Peter grabbed her hair and pulled her towards him, cumming deep in her ass.

"You little slut," he pushed her face into the dirt, "you enjoyed every minute."

Tears ran down Felicia's face into the dirt. She felt Peter wipe his cock on the fabric of her costume. She turned to look at him, makeup and hair a mess. She looked... vulnerable.

"Okay, you've had your fun." Felicia fought to keep her voice steady. "But understand, if you try this again -"

Before she could blink she felt a sharp kick in her stomach. Peter put his foot on her throat and, god help her, she didn't have the strength to fight back.

"No, bitch, you understand. I own you now." He pushed down with his foot until she was struggling for air, then stepped away. "Get up."

"No, please not..."

"Get. Up." Something in his eyes told her she shouldn't protest. Felicia stood up slowly, her costume was torn and covered in blood, her tits hanging out like some common whore.

"Take it off." His voice was unyielding. Felicia looked at the door, then back at Peter. Could she make it? Probably not, but she could take control of the situation.

Slowly, carefully, she began to peel off her costume, making sure to run her fingers along her curves, wiggling her ass seductively.

"Hurry up bitch."

"Yes sir," she knew it drove him crazy when she called him that, "whatever you say."

She stood naked and looked at him. He was sitting down on an old armchair, covered in stains. His cock was already hard. She walked over and straddled him. Then, looking straight in his eyes, she began to grind back and forth, slowly. Peter looked back at her, and she knew she had won. He loved her, Spiderman was strong, but Peter Parker was weak. He wanted her to be in control. Peter pushed a strand of her hair out of her eyes.

"Felicia..." he smiled at her, "You are not in control here."

"Peter, peter, peter..." she whispered in her sexiest voice. "I promise I'll never -"

His hand grabbed her throat, and he threw her off his lap.

"I said YOU ARE NOT IN CONTROL." He was breathing heavily. She tried to crawl away but he pounced on her, pinning her hands down, cock getting harder as she struggled. He thrust into her, cock still lubricated with the blood from her ass. They both groaned - her with pain, and him with pure relief. She started to scream, but one look from him and she was silent. She could hear his grunts, the wet thud as he thrust in and out of her. A sharp pain as his cock hit her cervix. Peter could feel her getting wetter and wetter, a natural response to sex, beyond her control. And then he felt something, her hips thrusting towards him. Was the slut enjoying this? He pushed harder and deeper, and was rewarded with a slight moan.

"Want me to make you cum?" he whispered in her ear.