Spider-Man: Web of Sticky Sins
Chapter 2 – The Web Becomes Jizzy
Kingpin sat with a regal authority, behind his expensive desk inside his VIP Suite, on the top floor of Fisk Towers. He grinned at the many screens that surrounded him, which displayed various crimes happening in New York. He felt a slight jolt of blood quicken toward his chode and flushed the area, engorging the tiny shaft and, relatively large, bell-end and japseye. He stroked the easily overlooked bulge growing in the luxurious material of his trousers – it could easily have been mistaken for a value, fun-size packet of Wriggley's Extra Chewing Gum – Peppermint Flavour.
Green Goblin flew in through Fisk's aerial entranceway, jumped off his hover jet and stood with both hands on his hips. "Ah, Green Goblin, just in time." Kingpin stroked his masculine, massive chin suggestively.
"Every time you've faced Spider-Man, you've always lost. But not anymore. I have the means to make you more powerful than ever." Fisk spoke, his fingers intertwining like an orgy of bum-sex. He then led Green Goblin to a laboratory part of his VIP Suite.
In a freaky wheelchair, Alistair Smythe sat, grinning as he saw, what he considered to be, sexual perfection in the shape of his employer – Wilson Fisk.
"Smythe! Stop adoring me with those eyes of yours!" Fisk ordered and Alistair obeyed like the sub he was.
"I have developed a new Green Goblin formula, must like the one that originally turned you into this monstrosity – but my version is one million percent gayer and three hundred percent more powerful. Oh, and it may cause your balls to swell." Smythe spoke like a teacher to his dirty, dirty class.
"Sounds hot." Green Gobs smirked.
"I will also make some improvements to your hover board; I can't think of anything right now, so I'll leave that for the following chapters."
Kingpin agreed then something deep within his crotch made a moving sensation, which made him squeal inwardly with a little horniness – nearly disturbing the secret knob-cheese.
A vibration emitted from his pocket, which he wished were a big, black cock, but much to his disappointment, it was merely his phone. Kingpin grunted like a dog who must stop licking his balls and answered it with a beep.
"Fisk" He answered in a dismissive tone.
"Boss, I'm still at the Parker's house. You'll see – I have this sneaking suspicion that Peter Parker is Spider-Man!" The mystery voice, on the other side of the line, announced indignantly. Kingpin repositioned his loose scrotum.
"I've had enough of this obsession of yours. Peter Parker is not Spider-Man! I do not know how your tiny mind works – there is no way they could possibly be the same person. I mean, Peter Parker takes photographs of Spider-Man; if they were the same person, would he be able to do that?" Fisk finished, proud of his defence, your honour.
"He could just put the camera down and put it on a timed setting?" The mystery voice suggested.
"How dare you question my impeccable logic?!" Kingpin quietly, sternly said. His voice was quiet, but you could tell he was seething like a bitch underneath – like when someone completes a wonder you've been building for thirty-three turns.
"I'm sorry, boss, I-…"
"Stop talking, Chameleon. Come here at once and stop pretending to be Parker's aunt. Get her from where you sedated her and make sure she remembers nothing of what has happened." Kingpin ordered like a SPH mistress.
The line was silent for a moment, then…
"Understood." Chameleon pressed his obvious belt, which returned him to his hideous self. Just before hanging up, Kingpin made a purring sound, like he was masturbating, then the line was dead. Chameleon sighed, scratched his big cock and small balls, then went to get Aunt May, erase her memory and put everything back as normal.
Meanwhile, at the Daily Bugle…
"What the fuck are these?!" Jameson shouted, making veins pop in his daddy forehead. Peter Parker, who was sat opposite in his master's office, squirmed and sank into his faux leather chair.
JJ inspected several polaroid pictures of Spider-Man performing various poses, which littered his desk like a murder enquiry.
"Let me get this straight… Green Goblin rimmed Spider-Man, in front of half the city, and you didn't get any pictures of it?!" Peter looked down, ashamed, his asshole still a little lubed-up from Green Gob's tongue, and even more sensitive.
"Are you even listening, Parker?!" Peter jerked up.
"And none of these pictures even have his cock showing, or balls! What the hell do I pay you for?! If Spider-Man's there, his cock's there! And I wanna suck it! I mean, erm… See it…" Jameson demanded, like a hostage-taker.
"If you wanna keep your job…" He unzipped his grey trousers and lifted his famous blue blazer.
"Suck my cock." He ordered.
Peter looked shyly at JJ's bulge forming beneath his tightie-whitie Y-fronts. His japseye was poking through the front pocket slightly, with a purple hue.
Peter gulped away his words of protest and fell onto his knees, like he was being sacrificed to the Aztec Gods. JJ manipulated his head and shoulders, like the shampoo, in an attempt to hide Peter under his desk so it wasn't visible he was about to be sucked-off by his most useless, but secretly favourite, photographer.
Just as Peter's lips clasped themselves around JJ's Cock, like a sex doll who's frequently face-fucked, JJ's other photographer, Eddie Brock walked into the office and looked down at Jameson's desk. "These pictures aren't as good as mine, JJ! I promise you I can get picture of Spider-Man getting fucked up the ass by The Lizard!"
"Promises, promises, Brock! You've always been my shittest photographer! The best photograph you've ever taken was of Dormammu's dogs, and I'm not into bestiality, Brock!"
Eddie looked down like he was about to cry. "But I really wanna suck your cock, JJ!" He pleaded.
"Only if you take some great photographs!" Jameson then came and a little jizzum came out his japseye, and couldn't hide his little, girly sigh of spunk.
Brock then looked down suspiciously, then under the desk.
"Peter! You're… You're sucking Jameson's cock…" Eddie sweated like a fat bird at a rave and then looked maddeningly angry.
Peter tried to run away, but the lure of the cock kept his sucking; then he tried to speak but his mouth was so full of cum and spunk that he couldn't even breathe – if it wasn't for his secret Spidey powers, he probably would have died.
Brock then stormed-off, vowing to get revenge on Peter.
After much more sucking, JJ picked Peter up, bridal-style and they made-out with tongue, with Parker's mouth still full of cum, and they transferred the white, sticky substance between their mouths.
Robbie Robertson walked in, casually, and didn't even react to his boss's perverse, rapey ways. He was used to it, since he saw her piledriving Miss Brant, and the new intern fuck boy a week last Thursday.
"Peter, I just spotted Chameleon inside your flat as I drove by."
"My flat?! Aunt May!" He spoke, some spunk dribbling out of his lips. He then raced-off and changed into his Spidey suit, on the roof of the Daily Bugle. He jumped from the roof and web-swinged toward their flat; his butthole looked cute in the suit, despite the Spidey skiddies.
"Wait a minute…"
He landed on a rooftop and sat down in deep thought. "Aunt May was asking super-weird this morning… Chameleon must've disguised himself as Aunt May, to try and figure out my secret identity!" Spider-Man concluded and clenched his fists angrily.
"I'm coming for you, Chameleon!"
Aunt May sliced some Ye Olde Oak hot dog sausages – eight of them, which is the usual amount you get in the tin. She then added a sachet of flavouring and sauce that you get in the Smoky BBQ wrap pack from Aldi, then added a tin of their most luxurious, seedy tinned tomatoes.
"Peter's been looking so tired recently, and his little asshole looked a little sore – I'll make him his favourite, to cheer him up and to help his butthole heal." She spoke to herself, like a mad person.
With a kick, Spider-Man exploded through the front door then sprinted into the kitchen. "Chameleon! You've gone too far this time!"
Aunt May screamed.
"Spider-Man! Have you gone mad?!"
"Is that what I am, Aunt May, mad?" He clapped, then realised that was shit and said the same thing again but pointed at his head and said it much more impressively this time.
Spider-Man came closer and got her into a headlock.
"Thinking you can impersonate Aunt May, you cunt!" He choked her like she was Doctor Conners in one of his famous, dick-choking moods.
"You don't even smell like her! You smell like an old pussy covered in smegma and old trout!" He sniffed her hair in disgust and threw her against the refrigerator. Spider-Man then picked her up by her blonde, wig-like pubes and interrogated her like The Punisher.
"Tell me! Who sent you?!" Spider-Man smashed her head with her refrigerator door.
Aunt May screamed, feeling her neck bones crack.
Spider-Man chucked her against the wall and dropkicked her titties. She then fell down unconscious. He then kneeled beside her and tried to find The Chameleon's belt. "It must be somewhere! You always wear that gay belt!"
It then dawned on Spider-Man.
"Oh my God! This is the real Aunt May!" He began to cry and rushed her to New York City Hospital.
Several days later, and several, intimately invasive test later, Aunt May finally became conscious. Peter, who never left her bedside, not even to suck JJ's cock when he asked, saw her eyes open and hugged her. "Aunt May! You're Alive!" He stated, like a simpleton.
"I'm so sorry that I… I mean Spider-Man did that to you…" He cried more within his guilt.
"Don't worry, Peter, I got pictures of the whole thing, and I'm going to sue the cunt!"
Peter's eyes went wide.
"The doctor says you'll be paralyzed from the… Pussy down, for the rest of your natural life." Peter told her, his penis feeling smaller than ever.
"So, I'll be able to get a fortune out of that wall-crawling faggot! I'll even be able to afford one of those wheelchairs that lovely Mr. Smythe makes."
Peter felt sick to his stomach and rushed quickly out.
He entered the men's toilets and pissed loads, in the nearest urinal. His balls shrunk more than ever in his young life. His piss was an amber colour.
Then a pink mist engulfed him.
He could smell fishy fanny.
An old lady's voice cut through the horny smoke, and Peter was teleported to what seemed like her personal domain.
"Spider-Man! You've fucked-up pretty badly this time, haven't you?!" She spoke emotionlessly but condescendingly at the same time.
"Who are you?! And how do you know I'm Spider-Man?!" He was suddenly naked and humiliated.
"Your small willy, of course."
She came into view.
"Greetings, wall-crawler! I am Madam Web!"
Please read and review. Spider-Man will jizzum onto Madam Web's tits if you do. And she will suck his small cock! Japseye.