Romans & histoires Twist His D Spiderman

“It’s been nice knowing you, Spider.” “I’m not going to kill him.” Taz chuckled. “Intentionally.” “Do you want gloves?” Spider asked. “No, I’m not cold. Thanks for asking.” She replied with a grin as she pulled off her sweatshirt. She was in black leggings and a bright blue fitted tank top. Her slip on shoes lay on the floor. They circled each other for a moment and then Spider took a few hits to her abdomen. He had assumed that she was in good shape and strong. But the strong wall of muscle surprised him. She smiled at his look of shock.

While I was distracted, dazed by the kiss, I felt him shift, the thick head of his cock brushing my entrance again. Then came the command, low and demanding: “Spread your legs.” I tried, thighs falling open wider but it wasn’t enough. Not for him. He growled and gripped my legs, forcing them apart until I felt like I was being split open. My body burned with the stretch, the strain, the overwhelming vulnerability. Damian shifted again, rising into a crouch, Spiderman-style straddling me from above like some primal beast ready to devour. His hands anchored my thighs wide, pinning them down as he slammed into me from that new angle.

I’m supposed to have fun, but to be honest, I’m bored. A guy steps out from the lounge. My attention is drawn to him because he’s so much taller than the other kids who are emptying the punch bowl. He’s wearing jeans, a striped shirt, and a denim jacket. When he turns his head and fixes his gaze on me, I recognize him from outside. He’s the driver of the Alpha Spider. His lips tilt as he scrunches up the cup in his hand and aims for the trashcan against the wall, throwing a perfect hit without taking his eyes off me.

“What are you saying?” “It’s not important now. But I visited earth to do work for him. He always gets what he wants by ordering everyone. Even though we are not willing to do. My final words are: sneak out to his room. I know how to stop the order he’s giving to everyone. Are you coming?” he seemed more determined than us. Chris and I looked at each other and nodded. “Yes.” I got up from the bed stumbling. “Can you walk?” Chris worried. “Sure, as hell. It’s only difficult to use my hand.” I assured him. I have a bandage on my right hand.

But beneath the pain, something else was moving—like his body was learning new geometry. “I don’t know,” Dante admitted. Elara’s voice trembled. “Dante, please—don’t trigger your stress response.” He met her eyes. “I’m not going to panic,” he whispered. “I’m going to decide.” He pulled against the remaining restraint slowly, carefully, not fighting the polymer with brute force but with steady pressure. The stiffened material creaked, and then—with a sharp crack—gave way enough for him to free his second hand.

He tried to pull my legs from beneath me but I evaded him, using the chance to kick him in his side. “Sloppy.” He huffed, and I landed a blow on his neck for that. He nearly passed out, slumping against the wall. When he steadied, he wobbled on his feet, grimacing in pain. It didn’t make sense. Since when was Spider ever so weak? I reached out to help him and of course the fucker was only putting on an act to make me lower my guard. He twisted my arms behind me so hard I nearly cried out.

I start to climb down, gripping the cloth rope with everything I have. Don’t look up, I tell myself. *Don’t look up.* But I do. He’s there. Peering out the window, knife in hand. And then I see something peeking from under his sleeve. A spider web tattoo on his wrist. The same one the man outside had days ago. He raises the knife. No—no, no, no He starts cutting the cloth. “Please!” I scream. “Don’t—” The rope snaps. My body freefalls.

Kids are everywhere, shouting names, running ahead despite multiple teachers clapping their hands and calling for “walking feet, please!” Daxton immediately grabs both our hands—mine and Dante’s—and pulls us forward like he’s towing a yacht. His little Spider-Man grip is surprisingly strong for someone who weighs maybe fifty pounds soaking wet. I mean, his father is the Alpha King—that I’m proud of. “Come ON!” he says, bouncing on his toes. “We’re gonna miss the good spots!” I let him drag me, hyperaware of Dante’s presence on Daxton’s other side. And that’s when I notice it—Dante’s not just walking. He’s scanning. His eyes move constantly, methodically, taking in details most people wouldn’

“I even had to send you a text message.” “So, it was you,” Shadow uttered in a deadly serious tone as she was not in the mood to entertain the other. “Of course, it was me,” Spider answered proudly, running her fingers over her Dutch braid. ‘What do you want?” Shadow asked, signaling her aides to step back. “Hm?” Spider tilted her head. “What do I want, you ask?” With a quick jump, she landed on the ground. Dusting the invisible dust off her arm, she looked at Shadow. “I wanna spar with you. And maybe, make you mine?”

I didn't even know how to open up and take him in. It was at this point that Dante suddenly loosened up. He yanked his hands out of his pockets, then he grabbed my left wrist and suddenly hauled it up roughly, “This was the hand you used on me earlier, right?" He smiled again, then tilted my hand briefly then he said again, "You hit me with this hand… so you're fucking gonna use this same hand right now. I want those fingers wrapped around this cock properly before you take it into your fucking mouth.” I suddenly broke down into tears, “But…but how's this supposed to enter my mouth…it's…it's too big—” I begged. I couldn't even believe I was saying this.