “I was still wearing bottoms when you covered me, remember? So, oil me up. Then I'll let you fuck me another way,” she added in the exact same pleasant tone.

Her voice was as honeyed and as thick as a narcotic.

Peter was having a whole new kind of jinx day and he couldn’t care less what the jinx would be.

Also, some Ultimate Spidey/bitches:

Specifically, twelve chapters of Ultimate Spidey/bitches...and growing.

>This story contains consensual sex, non-soncensual, mind control (to a degree), M/F, M/M/F, M/F/F, F/F, oral, anal, Preg and other things too.

Dear diary,


Any more?

Just watched Second Season.

We definitely need some #34 of Gwen's new look....


File: 124930366936.jpg-(109.87KB, 609x927, gwenspectaculargoblinforumla.jpg)


What th-
I thought this died, like, two months ago. The hell? Good story, by the way.

File: 125504614723.jpg-(861.69KB, 1027x768, comingsoon.jpg)
New from Catthouse's Mac!

File: 125504618246.jpg-(121.59KB, 676x800, MAC-GwenRough.jpg)

File: 125504622026.jpg-(196.78KB, 688x1000, MAC-GwenJunk.jpg)

File: 12550462633.jpg-(150.84KB, 800x690, MAC-Stan34.jpg)


Less delightful.


HA HA HA!!! Oh Mac..

>MJ swinging of with Gwen, dildo in hand
>Gwen reduced to a puddle of sexiness by MJ and said dildo
>Pete reacting to this with a Big No and matching pose

File: 125635474858.jpg-(240.82KB, 723x1024, spiderman01.jpg)
Stumbled across this little comic. If you ignore the terrible english and stupid premise, the art is fairly close to the show.

File: 125635479142.jpg-(226.70KB, 724x1024, spiderman02.jpg)

File: 125635483373.jpg-(268.03KB, 724x1024, spiderman03.jpg)

File: 125635488975.jpg-(284.15KB, 724x1024, spiderman04.jpg)

File: 125635493049.jpg-(275.65KB, 724x1024, spiderman05.jpg)

File: 125635497164.jpg-(272.47KB, 724x1024, spiderman06.jpg)

File: 125635500980.jpg-(206.95KB, 724x1024, spiderman07.jpg)

File: 12563550502.jpg-(275.64KB, 724x1024, spiderman08.jpg)

File: 125635508731.jpg-(273.26KB, 724x1024, spiderman09.jpg)

File: 125635512133.jpg-(225.81KB, 724x1024, spiderman10.jpg)

File: 125635516363.jpg-(286.56KB, 724x1024, spiderman11.jpg)

File: 125635526813.jpg-(213.11KB, 724x1024, spiderman12.jpg)

Man, I know from experience how inconstant an artist's output can be, but with this comic it's like they had one competent penciller and one mediocre (at best) one working on the same comic and trading off panels. But the colors are good.

And to give the devil his due, it's probably the best work I've ever seen from Drawn-Sex. They must've finally hired someone who isn't a trainwreck of an artist.

Or maybe they just stole it.


i know this is old as fuck but is anyone here interested in continuing that fic?

which one? The one that OP posted and the writer cock blocked us?- I personally want that one completed

I say both.

File: 127223281944.jpg-(491.08KB, 1280x1967, Ultimate Spider-Man #9 012.jpg)
Sorry for the thread resurrection but this scene from the latest Ultimate Spider-Man TOTALLY reminded me of it.

File: 12722328867.jpg-(615.00KB, 1280x1965, Ultimate Spider-Man #9 013.jpg)

File: 12722329292.jpg-(532.29KB, 1280x1987, Ultimate Spider-Man #9 014.jpg)

Huh? Haven't read USM for years, but wasn't Gwen Stacy... um... vitally challenged? Did they reboot everything again or what?


Some shit happened with Carnage and he more or less regurgitated a perfect copy of Gwen. The weird thing is that nobody really seems to question wether this is really Gwen or not.

File: 127223728378.jpg-(254.90KB, 452x930, 1256879947883.jpg)


And yes, it is as retarded as it sounds.


Jesus. For real? Who's writing it nowadays?


Still Bendis.


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