I'm going to hell for this.
I know I am. Ah well, it was fun to write, didn't take more than two hours or so.
Lemon ahead, between a severely repressed schoolgirl and a spider with the form of a really, really hot woman, along with some very poetic prose, you have now been warned.
Also, this is all SawyerRaleigh's fault. No, really. I would NOT have written this if she hadn't been making up yet more lesbian crack pairings that she's never going to write.
Miyuki had had some strange dreams in her time, but this one took the cake.
She was sitting, well, more like sprawled on the ground with her skirt tangled up around her thighs, in an empty path of earth, rather like a hollow of dry ground. Around her, there were skeleton-gray trees that reached for an midnight-dark sky, studded with faded stars and a full moon, bone-white and far larger than it should have been. Ghostly spiderwebs were spread out through the trees, glowing in the stark moonlight.
At least it didn't have any scantily dressed women trying to strip off her clothes and have their way with her. Which was pretty arousing, but satisfied nothing and woke her feeling upset and repressed. Which was odd because she didn't want women like that, did she?
Ah well, musing over weird dreams wasn't going to get her out of this predicament.
She tried to remember how she'd even supposedly ended up there. She was on her way to school, and had stopped to look at a butterfly caught in a spiderweb. She'd carefully undone the strands from it's legs, because she didn't want to see such a pretty, delicate creature as dinner for any spider, and then gone on her way.
She thought she'd made it maybe a block before she'd walked into a web and gone sprawling.
She didn't remember hitting the ground, but she must have, and she was just...unconscious with a head injury or something.
Because even for her dreams, she was unusually lucid.
The wind sighed in the trees, the first trace of sound since falling down. And with it came the growl of something big, mammalian, and hungry.
Miyuki hugged her bag to her chest, glancing around the clearing wildly. There was nothing that she saw...except the way that the wind was moving all the trees to her right, except the one that was swaying overly much right in front of her.
The growl resounded again, and then was answered by the click-tap of spider feet.
She couldn't say how she knew the second sound was spider feet, but she knew. And between spiders and mysterious growling things, she'd take any escape route she could get!
As if on cue, or by dues ex machina, two of the trees bent, pulled over by silvery webs, and she wasted no time sprinting for it, even as the winds picked up nastily and the click-tap stopped ominously.
The ground shook under her feet, and Miyuki almost tripped, bag flying from her hands as she kept running along the road, not even slowing to consider if running on a path where there appeared to be wind monsters was such a good idea.
The wind tangled around her feet and threatened to trip her again, but at the same time, it felt like there were ropes on her arms and body, keeping her aloft enough for flight.
The part of her that was overly thrilled at the touch could shut up till she found someplace where she wasn't being attacked by winds.
As the road wound down towards a mountain glowing with yellow daffodils, the winds pulled her in a different direction than the ropes, and she found herself obeying the thread's pull, off to the side.
The winds tore furiously at her legs, and one pebble leaped up from the earth and sliced across the upper part of her thigh. But ahead of her, she could see feather-light threads in front of her, illuminated by the harsh light. They extended from a gateway into a desolate house.
Before the winds could do worse, she was through the gate and slowing to a stop.
Turning, Miyuki saw the empty gate opening flash gray and then more webs like the ones of the trees closed it up.
There was no other space in the wall short or wrecked enough for her to climb away.
The only way, the only path was the ruined house.
She gulped, reached for her bag that wasn't there, squared up her courage and walked in. After all, her leg was bleeding, and if anything, she was pretty sure that meant she was no longer dreaming.
At least there might be someone helpful in the building.
She hoped.
The crumbled entryway had burn marks all over it and a thin mist that tangled lovingly with falling bricks and wall, and a stairway that went down instead of up. The fog grew thicker, twining about her legs much like a cat as she walked down mysteriously solid stairs.
They bottomed out into what looked much like a ballroom, with broken glass from a thousand mirrors scattered across the floor like shards of silver ice. Miyuki cautiously stepped through the mess, searching for someone, anyone.
There was nothing, except a patch of floor empty of glass and spiderwebs throughout the area, a ghost's haunt if anything.
Outside, she heard the howling of winds with the sharp cry of a tanuki, and sunk to her knees, then her butt on the floor.
She wanted out, she wanted away, she wanted to wake up.
"Oh little girl, there is no way out without proper payment." a very rich voice, sultry purred from the shadows. Deep and feminine, it made her feel like she was eating dark chocolate, half melted and sliding erotically through her fingertips.
'This is not the time for that!' she reprimanded herself and tried to square up her courage to speak. It worked, sort of. "Who's there?" she squeaked, the sounds disjointed and bitter in the empty room.
The webs suddenly glowed with all the brilliance of the moon, reflecting off the mirror pieces till she was in a metallic winter wonderland. In another corner, shadowy, deep, she saw the silhouette of a woman shifting on them, somehow. "I'm the finger down your spine when all the lights are out, I'm the name you cry in the shadows of the blackest moon. I'm the one who hears your every little secret and spins them into my webs. I'm the finest dream and worst nightmare a man can have."
She shivered, but not with fright, but with something more primal than that as the woman crooned, curling her body about the room on shining webs. "I'm the one you'll always want to be on my good side for, I've tricked the wish-granter to my side before. And everyone always wants to know just who I am."
Dear god, this woman was worse than even the naughtiest of her dreams. "And you are?"
She stepped onto the ground with feet more graceful than a dancers, long legs with stockings like webs reaching up to end at a very short nightgown. The same webbing covered her arms, sliding up elegant wrists like slave bracelets, and she had soft sungold hair that made her skin look just as icy as the reflective shards. Her eyes were the only part of her definably inhuman, a souless black that seemed to see everything. "There are those that call me the Joro-gumo. But I prefer Yokujou when addressing lovely young maidens that tumble into my den."
Joro-gumo. The matron of spiders, luring hapless men to their deaths with their unearthly looks. "But why, why me?" she gasped, absolutely certain that she was about to become dinner for this spider-woman.
Somehow the woman knew how to walk through the glass without cutting her bare feet, finding bare spots Miyuki wouldn't have easily seen. "It's not every day that it's a pretty girl meaning well who releases dinner from my children's web, nor avoids hurting a child by walking into a web instead." Her shoulders rippled in what was presumably a shrug. "My dears were angry, of course, and wanted to take your legs away for a while, but I said instead bring you to me."
Miyuki shifted backwards, forgetting the glass behind her, and put her hand down hard on a sharp piece. She cried out in pain, quickly bringing the cut to her mouth, catching the piece of glass in her teeth and spitting out to the side.
The joro-gumo shifted and suddenly she was crouching in the empty space, licking at the cut almost tenderly. Miyuki gasped at the shifting sensations, the heat that clenched her body tight and kept her from pulling her hand away.
"So tasty." the woman purred erotically, and Miyuki was again reminded of chocolate, rich and melting. "I can see why that fuuri wanted you so badly little girl. You make that little wish-granter look sour by comparison."
Miyuki gasped again when the spider-woman ran her tongue across the healing cut, leaving it in tingling fire, and up to her wrist. "W-what is your price for not p-punishing me for breaking the w-webs?" she stuttered out as her sleeve was pushed back ever so slightly, warm wetness dipping into the curve of her wrist where her pulse throbbed with stubborn insistence. "Ah!"
Delicate fingertips slid on her right calf, tracing the dips and rises of her flesh up to the cut on her inner thigh, that had suddenly seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. She shuddered in undeniable pleasure as fingertips caressed it, impossibly gentle. She found herself wanting those finger to go up, just a little more, and make her scream in ecstasy. "I want something that you still have, something that you can give away but once. Something that you shouldn't give away without care." She removed her tongue from Miyuki's wrist, to free her other hand and send it to the collar of her uniform.
Miyuki had a pretty good suspicion of what she meant, but it was hard to speak anyway, with damning teasing fingers on her leg and the front of her uniform falling to its pieces by the other hand by her throat. She moaned as the woman ran petal-soft lips onto the dip of her neck, tried to hold her there with her own hands, and found them tied to the ground by webs. The glass around them had spread back, to leave more of the floor safely bare.
The top of her school uniform tumbled to the floor, attached only by her arms. She shivered with the loss of cloth as the woman straddled her, and this was turning out to be better than any dream.
The hand on her thigh vanished from where she could feel it, and reappeared on her stomach, spider-light fingertips leaving her panting for much, much more. Then both hands snaked around to her back, tracing the curve up to her bra strap.
That came undone as easily as the shirt had, and the webs slid away long enough for the woman to pull it off of her entirely, leaving it in a sad heap on the ground.
Warm hands on her breasts were erotic, were sensual. Deep black empty eyes were full of more than Miyuki could ever understand. She was already lost, already gone in sensation. She was far too far to come back.
"Tell me you can give me that which I want as my price, little lost one." the joro-gumo whispered seductively. "Tell me I can take it from you and leave you in that bliss that I can give."
"Oh, oh please!" Miyuki begged. Coherency fled her after that as the woman slid along her body, leaving her shaking with desire.
Fingers coiled around the waistband of her skirt, then let go, slid down between her legs so that she was gasping from that hinted, muted touch. Then, up her thighs, the spider-woman caressing her with expertise that still left her feeling like she would die without that continued movement.
Her panties did not stay on long after that at all, and the joro-gumo slid around behind her, pulling Miyuki to lie her back against her chest, hands again travelling low, so low and close.
Miyuki cried out without shame when she was granted that perfection of sensation, fingers sliding to deep within her, a short stabbing pain mingled with everything else. She writhed, there was no other word for it, against the body of the woman, and cried out in unabashed pleasure.
As she was raised to greater heights, and greater wants, she was dimly aware that the woman was saying something. "Call me Yokujou, call me what I am."
She was balanced on the edge of the knife, poised to fall. "Call me what I was born to be."
She was lost in the explosion of heat and desire and lust and hunger of her body as she toppled over into release, the name flying in an incoherent shriek from her tortured, heaving lungs.
The spiderwebs and mirror shards shone brighter than the sun in a sunsetflash of silver.
She didn't recall more after that, just that she later woke in her bed, the moon where it should have been all along. It could have been a dream, like all the others were, but there was a new ache within, where fingers had pierced and taken her.
And a shard of a mirror, still faintly glowing, but with blood on the sharpened edge.
