Monster Breeder
155. Chill Vibes, Dank Mothra (Spindle, R-18)

Spoiler

Vaping, use of a hookah, psychoactive substance use

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A half-conscious young woman reclined in the web-bedding of the opened cocoon. She had four arms, two crossed over her soft tummy while the second pair caressed her collar and rested a chitinous fingertip at the corner of a soft-lipped mouth. Feathery antennae sprouted from fluffy dark-purple hair with fur of a paler hue like a ruff around her neck. Exoskeletal armor stretched from hands to elbows like evening gloves, from clawed toes to knees, along love handles and ribs (presumably wrapping around her spine) despite leaving her sex, belly, and nubile breasts vulnerable. Even more striking were the three jewel-like circular panes situated above her mound of venus, below her ribcage, and on her sternum displaying ever-bubbling droplets of dark viridian on a glowing green background as if they were windows on an ancient human ‘lava lamp’ (a rare example of the few fascinating inventions to have survived the post-apocalypse, powered by monsters with heat or electrical abilities for demonstrations in some circles). Two huge purple wings covered in Rorschach splotches and eyespots unfurled as Spindle freed her.

What a delectable treat of a woman!

The Wicked Weaver eagerly awaited for the new victim to slip and betray a sinister intent to grant her a reprieve from that cursed commandment. Spindle, meanwhile, appreciated the Mothra’s natural beauty and eagerly anticipated her reward at bringing this prize to Vermillion. Either outcome would be a joyous boon indeed! 

Opening the cocoon released a wave of dank, flavorful smells that reminded the Webling of Gabby’s medicinal supplies along with something a little more potent. The Mothra’s sleepy eyes fluttered open one after the other to regard Spindle with bemused mystification. A trail of vapor leaked constantly from the moth girl’s nose and a faint cloud billowed from her mouth when she spoke, “Oh, good morning~”

Spindle considered the green luminescence of the moth girl’s eyes with interest. She’d expected a toxic, neon green; something associated with poison. Instead, the color was a clean chartreuse that gave Spindle the distinct impression of muddled herbal concoctions rich with chlorophyll and potent medicinal properties.

“You killed Elmira, didn’t you?” the moth girl said before Spindle gathered her wits.

This oddly scented vapor… was it slowing her thoughts?

“True.” No point in denying it. “Does that displease you?”

The strange moth girl shrugged, slowly blinking lids that seemed weighed down and, indeed, Spindle marveled at the length of the moth girl’s lashes, “We had sex a few times. It wasn’t unpleasant.”

The Webling’s gaze fell upon several bite marks on the Mothra’s neck. Some were faded and others fresh. It seemed ‘Elmira’ had been feeding on this victim for the better part of a week. “Even if you were a few sessions away from being drained to death, Miss Moth?”

“Mmm. There are worse ways to go.” No dread in her expression. No fear.

Peering into those chartreuse, glowing eyes gave Spindle an impression, not of doom and gloom, but acceptance. As if nothing could be done to this moth girl that was outside expectations. That both good and bad occurrences were the way of the world; merely things to be endured or enjoyed as they came. What a curious individual.

“Indeed.” Spindle hesitated to act, marveling at the lounging Mothra’s lack of fear, tension, or urgency in the presence of an apex predator. “What, pray tell, is your name?”

The moth girl stretched in place, the movement doing lovely things to her abundant breasts and curves. “Care for a hit?”

“A ‘hit?’” Spindle asked for clarification of the apropos-of-nothing solicitation.

“You could drain me for a pick-me-up, oh Wicked One,” the Mothra tapped the bitemarks on her neck, “Or… Know what? Free sample.”

The Moth girl sat up, grabbed Spindle by the waist with her lower arms while throwing her upper arms around the spider’s neck, and pulled them together for a kiss.

The Wicked Weaver thrilled at the apparent attack; she purposefully hadn’t evaded the moth's attempt to deliver some type of poison or other mind-altering agent. Her victim had assuredly taken an act of aggression, perhaps meant to subdue, but the threat was enough to violate Vermillion’s edict and void that protection. Without the innocent eyes of the Sweet Bees upon her, the Wicked Weaver was free to enact any number of exquisite torments! How wonderful; the Mothra had unknowingly thrown their life away~

Then there was a sucking, burbling sound as the Mothra drew air through spiracles in the exoskeletal portion of her abdomen, passed the gas through some esoteric pathway of organs or chambers, and exhaled a large quantity of vapor directly into the Spindle's lungs.

She tasted the complex spiciness of black pepper, the herbal bouquet of rosemary, and a hint of citrus. As their lips pressed together, she found a fine bitter undertone like the flavor of hops that added depth to the affair as well as a sharp note reminiscent of pine with occasional peaks of tropical fruit in the background. In a word, the moth woman was delicious. Not so tantalizing to excite, but a savory balm. How pleasant; this was no poison. 

One breath. Forced into her chest by way of a kiss, no less, but the effect was immediate. Her pulse slowed. Her muscles relaxed. Her body felt warm as if she’d slipped into a hot bath. These sensations didn't frighten Spindle or seem dangerous. Everything about the experience was natural and soothing. A second breath, and this time Spindle sucked the sweet vapor from the moth girl’s mouth, and drawing it forth felt like blowing bubbles underwater, but somehow, amusingly, reversed. 

The world slowed.

A stiff breeze stirred the sand outside, carving lines on the dunes. Grass grew in Fuzzy Field, drawing strength from the soil and soaking in the sun’s glory. The mountains stood tall, never tiring. The ocean slept, containing multitudes, while the wind brushed her hair into cresting waves. The forest buzzed and crawled and thrummed with life sheltered by the canopy above. The Fuzzy Folk dug their holes, the Wolves ran, the Harpies flew, and the Goblins danced around their fires.

And it was all good. It was all... good. 

The Wicked Weaver’s vile chittering grew fuzzy and remote as if the demon were shoved into a box and the box stuffed with cotton. Spindle felt the walls of her sanity sting with the removal of the perpetrator, her cuts and scrapes and mental rents revealed in lines of burning pain as if doused in disinfectant. Hands cradling the Mothra's face so the insect-kin girl couldn't withdraw, couldn't escape in her hour of need, she took a third, desperate breath. Her chest ached with the pressure, sounds of muffled burbling filling her ears as a great blanket fell over all the screaming agony like a warm compress soaked in poultice.

Spindle had a semblance of quiet in her mind for the first time since Malik’s death. Her head swam but the pain, the pain was... gone. Arms gone slack, her hands fell from soft cheeks as she simply basked in the sheer peace of the moment. Tears spilled from all eight of her eyes as the moth girl pulled away to regard the Wicked spider.

The Mothra frowned. “That bad, huh?” Spindle could do nothing more than bask in the moment of emptiness while rainbow sparkles danced in the darkness. She exhaled a great cloud of purple-tinted smoke that tasted of licorice. “I thought you seemed in a bad way. Delilah, by the by. Can I have yours? Or were you, um, about to kill me?”

In the absence of her previously unnoticed chronic pain, the true depths of which she hadn’t properly fathomed until this very moment, a fabulously intense, impossible lust boiled up from Spindle’s core to fill her being to bursting. More than anything, she needed to take the girl who had done this and fuck her brains out. Her gaze fell on the winged woman still leaking exotic vapors with each breath, parted her lips in a subtle smile that revealed her hungry fangs, and said, “You may call her Spindle.”

Then her restraint broke, and she ravaged the poor moth.

Spindle shoved her lips against Delilah’s, hard. She thrust her tongue in the moth girl’s mouth while her hands wandered, cupping the shapely breasts of her lust’s desire, running her fingers along the smooth exoskeletal chitin of a curvy waist, squeezing a supple thigh, and grabbing a fistful of dark-purple hair. The moth girl was soft as butter and utterly yielding to her demands. Around them, the cave spun deliriously.

Lips parted, she looked down at her prey with eight eyes full of burning ardor. Fangs bared, Spindle struck. The Webling didn’t drain though, not yet, but injected her Jumper Aphrodisiac venom instead. Nor was she a total savage, kissing the Mothra’s throat to deliver the first bite, licking a nipple and suckling slightly before nibbling there for a second, then lowering herself to a succulent vulva to pour her fire into Delilah’s mons pubis.

The Moth girl flushed in a full-body blush. She clung to Spindle with desperation as a triple dose of what the Webling had once given Kobold lovers to spice things up coursed through her veins. Then the jewel-like crystalline bubbling portholes in Delilah’s chest and abdomen turned bright pink.

“Ahhhnnn~!” Drool spilled from Delilah’s upper and lower lips to dribble down her neck and thighs. “F-fffuck me! Please!” Green glowing eyes turned pink as the Moth girl flapped her wings for purchase, sitting up in the cocoon hammock and grabbing Spindle with four arms in turn so the two of them were a tangle of limbs and kisses.

Even in her inebriated state, Spindle didn’t dare take a deep breath of those pink-tinted fumes leaking from Delilah’s mouth and lacing every exhale—those plump lips already tasted of blisteringly-sweet bubblegum—or she’d never accomplish her mission for the day. They’d fuck the night away! And then who would take care of the Sweet Bees? That wouldn’t do.

So Spindle twisted and shifted into a sixty-nine position with her spider abdomen swinging over the Mothra’s head and curling down while everting her glowing purple ovipositor into Delilah’s face. The Moth girl got the message, slipping the glistening smooth member inside a hot, wet mouth. Chitinous insectoid claws gripped her waist where soft blue skin transitioned to her arachnoid lower half’s chitinous exoskeleton while a second pair of Delilah’s limbs began investigating the slick, sopping slit at her humanoid half’s base.

The Webling dipped her face to Delilah’s fragrant cunt and inhaled. Her lover’s pussy emanated the same herbal fragrance as before, the juices she licked from fluffy pubic hair tasting like citrus peels soaked in hops and sugar. Their breasts smooshed delightfully into each other’s tummies as lips touched groins, pressing their noses against their partner’s genitals—Delilah taking the spider girl’s cock to the base while Spindle sucked on the moth girl’s clit.

Spindle felt exploratory digits pry her nethers open, fingers rubbing her luminescent labial folds to spectacular effect before penetrating her core and curling to find a sensitive bundle of nerves. Sparkles exploded in Spindle’s peripheral vision as tingling warmth spread through her body. Add to that the waves of pleasure rolling from her shaft as a talented tongue lapped around her girth over and over.

She couldn’t get enough of Delilah’s flavor, savoring the feel of the moth girl’s pussy in her mouth as her fingers returned the favor. Spindle pumped three fingers in the girl’s honey tunnel with quick and powerful thrusts while her tongue flicked at a pea-sized clit. The spider girl’s abdomen automatically began fucking Delilah’s throat when the moth girl accepted Spindle’s length deeper.

In and out, Spindle pounded Delilah at both ends. She reveled in bliss, delighting in her new toy, or lover, rather, as this moth girl had ironically captivated the spider. They writhed together, skin on skin, enjoying one another’s curves and squishy bits with four hands apiece. Delilah squeezed her waist encouragingly and stroked her arachnoid abdomen. Spindle clutched the Moth girl’s ass cheeks while lapping at that wonderful womanly honeypot.

Delilah’s lips sealed tight around her shaft’s girth, forming a close proxy of a cunt to fuck, further driving Spindle wild with lust. Lewd slaps filled the air as Spindle slammed her abdomen against the moth girl’s face harder. At the same time, she redoubled her pace, finger-blasting Delilah’s pussy and circling the moth girl’s clit with her nimble tongue.

Her winged lover’s back arched and a spray of delectable juices doused Spindle’s hand, the squirt splashing to even shower her face. Delilah’s inner walls spasmed, firmly gripping her invasive digits while she clasped the moth girl around the middle with her second pair of arms to ride out the orgasmic storm of paroxysms.

Spindle withdrew her ovipositor from Delilah’s torturously blissful oral orifice, the cool air of the cavern wrenching a gasp from her throat. Her body was a live wire of sensitivity after being thus aroused without release. The glowing purple ovipositor throbbed with need, appearing swollen and veiny as Spindle suffered from the Webling equivalent of blue balls. Seeing this, Delilah took action to relieve her while unintentionally making things much worse.

The Mothra flipped them over, Spindle too overwhelmed to put up much struggle as Delilah peeled her wings from the cocoon and sticky surrounding web to flutter inches into the air before dropping herself onto the rudely protruding phallus.

“Fuuuck!” Spindle moaned as her cock penetrated the ultra-soft tunnel of moth pussy.

Delilah straddled the spider girl’s arachnoid abdomen and rolled her hips, churning her own insides using Spindle’s pulsating rod. Her upper pair of arms played with her breasts for Spindle’s visual pleasure while her lower arms reached for the raised mons below the Webling’s humanoid pelvis and the exposed, vulnerable cunt that lay there. Chitinous digits found Spindle's entrance, labial folds, and precious jewel, relentlessly teasing the spider girl.

Spindle's four arms stretched for any purchase they could find, the cocoon’s rim, the surrounding webbing, her own hair, her left breast to helplessly squeeze a nipple to further heighten her high. All eight eyes rolled up into her head as Delilah lewdly bounced on her cock. Wings lifted the moth girl into the air and dropped that plump pussy on her turgid member repeatedly for her increasing pleasure.

“Aaahhhnnn!!!” Delilah cried as she came again and showered Spindel in more of that delicious herby, citrus-sweet girlcum. The moth girl hunched over Spindle’s curled form, legs still twitching in orgasmic aftershocks, and she forced herself to continue when she noticed how close to finishing the spider girl was.

Spindle bit her lip, drawing a bead of blood with her fangs as Delilah’s ass hammered her girldick. Her body convulsed with powerful, wracking tremors in anticipation of a release that just wouldn’t come. “S-s-s-s,” Spindel tried.

The moth girl didn’t take the hint, though, pumping her pussy like a piston while staring into Spindle’s eyes with that hungry bubblegum-pink gaze. Delilah wanted this, wanted Spindel to paint her insides, to mark her like territory, to claim her Mothra cunt and make her the spider’s woman.

“Cum for me~”

Inner valves and clenching muscles fought for control over Spindle’s release, a vicelike clamp on her cum-channel spoiling another orgasm—but the potential energy remained bottled inside her to fuel a future eruption.

“Spindle… cannot,” she finally managed to gasp, “Though you feel… incredible on her. She is under demonic compulsion not to release her load anywhere that would cause harm beyond the scope of her allowances.” Spindle now reasoned Delilah’s ‘attack’ had been peaceful in nature, revising her earlier assessment to thusly not have violated the ‘obviously trying to kill us’ clause of Alex’s commandment. “Only Vermillion can…” her chest heaved for breath, and she gulped air before finishing, “Withstand the corruption.”

“Huh,” Delilah said, disappointed. “Don’t know who that is.” A smile curled the moth girl’s lips. “But I’ve got an idea. Tell me when you’re close.” With that, the devious Mothra resumed fucking herself on Spindle’s shaft.

She didn’t object, though how could she in this state? Even the clever and devilish Spindle couldn’t resist this siren song of sex. The heady bliss she was experiencing even before climax softened her will and made her pliable, vulnerable. Spindle never would have succumbed to a shyster or seductress. It took something genuine to lower her guard. She overflowed with lustful gratitude to the moth girl who gave her this gift of respite.

Not that the predator within her had fully recessed. The Webling couldn’t take it any longer, lunging forward with her highly flexible abdomen as the fulcrum to bury her face between Delilah’s huge, swaying fruit. Both pairs of her arms wrapped around the moth girl’s waist, hands clasping ass cheeks and landing on hips as Delilah petted her indigo pixie-cut hair. She twisted her head to latch onto a nipple that leaked nectar when she suckled. The taste was mellower than the Mothra’s other flavors, a gently spiced milk that soothed the heart as well as hunger.

Those massive moth wings beat the air, churning the rainbow sparkles that danced in Spindle’s distorted vision. Delilah arched her spine in Spindle’s grip and ground her crotch against the base of the spider girl’s ovipositor while the view inside the Mothra’s glowing, bubbling portholes became wild and tempestuous.

“Nnngh, ahhnnn!!!” Delilah bounced on the Webling’s cock until she came a third time in a shuddering climax, wings wafting the mixed, musky scents of sex into the air.

Spindle moaned as she rapidly reached the point of no return once again. “Almost c-cumming!”

Delilah wrenched herself free of Spindle’s spasming grip, rose into the air on flapping moth wings, the spider girl’s volcanically throbbing ovipositor shlorping free of the Mothra’s sopping cunt, and shoved the Webling’s head down. Spindle’s abdomen was quite flexible indeed, allowing the spider girl’s mouth, open in an ‘o’ of surprise, to envelope the ovipositor on the brink of climax in a velvety sheath.

That did it.

Spindle came explosively, violently, endlessly, spewing great gobs of effervescent purple cum to fill her mouth with licorice that spilled down her throat and gushed into her stomach. Her orgasm rocked the world, made her lose all sense of balance, and left her reeling and dizzy while blinding white blotted out the darkness of the cave. She floated in a balmy sea of contentment for a long time, lost but unafraid.

All the while, distant Sweet Bees chirruped in harmless play nearby, and a moth girl held Spindle while stroking her hair. “Shhh, shhh. First time tripping, huh? No worries, it’s all good. I’ll be right here till you come around.”