CHAPTER 5
NOVA
Sylvus scoops Andromeda into his arms, then his back legs touch his spinnerettes and he deftly weaves a small patch of silk.
It’s circular, about a foot in diameter, and the weave of silk is so complex, it sends light scattering into every color.
“This is an Arachnoid contract,” Zyren explains. “It will protect you and secure the intentions of our agreement.”
“So it’ll make sure you never rest?” I mean it as a joke.
Zyren’s answer is totally earnest. “Yes.”
I see an echo of my pain on his face, and I look away, focusing on the strange colors of the contract.
Sylvus hands it to Zyren, who offers it to me, draped over his hand. I press my palm against his, then gasp as a strange sensation enters my mind.
My eyes slide shut. Fragmented colors dance along my gaze, and something soft glides over my skin, like a rain of flower petals. A fresh, floral scent meets my nose, soothing and enticing.
I hear echoes of words that sound familiar, though I’m sure I’ve never heard them before. I try to remember them, but they slip out of my grasp, as if hovering on the tip of my tongue.
Time seems to shift and bend, giving the peculiar sensation of being totally frozen and yet rushing by in a torrent so intense that everything happens at once. It’s like the contract rifles through my mind, flipping through stacks of memories from both the past and the future.
Then suddenly it’s over. I blink my eyes open to find a shimmering band around my wrist, sparkling with the same colors as the contract.
A matching one adorns Zyren’s wrist, and the two bands glow in time with each other, then gradually fade.
Sylvus nods. “It’s done.”
He gently sets Andromeda on the couch, whispering something in her ear. She nods, then waves at me as we leave, but she seems sad to see Sylvus go.
The Arachnoid leads us to a larger chamber deeper in the house. Its purpose is immediately clear—one side of the room is dominated by tidily organized milking equipment. There are steel motors, polymer attachments, glass tanks and jars…
Zyren gently grabs my chin and pulls my gaze to his. “Don’t worry about all that. Just focus on me. Sylvus is going to secure you, then he’ll inject you with the venom that will begin your transformation. I’ll be at your side the whole time.”
My rational mind fights to stay in control, but I can’t help but trust Zyren. I nod.
“Time to remove your clothes. It’ll be more comfortable that way.”
“Jeez, buy a girl dinner first.” I joke to hide my nerves. It’s easier to strip my shirt and bra off and wiggle out of my shorts and thong when I remind myself that this is like a doctor’s visit.
If the doctors were super hot. And half bug.
When Sylvus holds out his arms for my naked body, Zyren’s first reaction is to pull me tighter to his chest. I curl instinctively into him.
Zyren takes a deep breath, then hands me over.
Sylvus’s movements are crisp, professional, and efficient as he holds me in the air and weaves silk around my body. It’s smooth and elastic, and not at all sticky.
Compressive bands spread the force from the cables that attach to the ceiling and walls, holding me in a reclined sitting position.
Soon, enough silk covers my body that I might as well be clothed again.
Zyren steps over, carefully maneuvering around the silk to stand at my side.
His hand rests on my chest, and the gesture is far more comforting than it should be, given that he’s practically a stranger.
Sylvus’s voice comes from over my shoulder. “You look like you want to deck me.”
There’s a quiet, restrained violence in Zyren’s eyes. “I do. But I won’t.”
“Thank you for that.”
Zyren takes one of my hands from where it’s pinned near my side and squeezes it. “The envenomation will begin momentarily. This part… will hurt.”
“Eh, how bad could it really b—”
Searing pain slices into my shoulder. It’s so swift and so severe, a whimper escapes me. Zyren squeezes my hand harder, then takes a deep breath. My body somehow synchronizes with his movements, matching his inhale and slow exhale.
The pain is manageable when I finish the breath, though it throbs in time with deep pulses—new injections of venom—as Sylvus chews on the base of my neck.
Zyren’s face fills my vision. “You’re doing so well, Nova. This is the fastest way that will hurt the least, I promise. Sylvus is very good at what he does.” Zyren’s voice grabs hold of me, providing the distraction I need to keep breathing.
Then Sylvus releases my shoulder, leaving only a dull ache behind.
“Thank you, Sylvus,” Zyren says curtly, a thinly veiled demand.
I hear nothing, but Sylvus must have left silently, because Zyren relaxes.
“Tell me how it feels, Nova.”
I can’t stand being asked how I feel. But this isn’t a question; it’s a command.
“It feels warm, and… it’s getting hotter.” It’s like I’ve slipped into a bathtub on the verge of being too hot, and my body can’t yet decide if the burning will settle into relief or be too much.
I force a deep breath, then another, willing it to relax into soothing heat.
My hope cracks out of its shell. Please. Please work. This could be what fixes everything.
The temperature veers hotter. My breath catches.
Zyren squeezes my hand.
“It’s fine,” I say out of the habitual need to comfort anyone who pities my pain. “I think in just a moment it will—”
Searing pain courses through my ribs, and I wince, unable to take more than a shallow breath.
No. Please, just be normal. Just work.
I cry out as sharp pain crackles through my body.
I feel every groan and click of my bones.
The bindings tighten around me as my body begins to expand, and it’s like there are sharp burrs between my skin and the silk.
Fire burns across my chest, balling tighter and hotter, sinking into my breasts. They swell and get heavier, and the pain intensifies. It’s like they’re full of broken glass. Every movement, every breath is excruciating.
This was a mistake.
A horrible, horrible mistake.
The pain has never been this bone-wrenching, this all-consuming.
My breath comes fast and shallow, and I can no longer control it, nor can I withhold the whimper of every exhale. Tears stream down my cheeks, blurring my vision.
“Make it stop,” I sob. “Please!”
Then my breath goes still.
The worst pain yet burns deep in my glute, searing and spreading.
I can’t breathe, I can’t see, I can’t think.
And then…
Oh.
Oh.
A warmth rises around me, gradually soothing every hurt. The sensation swirls in my breasts, tingling pleasantly.
When it hits my brain, a strange, lucid calm comes over me. I blink the haze out of my vision. I can process what’s happening around me again.
Zyren leans over me, looking worried.
But there’s nothing to worry about. Everything is fine.
Everything is… too fine. Wariness churns in the back of my mind, sluggish and quiet, as if muffled by a heavy blanket.
“Nova, can you hear me?”
The words take a long time to filter through my brain, but they get there. I want to nod, but my head feels so, so heavy…
“Yes,” I breathe.
“I had to sting you,” Zyren explains. “You’re responding much better to my venom than to Sylvus’s.”
Why didn’t he offer this before?
This is perfect. My body is totally numb, yet bright and alert. I haven’t felt this good since…
Oh no.
I muster my effort into a breath. “Am I… going to die?”
“No,” Zyren says firmly. “No. My venom cannot kill you. There will be side effects, but… you’re safe.”
“Am I still… transforming?”
“Yes. My venom will make it take longer, but the transformation will complete.”
As if cued by Zyren’s words, a throb of aching pleasure runs through my breasts—and my cunt.
It feels as good as Andromeda said.
I just want to stay here forever.
Another pang runs through me, and pleasure turns to urgent need. A slow, strained moan spills from my lips as my cunt aches for attention and my breasts swell.
Oh, oh fuck, I need to cum.
And I can’t do a goddamn thing about it. My hands are bound, and even if they weren’t, my body is strangely sluggish. I can hardly even clench my internal muscles.
“Please touch me,” I beg, rendered just as desperate by the pleasure as by the pain. For once, I don’t hate my neediness—that emotion, too, lies far away and quiet.
Zyren’s warm palm on my cheek feels divine. My breath shakes as his hands slide down my body, leaving sparks in their wake. The tingling heat slowly coalesces at my core.
I’ve never been so sensitive and so unable to do anything about it before.
Zyren massages my arms first, then my legs, working some strange magic in my calves and my feet.
I moan with pleasure, and my heat gathers with infuriating slowness.
His fingers deep in the muscles of my ass send me gasping. The silk pulls thin and snaps as my hips swell, softening and becoming plush under his grip.
When his hands slide around to my stomach, lightning arcs between my breasts and cunt, and I pant with overwhelm and need.
Zyren’s fingers rise to my chest, which is only half covered in silk at this point. I moan as a throb signals a wave of growth, then gasp at Zyren’s hands cupping my breasts. Tingling warmth explodes from his touch, sending me whimpering.
If only I could tense my inner muscles, I’m sure I would climax. Yet my body remains limp. The edge is right there, so close, but just out of reach.
Zyren’s fingers sink in, massaging. It feels incredible with my fullness and sensitivity. The heat pours straight to my cunt, fueling my desperation.
“Please,” I beg, my sense of decorum totally melted away. “Please, I need to cum.” I should be embarrassed, but lord knows I’ve done far worse with a stranger after a hit of some unknown drug.
“That’s the side effect,” Zyren says, keeping up his rhythmic kneading of my breasts. “It has a tendency to make people, what’s the technical term… overwhelmingly aroused? But it also makes it nearly impossible to climax.”
I whimper needily. “Oh, for fuck’s sake…”
“That’s to your benefit for now, though. During the transformation, your first climax will make you extremely sensitive. Any pressure in your breasts will be excruciating, and any milking will be intolerable. So it’s very, very important that you don’t orgasm until your first milking is done.”
This is some sort of sick, twisted joke. It’s the first time I can remember a total lack of pain since the cataclysm, yet it’s the most desperate I’ve ever been.
The heavier my breasts hang in Zyren’s grip, the more urgently I crave climax.
I’ve never felt so totally, completely, deeply good.
And I can’t stand another second.