Chapter 365- A Doubt of Spider Lady

Chapter 365: Chapter 365- A Doubt of Spider Lady

The system window arrived at dawn.

[ NEW ABILITY ACQUIRED — SYNTHESIS COMPLETE ]

[ SOURCE: Arachne Hybrid — Aspira — Sync Level: 87% ]

[ ABILITY TRANSFERRED — RANK: S ]

[ Steel Web Creation: The ability to produce and manipulate metallic wire strands from the user’s body or through directed energy. Tensile strength: superior to tempered steel. Adjustable thickness, length, and cutting edge. Can form barriers, bindings, lances, and defensive perimeters. ]

He read it twice.

His lips curved. Not the warm smile. Not the conversational one. The slow, knowing curve of a man who had just added another weapon to an arsenal that was becoming excessive.

[ ABILITY UPGRADE AVAILABLE ]

[ Condition: Increase sync level to 100% through emotional bond. Current sync: 87%. Required: full romantic confirmation. ]

[ Upgrade reward: Double S rank. Barrier formation. Autonomous defensive perimeter. ]

He dismissed the window with a blink.

He was standing naked in the street.

The morning light was gray, the cloud ceiling low, the ruined town silent except for the distant groan of something moving between buildings. The air was cold against his bare skin, the chill finding the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs, the lines of his hips. His coat was draped over his shoulder. His pants were on the ground beside him, folded, untouched.

The spider woman was on her knees.

Her eight legs folded beneath her, her human body upright, her silver-white hair falling over her bare shoulders. She was naked. Her tight black top was gone, her small breasts exposed, the dark nipples stiff in the cold air. Her spider body was behind her, the silver fur catching the faint light, the segments still marked with his dried cum from the night before.

Her mouth was on his cock.

She was licking.

Not sucking. Not yet. Her tongue was extended, flat, running along the shaft from base to tip in slow, deliberate strokes. The motion was careful, thorough, her tongue pressing into each vein, following the ridge of each contour, collecting the mixture of her own fluid and his residual cum that coated his skin. She swallowed. Licked again. Swallowed. The cycle was methodical, her dark eyes half-closed in concentration, her pale cheeks flushed.

He looked down at her.

The way she cleaned him was familiar. The single-minded attention. The flat, broad strokes of the tongue. The focus on the shaft rather than the head. The willingness to take her time, to be thorough, to work the surface with the patience of an animal grooming its mate.

He looked past her.

At the dogs.

Rex was lying on his side near the building entrance, his broad head resting on his paws. Mina was beside him, her tan body curled against his chest. Her tongue was out. She was licking Rex. Not his face. Not his fur. Lower. Between his hind legs. Her broad, pink tongue running over his sheath in the same slow, methodical strokes that the spider woman was using on Cruxius.

The spider woman’s eyes drifted to the dogs.

She saw Mina licking Rex. Her tongue, her strokes, her pace. The identical motion.

Her cheeks went from flushed to crimson.

She didn’t stop.

Her tongue continued its work on his cock, the motion uninterrupted, her dark eyes flicking between his shaft and her dog. The recognition was there. She had learned this from watching them. Not consciously. Not deliberately. But the pattern was in her, the grooming instinct transferred from observation to action, the way of sex absorbed from her dogs the way a child absorbs language from its parents.

He smirked.

His hand came down. His fingers threaded through her silver-white hair, ruffling it the way one ruffles the fur of a good dog after it retrieves a stick.

"Good bitch," he murmured.

The word landed on her like a warm hand. Her body trembled, her tongue pausing on his shaft, her dark eyes looking up at him. The flush deepened. Her lips parted around the head of his cock, the crown resting on her tongue.

He turned his head.

Toward the street. A zombie was walking. One of the common ones, its body twisted, its gait the shuffling, asymmetric stumble of a thing that had forgotten how knees worked. It was thirty feet away, moving parallel to them, not yet aware of their presence.

He raised his finger.

Pointed at it.

The steel web responded.

Thin, nearly transparent strands of metallic wire materialized in the air between his fingertip and the zombie. The strands were fine, barely visible, catching the gray light in brief silver flashes. They connected to the zombie’s body in six points. Shoulders. Hips. Neck. Midsection.

He twisted his hand.

The strands contracted.

The zombie didn’t have time to halt. It didn’t halt. It segmented. The wires pulled through its body in six directions simultaneously, the steel cutting through rotted flesh and corroded bone with the ease of thread through warm butter. The pieces separated. Six sections of former human fell to the asphalt in wet, separate impacts.

He smirked.

Another layer. Another ability. The steel wire was not just offensive. He could feel it in his body, the potential for defensive application already forming in his mind. A barrier. A perimeter. Woven steel strands forming a dome around him, around the women, around anything he chose to protect. The wire could be created from his body or from directed energy, the strands adjustable in thickness and edge, the tensile strength beyond anything manufactured.

The system window flickered.

[ ABILITY UPGRADE AVAILABLE — DOUBLE S RANK ]

[ Condition: Increase sync level to 100%. ]

He needed to increase her love for him.

He looked down at the spider woman. At her mouth on his cock. At her dark eyes looking up at him. At her small tits, the nipples stiff, the breasts barely larger than his palm. At her silver-white hair, ruffled from his hand.

He ruffled her hair again.

"Good bitch," he repeated.

She moaned around his cock. The vibration traveling through the shaft, the warmth of her mouth tightening around the head. Her tongue swirled, her cheeks hollowing, the suction increasing.

He came.

The load was thick. Heavy. The first pulse hitting the back of her throat, the warmth flooding her mouth. She swallowed. Her throat working around the crown, the cum sliding down in a continuous, rhythmic gulp. Her hands came up, gripping his thighs, her nails digging into his skin, her body pressing forward, taking him deeper.

"MMPH HNN GLK GLK"

She gulped it all. Her throat bulging with each swallow, her dark eyes rolling, her small tits pressing against his thigh. She held him in her throat, her tongue still working the underside of his shaft, milking the last drops.

He pulled back.

His cock emerged from her mouth, the head wet, the last string of cum connecting her lips to the tip. She coughed. The cough was violent, her body convulsing, her spider legs scraping against the ground. A thick glob of cum spilled from her lower lip, running down her chin, dripping onto her small breast.

He ruffled her hair again.

"Don’t be hard on yourself," he said.

She looked up at him. Her dark eyes were wet, her lips swollen, her chin covered in his seed. The expression on her face was not pain. Not embarrassment. It was the raw, vulnerable, completely open look of a woman who had been claimed and was terrified of being unclaimed.

"You will not leave me, right?" she whispered.