The Standup Boys' Close Call

"Like him?" smarmed the spider woman. "He is my third catch. And the first one I kept." One of her human hands found his separately wrapped penis and stroked it until it began to rise.

"You just... you just keep him there?" gasped Misty.

At the sound of her voice, the man began to writhe. With shocking vigor, he curled and convulsed, moaning desperately through the spider silk that wrapped him completely. Although she couldn't see his skin, Misty could see the cruelly tight silk stretching with his movements, the contours of his arms, his legs and his butt showing on his bending shape. But the silk did not give, and the spider woman never let go of his rod. Eventually, it began to squelch under her hands, and when she finally released it, it was two thumb-lengths long, sticking straight out from his groin. A few extra layers wrapped around the tip, giving it a bulb shape Misty had never seen before.

"He's one strong catch," said the monster girl. "He can last for hours before he goes limp." She licked her lips and eyed his wrapped cock, then made a dramatic show of looking away. "But he's old news. And old news bores me. Do you know what's new?" She crept up to Misty, her bottom two spider legs clacking on the floorboards. "Men. A whole clan of men down under, in the cave beneath the floor. No women in at all." The spider woman shuddered with excitement. "So much meat for the taking. We can take them together."

"Take them?"

The spider threw her head back and laughed, her hair jumping with every heave of her thin shoulders. "Yes! Take them! Go for a ride! Play 'hide the sausage!' Throw a man on his back! Make him a whore! Were you born yesterday?"

"Oh."

"Why hesitate? With you helping, it'll be easy."

'That's not why I'm here,' Misty wanted to say, then she suddenly remembered that it was. Painfully, she remembered telling the cat girl that she would find a man and take him. 'She'd laugh at me for not doing it,' thought Misty. 'She'd laugh at me, and she'd be right. And what's holding me back?' Curious or not, she was still a monster girl.

"Yes," she said, before she could stop herself. "I get to have him too, right?"

The spider woman laughed through closed lips. "But of course." She gave her captive human a backhanded push, and he moaned as he swung in the air, his erection still hanging out from his bound body. "Follow me." Bracing herself with her spider legs, the woman eased her human body down a hole in the floorboards, onto a catwalk that ran only four feet under the flat ceiling of the main room. "You can turn into mist, can you?" The spider woman tapped her legs thoughtfully. "We haven't had a girl who could do that since my grandmother was a virgin. Now, go through this pipe." She pointed to a round hole in the wall. "I'll meet you at the end. Find a man in the open, and if you cover his mouth, I'll tie him up."

"Right." To her own surprise, Misty felt the first tingling of excitement, what her sisters had always called the thrill of the hunt. Perhaps that had been her problem all along. Perhaps males simply hadn't excited her because there hadn't been a challenge.

Whatever purpose the humans had had in mind for this pipe, it made the perfect duct for Misty. In moments, she was at the other end of the pipe, in a dark, confined space but with male voices tantalizingly audible. As she materialized, she found herself ankle-deep in sandy water, in a gutter one woman-height deep that ran along a great subterranean room. Peeking over the edge of the gutter, she saw what looked almost like a party, with males jostling in a crowd surrounded by torches that filtered up into who-knew-where. Pillars held up the sagging, ancient ceiling.

At the end of the room, almost out of Misty's vision, a grey-haired man, wrinkly but strong-looking, belted out a speech.

"...these chains," he boomed, "are not around our hands and feet. They are in our hearts. Matriarchal society teaches us to restrain ourselves, to stop ourselves from asserting our freedom, to feel ashamed for wanting it, to punish ourselves for seeking it. But you are not here because women have treated you well! No, brothers, we are the refuse of Izaz, and if this city will not treat us with the respect that everyone, man or woman, deserves, then we will go out and take it ourselves! We need a new city! We need a new way of life!"

The crowd cheered, deep and blunt male voices blending together into a formless ruckus.

"Look for your prey," hissed the spider woman. Misty turned to see the spider woman next to her, having emerged from a burrow nearly invisible in the shadows. "If we can get him down here, there'll be no rescuing him."

"Did you know they did this?" said Misty. "They're outcasts! They're different, so they're alone except with each other... like me."

"Focus, girl. We're here for the prize, not the politics."

Misty focused. Dissolving into her dark, vaporous form, she floated up from the gutter, toward the back of the crowd. Men stamped their bare feet and cheered, or else listened raptly to the man who still ranted on the stone block.

Then a man fell back from the crowd, shoved by a careless elbow. His skin was dark, which Misty liked, and his short hair hung straight, which she also liked. At first, she thought he looked thin, then realized that he was not thin, but exceptionally tall, at least a hand-width taller than misty. He would indeed be a challenge.

He started to get up, rubbing the back of his head, and Misty made her choice. Checking that no one had seen him fall, she assumed her flesh-and-blood self and pounced on the man, straddling his chest and clamping her hand over his mouth. His blue eyes bulged, and his hands batted at her. He got a grip at the arm over her mouth, and his frightful human strength pulled at her.

That was as far as he got before spider legs seized his wrists, two others hooked under his armpits, and the spider woman dragged him into the gutter. Misty scrambled after, holding his head with a wild grip as she felt the fierce rush of danger.

As soon as the man was in the gutter, out of sight of the other men, he didn't stand a chance. The spider woman grappled him into submission, pinning him against the earthen wall. "Release him," she commanded, and when Misty took her hand away, the man had an eye-blink of time to scream before the spider woman kissed him, pressing his head against the back of the wall. With his arms pinioned helplessly under her spider-legs, the man could only twist his head, trying in vain to escape the kiss. When the spider woman finally released him, he tried to shout, but his lips would not open, sealed shut by a thick mesh of spider silk. He stopped, working his jaw to try to undo the bond, and his eyes glanced at the spider woman, then at Misty with the sudden hopelessness of trapped prey.

"Good boy," said the spider woman. "Now come with me."

With Misty's help, she wrestled the man into the burrow, then up a slope that climbed sharp, buried boulders. All the way, the man fought like a hellion, twisting in the many clawed legs that squeezed him, his legs kicking so fiercely that Misty gave up on trying to hold them shut. With every strike, his kilt lifted, and Misty saw a promising glimpse of his soft cock.

'Not soft for long,' she thought.

Finally, they dragged the man into a hollow the size of a small human hut, where a little blue mushroom grew from the wall, pink light emanating from under its thin cap.

Laying the man on the ground, the spider woman rolled a heavy rock in front of the entrance. "We'll have plenty of privacy in here, I think." She handed misty a knife. "Care to do the honors?"

Misty looked at the man. He fought to raise himself off the ground, but spider silk stuck him to the tangle of roots that made up the floor of the hollow, trapping him from his rear all the way to his shoulders. His arms flailed and grabbed at nothing, and his legs kicked at empty air. Misty approached him from the side, and as soon as his eyes found her knife, he went deathly still.

This man was a prize. Misty wanted to enjoy every part of him. She wanted to rip open his shirt and see what was underneath. She wanted to pull off that kilt and make that cock stand up for her. She wanted to squeeze him and sit on him and feel him all over her. But for reasons she did not understand, she did not start with his clothes. She brought the knife up to his lips and gently sliced open his gag.

"You bastard!" the man spat, as soon as she brought the knife away. "You're a monster! And someday, they'll gut you for this! Maybe not today, but someday..." He snarled through gritted teeth. "They'll make you pay for this."

Misty recoiled at the sight of his cute, thin face, so twisted with hate. She had taken a man once before back in the jungle, but that man had been a rebel, tight-lipped about his motives but eager to consent to her. Misty hadn't known men were capable of this kind of ferocity.

His intensity went cold, and he looked away miserably. "Just do it," he grunted. "Just do it and get it over with."

"I thought he'd never ask," murmured the spider woman, as her clawed spider legs neatly cut open his kilt.

Finally, Misty's lust caught hold of her again. Holding his cheeks in her palms, she bent down to kiss him. For a moment, it felt like kissing wet moss. Then suddenly, he came alive, his eyes bulging. He tried to gasp, but only sucked on Misty's lips.

Behind Misty, the spider woman had lowered herself onto the man, and she moaned thickly, rocking her hips on his. All six spider legs braced against the ground, she picked herself up and let herself fall on him, moaning to a slow, smooth rhythm.

Misty let his mouth go, and to her delight, the life was back in his face. His eyes were nearly shut, and he breathed heavily. As the spider woman gradually worked him harder, his chest puffed in and out underneath Misty's thighs. For a moment, she watched his face contort with the stress of sex, then when he seemed to gather himself, Misty scooted forward on him. "She gets your cock, so I get your face. Lick me! Make me feel good!"

Straddling his lips, she immediately felt his tongue flick against her womanhood, and a high-pitched moan escaped her. She could feel him lapping wildly at her, trying to finish her off as quickly as possible, and she squeezed his face with her hips, trying to wring more pleasure out of him like water from a towel.

He slowed down, and his tongue paused irresistibly on her pleasure spot. At the spur of the moment, she erupted. Her hands dug into the ground, and she screamed like an animal as heat and tension washed through her.

Finally, panting, she sat up, watching sweat drip from her body onto the man's. She stood, wobbled, then half-sat, half-fell on her rear beside him.

The spider woman gazed at her with the sort of discombobulated smile that told of her own orgasm. She still had the man inside her, but clearly, he was spent.

"Ugh..." he groaned.

"Done with him?" said the spider woman. "Good. I'll just wrap him up."

Misty opened her mouth to say that she was not finished, but already the spider woman had started her unsettling work, pinning the man's hands to his sides and wrapping around his sweaty, muscled waist.

"Help me!" the man screamed. "Damn it, someone help me! Don't let them-"

That was as far as he got before the spider woman laid one of her human hands of his mouth, silencing him. When her hand came away, his mouth was sealed shut again, and he could do nothing but groan.

And groan he did, kicking and thrashing as the spider woman's flawless movements transformed him from a bound, naked man into a bundle of squirming flesh.

Misty had done it. She had proven she was not only a woman, but a true monster girl. But at the same time, guilt settled over her like a sudden fever.

Looking down at the freshly mummified man, the spider woman licked her lips. "That went well. Went very well. We should do this again."

"Mm-mm." Misty shook her head as she picked at her fingernails, which were dirtied with peat. "That didn't feel right."

"Didn't feel right? You were having so much fun, you almost choked him!"

The reminder was not pleasant. "I know. I think forcing men isn't for me."

"It's not forcing, it's hunting. How else does a monster girl live?" She looked probingly at Misty. "Have you ever had a cock before? A nice, full cock to push into you?"

"No, just oral." She thought back to her first time. "And fingers."

"You have to try it." She dragged her prize further down the tunnel. "But not on this man. He's mine."

As she left, thoughts of that man's tongue still teased her mind, and her body burned to feel his strong, warm body between her legs. But she couldn't focus on that. All she could think was that that if she hadn't captured him, that man would be free, not a bound sex toy to be hung in the spider's lair.

Misty needed to talk. And she could think of only one person to talk to. Dissolving into mist, she retraced her path down into the gutter, up the pipe, then out onto the streets, into the early afternoon sunlight, then back to the house with Morn. If he had spoken before, then he would do it again.

To Misty's relief, the woman was not there, and after only a bit of exploring, she found Morn, leaning over a workbench, his head craned forward and his face blank.

Misty almost made herself flesh, then stopped. "The dress makes the woman," she had once heard a human say, and after seeing Izaz for the second time in her life, it occurred to her that humans only appeared with clothes on. She drifted up the stairs, planning to do the same.

With an eager flick of her fingers, Misty opened the polished wooden doors of the dresser, their bronze hinges making no noise at all. Dresses, kilts, capes, sashes and articles of human clothing that Misty did not know the words for all hung from wooden hooks, each one demanding that she try it on first.

She went for the blue dress. Wriggling herself into it, she let it settle on her chest and shoulders, finding that it pulled uncomfortably on her neck, but otherwise fit her. She cast about for a mirror.

She found something different. The black cat girl lay sprawled comfortably on the bed, grinning meanly up at Misty. As soon as their eyes met, the cat girl laughed, her whole limber body shaking on the soft mattress. "Prissy! Look at you, getting all prissy! Wearing clothes?" The cat girl rolled onto her back, still staring up at Misty. "What's next? Hm? Next, you going to marry the man? Live in a house and have sons? Why not start a farm too? Ha! A farm! Just watch out for the re-e-e-al monster girls, coming to ride your sons."

"Would you hush up!" snapped Misty. "What are you doing here?"

"Acting like a monster girl. And you?"

"It doesn't matter. Just leave." She turned toward the stairs, then received her second shock.

Morn stood frozen at the top of the stairs, listening intently. When Misty spotted him, he gave only the barest start.

The cat girl prowled around behind Misty. "Hmm, I thought I smelled something sexy," she purred.

"Get out!" Misty yelled at her, jabbing a hand at the window. "You're leaving if I have to grab a knife and fight you!"

The cat girl stood up straight, and for one moment Misty was terrified that she would accept her challenge, then the girl loped to the window and vaulted out of sight.

"That bitch!" Misty thundered, facing Morn. "I'm not a failure! I'm a real monster girl!"

"What are you doing back here?" the man asked.

For a moment, Misty waffled, not sure how to put her question into words. Finally, she asked, "do men want to be free?"

The man sighed. "Dearly."

"Are men afraid of us?"

"Of you monster girls? Of course!"

Misty's heart sank. "But all we do is ride you. It's what men are for."

"Misty, men are people. We want to marry who we love and have strong houses and see our legacy passed on."

Misty did not know the word 'legacy,' but she did not ask. "Do men just hate women? I found a whole group of men under the ground, talking about being free and living with no women at all."

Morn stiffened with horror.

"Is that what all men want? Do they want no women at all? Your wife and some other women were going to go raid those men and stop them. You humans-"

"They're what?"

Misty blinked cluelessly. "They... they know. The women know, and they're going to go capture the males."

Wide-eyed, Morn staggered up the rest of the stairs, stood against the opposite wall and sank to the floor. "They know," he said distantly. "The paladins know. My wife knows. They all know."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Misty, I'm a member. Those men who are trying escape Izaz? To leave behind this city? I am one of them. And if the paladins stop them, it'll be an uproar, and when my wife finds out that I was involved, she'll never forgive me." He sighed miserably. "She'll dismiss me. She'll leave me in the trash heaps where she found me."

"What are you going to do?"

He stood up in a panic. "What can I do? I'm a man! I can't go outside alone! I correspond with the others in secret, but if I leave a message, it'll never get there in time! I'm useless! All I can do is..." He stopped. He faced Misty for three intent seconds. Then he knelt on the floor and brought his hands up to the knots that tied the front of his shirt together. One by one, he undid them. His chest appeared a little at a time, flat and smooth, firm around the sides. Finally, he shook off the whole garment. "Warn them. Go find them, warn them of the danger they're in, make sure the paladins don't catch them, and I'll be yours."

"Mine?"

"Save those men, and you can take me anywhere and do whatever you want with me."

"You want to be mine. Like a husband." Misty's temper flared. "I'm not a human! I'm a monster girl! An animal!"

"Then take my offer. And claim your prize like an animal."

Doubt flooded her. "But you want me to get involved. Like a human. Why should I do that?"

"Y-"

"But women always hate monster girls. If I get in before those women... those paladins... I'll be like a monster, like I'm supposed to be."

"Supposed by who? By all the stars, Misty, forget all this talk about nature. Can't you see this is right?"

Misty stopped. 'right' hadn't occurred to her. But now that he had said it, she couldn't let it go. "I'll do it." She said. "I'll find the men. And I'll scare them off. Then I'll come back here. You'll see." She looked down. "I'll have to lose this dress."

Morn smirked. "It's just as well. You're wearing it backwards."

Misty did not know the way from this house directly to the place with all the men, but in the form of a mist cloud, it was simple to drift down the street to the house of paladins, where she heard shuffling and talking in serious voices, then from there to the hideout. As she floated, she kept sweeping her gaze behind her, expecting a horde of angry women to burst out at any moment. It did not.

In the main room of the building, with the dark but innocuous-looking garden, Misty heard slapping and moaning, and for one moment fear gripped her. 'I'm too late!' Then she materialized to sharpen her senses, and she realized the noise came from above, not below. The spider woman was enjoying her prize, and doing it with such reckless abandon that the noise carried down to the floor. Misty cringed.

Back in mist form, she slipped down the pipe the spider woman had shown her, into the basement gutter.

There, in the wet, clammy shade, she crouched and listened. The riotous noise of the man's speech was gone. Instead, male voices muttered, every bit as intent as the armored women. Peeking out from her cover, she saw a few dozen men, instead of the hundreds there had been before, bent over a table, drawing on a great stretch of paper big enough for a woman to lie down on.