Brand Nude Day (Patreon)

For once in his life, Peter Parker had no idea what to do. He usually had at least some notion of what a good man would do, what Uncle Ben would do, what the man he was trying to be would do. The responsible thing, the hard thing—anything but the quick and easy way out.

But all his options were hard and none seemed responsible. Just let Aunt May die? That was impossible, unthinkable. But he’d tried everything else, been willing to pay any price, and there’d been no takers. So what was he supposed to do? Fail her like he’d failed Ben?

He was trying to think if there was anyone he could try again, press harder on, when he walked through the door and out into nothing.

At first, he thought he’d made a wrong turn. It was the natural leap to make when a room was this different from anything he could’ve expected. Instead of any of the ratty surroundings of the safe house he’d been hiding out in with May and MJ, he was in what appeared to be an executive office. Instead of it being light outside, the windows revealed an expanse of night sky. 

Sitting behind the office’s desk was a woman who seemed equally impossible. From the waist down—he could see her legs between the desk’s drawers—she looked much as Felicia Hardy did, with skintight leather pants tucked into fur-lined boots, both’s tightness revealing in rapt detail the musculature and slenderness of her legs as they transitioned from the firm power of the calves to larger, more voluptuous thighs. 

But above the waist, above the desk, the black leather entirely disappeared save for two straps. Aside from that, her midriff was bare. The two straps tugged up her low-riding waistband, covering her navel, and were practically painted on her belly in a wide vee as they split to cover her breasts, growing from there into a half-top that covered her shoulders, her neck in a choker, and her arms in sleeves down to the wrists. How such an article of clothing could stay skintight all over her apparently perfect body was beyond him.

And her body was perfect. Even stripping naked couldn’t offer much more proof of that, as the leather was thin enough to be a second skin, a coat of paint. Her belly was flat and taut, the kind of stomach he knew Mary Jane dieted constantly to get, while her breasts were large, equally as impressive as Felicia’s titanic mammaries, about as large as a woman’s could be for her frame without becoming so outlandish as to be unarousing. Nipples the size of cherries jiggled at the end of each, seemingly about to knife through the covering leather at any moment. And the straps were not so censoring that they concealed the round patch of ruddy skin that circled each. That was how immodest her clothing was.

“Hello Mr. Parker,” she said. “Or should I call you Spider-Man?”

Now he placed her. Satana Hellstrom. She’d updated her wardrobe a little, changed her body to fit with the prevailing beauty standards—made her red hair the exact same shade as Mary Jane’s—but like most everyone else in the game, they’d met before. “What do you want, Satana?”

“My name’s Satana. What do you think? I want to offer you a deal.”

Peter gritted his teeth. He’d like to tell her to go to hell—not that that was saying much—but he’d just been thinking of how he’d take any rope that dangled before him. Aunt May was dying because of him. “What’re the terms?”

“Sit,” Satana instructed, and though there hadn’t been one before, now there was a chair before the desk.

Peter sat down, figuring it couldn’t hurt to assuage her a little. Maybe if he didn’t piss her off, he could come out of this with a deal he might almost live with. And maybe it was the stress of the past week, the relief of getting an olive branch (any olive branch) from the universe, but he found this woman… somewhat arousing.

“Your aunt lives. And you get your secret identity back.”

Peter chopped his hand through the air. “I don’t want that second part. Just May.”

“Consider it a bonus. In exchange, I want…”

Satana paused there, and to torment Peter further, she leaned forward at her desk to give him a good look at her creamy breasts. She never wore a bra. She found it gave her an added advantage when it came to dealing with men. They couldn’t stop thinking about fucking her long enough to realize she was fucking them over, in whatever deal they were negotiating.

Satana was very proud of her breast. She knew that they were absolutely splendid, and she did anything she could to flaunt them. Bigger than a mouthful, her tits were silky and full and capped with hard nipples that had made some men come just seeing them poking hard against the scandalously thin covering she gave them.

“Your marriage,” Satana concluded, now that she’d given Peter a hard-on. She looked again at the man sitting in front of her and almost laughed in his face. He hardly merited her attention. But she figured that, since she had him desperate in her clutches anyway, she could play it for all it was worth and have some fun at the same time.

Peter’s face twisted in befuddlement. “My marriage? What does some hell-beast care if I’m married or not? That makes no sense.”

“Not your marriage to Mary Jane, fool!” Satana hissed, her voice icy with scorn. “I want you to marry me. And, when you’re my husband, I’ll make all your problems go away. Like a good wife should.”

Peter was still massively confused, especially by how his arousal was only increasing. He folded his hands in front of his crotch to hide his erection, but the more he tried to keep it down, the harder it got. “What about Mary Jane?” he asked, his voice weak.

“You can’t be married to two people at once. I’m a demon, not a bigamist.”

Peter gulped. He couldn’t pretend anymore that his arousal was just one of those things. It was this woman. Something about her struck him sexually. She hadn’t reached her level of power without being domineering and heartless. He couldn’t keep his hard-on a secret from her much longer.

“You’ll be my husband in every respect!” Satana raged. She felt her tits began to rise and fall as she worked herself into a lather. It felt good. She knew her breasts were enticing the man, pulling him to her. “You’ll give me a child. And after that, for the nine months it grows inside me, you’ll continue to prove your devotion. You’ll use that magnificent cock of yours for that too.”

She took a deep breath, raising her shoulders, letting her breasts slip further out of their confining half-reveal. Almost all of their inner curves were clearly visible to Peter and she ran a hand down her warm, wanton cleavage. Advertising the feminine warmth she had to offer.

If only he were man enough to take it.

“I’ll give you a few other bonuses—to make it easy, doing my… oh-so-dirty work. A small price to pay for your aunt’s life, isn’t it? She’s your only family…”

Peter sat there, staring, his mouth gaping slightly. He fumblingly crossed his legs, trying vainly to hide his erection from her. She would have laughed at him, except she found her breath coming faster and her cunt beginning to burn. “No one gets hurt,” he said finally, “and nothing bad happens to MJ or Aunt May. As soon as the deal’s struck, you leave them out of this.”

“Of course. They’re not my type.” She backed up her chair slightly so that she could put her feet up on the edge of the desk. The act pulled her leather even tighter over her crotch, showing off the divide of her cameltoe to further torture her victim. Her trim leg, so tightly bound in leather that blood shouldn’t have been able to circulate, would have given a hard-on to a statue. 

Peter bit his lower lip. Then, suddenly, his phone rang. As if woken from a hypnotic trance, obeying its suggestions, he answered it. “Hello?”

The voice on the other end eagerly chattered away, but Peter clearly only heard the beginning of it. He slowly lowered the phone before finally snapping it shut, ending the call. “It’s my aunt. She woke up.”

“Now you know I’m good for my end of the deal.” Satana smiled with wicked fangs. “I can always undo it if our arrangement falls through.”

Aunt May was no longer a malingering old body in a bed. Now she was awake. Now she was alive. And Satana had her nephew. “What would I have to do—to strike the deal?”

“Like I said. Prove your devotion.” She noticed his furtive glances toward her high-heeled boot. She stretched her leg out, thrusting her foot toward him. “Show me how you don’t even consider yourself good enough to lick my boot.”

He got the message, turning white. But he dropped to his knees. A cruel smirk appeared on Satana’s face as he took her foot in his hand. He didn’t want to do this, but he didn’t want to lose his aunt either. Which meant he needed to do this. Screw being wanted; Satana got off on being needed.

She thrust her foot toward his face. He gulped and started licking the soft leather uppers of her tight boot. She immediately jerked it from his grasp and snarled, “Not the top, you idiot! The sole! I want you to lick the sole of my boot!”

He swallowed hard again and went back to his degrading task. Dispelling the desk from between them, Satana put her other foot on his shoulder and leaned back. Her legs spread slightly. She gave him a look at just how tight the leather over her sex had gotten. He licked faster, cleaning the sole of her right boot as if it were covered in some delicious chocolate.

Satana almost laughed out loud then, but that would’ve broken the mood. She enjoyed this, Men were such bastards that it always felt good to get the upper hand on one of them. They had nothing on their minds but sex, sex, sex. That was all they thought of when they looked at a woman.

Well, let them. She would show them. She would let them fuck as much as they wanted. Just on her terms. And she would enjoy it far more than they ever would.

She turned her attention back to the man at her feet. She took her left foot off his shoulder and presented it to him. “This one’s gotten dirty too.”

She wiped the sole of her right shoe on his shirt while he licked away, his tongue working like a scrub brush. The woman carefully allowed him another look between her thighs, opening her legs again. It was clear to him by now that she wore no panties.

“How far will you go to prove your devotion?” she asked.

“Anything!” he answered, immediately regretting it. This was a cold-hearted witch that would stop at nothing to get what she wanted; and she was the only hope he had.

“Kiss my ass,” she commanded. Satana stood, turning around, and now he saw that her leather suit was bottomless. It ended below the buttocks, like a pair of stockings, with the straps in front holding it over her pussy. Garters outlined her gleaming white ass like a pair of chaps. 

“W-what?” Peter asked. Even after all these years of marriage to MJ, his relationships with Gwen and Felicia, he was not used to being so openly, so forcefully propositioned.

“Kiss my ass, you piece of shit moron! Kiss it!” And she felt his trembling fingers stroking the trim curves of her buttocks. His feverish fingers started to pry apart her tightly clenched cheeks, but a quick twitch stopped that. She didn’t want his fingers on her ass. She wanted his lips kissing her. “Come on, Peter. I know you want to. Do what you want to or I’ll do what I want to…”

This time he instantly obeyed. She laughed aloud, feeling a great surge of power. There was nothing like having a man so totally under her thumb. He would do anything, anything at all, to please her now. She loved the feeling of complete dominance. 

He kissed her ass again before she turned around to face him. The look on his face showed both fear and desire. She knew she had him firmly on the hook and wasn’t going to let him go. Not without getting everything she wanted from him.

“Pull my leather down with your teeth and lick my cunt. I want you to taste a real woman’s pussy.”

Even his teeth seemed to tremble. He inched forward and gripped her ass, but she batted his hands away. Peter got the message. Only his teeth were to touch her clothing, and only his lips and tongue could caress her flesh. Anything else was not allowed, by order of Satana Hellstrom.

She felt his hot breath breaking against her belly in short spurts. The heated air radiated into the tangled wire of her pussy and made her sigh. This was more exciting than anything she had done in a long time. Bad boys were fun, but good boys gone bad were entertaining. Knowing she could make this once proud, once good man do anything she wanted sent sparks of carnal desire shooting through her.

He bit into the waistband of her leather stockings, between the two straps, and pulled them down. Making it easy on him, the straps stretched elastically, allowing him to pull the leather down over the flaring curves of her pubis. She was ready for him.

Satana’s legs drifted apart to allow him to bury his face in her pussy. She moaned softly as his tongue ran up and down the length of her slit. A man’s mouth working against her pussy was nice, but having him do it when he would have preferred to be pleasuring his own woman made it all the more thrilling for Satana. She was in complete control of him. Her every wish was literally his command!

“Faster! Lick my cunt faster!”

His rough tongue moved between her pussy lips and probed up into her sex. She spread her legs apart just far enough to allow him to really get his tongue into her. Let him strain a while. She enjoyed this, not caring how difficult it was for him. All that mattered was how hot she felt.

Her cunt boiled inside. She summoned her desk back behind her and propped her ass on it, letting Peter’s tongue ream her out. He moved it back and forth in her pussy with some authority, so she felt it time to remind him of his place.

“Not there, you fucking idiot! Are you more used to sucking cock than eating a woman out? What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing!” Peter cried. “Just tell me w-what you want!”

“Your belt.”

“I don’t understand!” His cock was pressing against his pants obscenely now. He wanted nothing more than to whip it out and stand up, stuffing it into the cunt that was spread so invitingly before his face. But he couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t let him fuck her. She would only allow him to eat pussy. Only allow him to obey her every fucking command.

“Give me your goddamn belt! Don’t you understand even the simplest orders!?”

Peter pulled his broad black belt out of his pants and held it up to her, wondering what she intended to do with it. He found out in a hurry.

The first blow was light. She wanted to get the feel of the belt before she really used it on him. “Get back to licking my pussy! Now, dipshit, now!” 

She used the belt with more authority after that, like a whip. It landed with a stinging slap across his shoulders. As he went back to work with his tongue, she applied the belt with more and more gusto to his muscular back.

Watching him cringe was only part of the thrill for Satana. She felt her pussy churn every time the belt bit into his flesh. His tongue worked with greater speed after every whipping. He even worked up and down her pussy lips so that she felt warmth growing inside.

The electric tension mounting in her body would erupt into orgasm if he kept up his tonguing long enough. She continued to whip him, moving her blows down to reach his ass. The man’s buttocks rocked every time she landed a hard enough blow, ugly red marks and even bruises appearing under her lashes.

The idea that she was so completely in control as to be able to harm him with impunity excited Satana even more than the tongue-fucking she was getting. His skilled, quick tongue reamed her out deeply enough to excite her, but nothing made her gasp and moan in pleasure like the knowledge of her supremacy. She could dominate any man.

She whipped Peter harder, screaming “Use your goddamn tongue on my clit, you utter idiot! Haven’t you ever had a woman before? Is Mary Jane a frigid bitch who never lets you touch her? Or have you had any lovers at all? Do you beat your meat while only imagining hot sluts like her naked? I bet you can’t even get a real woman to look at you, you son of a bitch!”

His tongue exploded in a wild frenzy of licking. Then he moved so that he could apply his mouth to her clit and suck. When he did, it was like heaven to her. She had become more and more horny sitting behind her huge desk, teasing him, weakening him, doing all the things a high-powered executive had to do to broker a deal. Now she had him. Now she would be satisfied.

“Take it! Take my cunt! I know it tastes good!” She beat him with his belt until she knew his back must’ve looked like a slab of meat. It didn’t matter anymore. All she cared about was the wondrous way he applied his mouth to her sex and tongued inside her. Her blood-engorged labia pulsed mightily now.

His tongue lightly flicked across her clit. The tiny bud had finally poked its sensitive head up. He dashed around her clit a few times, then stroked with feathery touches all the way to the tip. That set off her orgasm.

Her climax rocked her hard and she couldn’t keep from shrieking. Satana vaguely worried that her secretary, Josef Stalin, might look in and see what was going on, but it didn’t really matter. She didn’t care who saw Peter eat her out as long as he ate her out.

Satana shivered and moaned louder. “My poor little clit! Return the favor! Give it a good lashing!” As she mouthed the last word, she renewed her beating with the harsh leather belt. Whipping him stoked her own passions. The feel of his tongue all over her pussy was nice, but the muscular exertion of beating him with his belt really set her off. She came several times in quick succession.

She would’ve staggered and fallen if it hadn’t been for the desk pressing into her ass. She perched herself on it and spread her legs a bit wider. It truly opened her up to him, like a flower blooming, and made the sensation of Peter licking and kissing her sex even more intense. Satana came again. This time she couldn’t keep beating him with the belt. Her control was shot to hell by the power and suddenness of her climax.

Satana realized he was getting the upper hand on her. As long as he thought his tongue was more powerful than her self-restraint, he’d be impossible to break. He might even learn to ignore the pain she inflicted with her broad leather strap.

She couldn’t tolerate the thought. He had to feel that he was nothing, that he was all but useless to her! No matter how good his tongue felt as it licked at her cunt. When his hot breath made the fleecy fur of her pubis stir, it pushed her passions almost to the breaking point. And the light caresses and kisses of his soft lips against her throbbing clitoris would send her into a sexual high again and again. She had to put a stop to this at once.

Lifting her foot, she kicked him away from her. The cool air of the air-conditioned room rushed in to blow against her super-heated pussy. She shivered from the sudden chill and momentarily wondered if she’d done the right thing. His mouth had felt so good…

Too damned good. She was beginning to forget that she was the one in control. She couldn’t permit him even the slightest possibility that he could dominate their sex games. Sex was her weapon; no one else’s.

“You disgust me. You’re not good even when it comes to something as simple as eating pussy. Maybe you can jerk off. That should be within your meager talents.”

She laughed at his shocked expression. He had her arousal dripping from her chin, proof of how aroused he’d made her, but his shocked look was even more precious to her.

She commanded, Peter obeyed. That was the way she wanted it and that was the way she got it. He stood up. His knees were as shaky as hers felt. He looked down at his thickly bulging prick and asked in disbelief, “You want me to beat off?”

“Yes, yes!” she said impatiently. “Do it, now!”

Peter rushed to take out his prick. He had felt his cock tenting his pants ever since Satana had begun to taunt him with her body. Now he finally pulled his cock out, holding it firmly in his hand. 

For a moment, he thought she might come over, take his prick into her mouth, and enjoy it herself. Instead, Satana turned and moved the thick leather belt so that it went between her legs. He watched as she began to move the belt, pulling it across her sex. The black leather was soon coated with her juices.

“Damn it, jerk off!” she screamed.

Peter’s hand started moving up and down his cock. Satana licked her lips as she watched. His cock wasn’t the tiny one she’d imagined this mouse of a man might have. It was a good eight inches long, the thick head at the end pulsing visibly above his hand. Satana felt her arousal returning, speeding up her heartbeat.

The veins on his manhood pulsated. The big vein on top appeared ready to burst as he moved his hand faster and faster. The expression on his face was one that Satana would cherish for a long, long time. He was as confused, scared, and horny as she’d ever made someone.

Satana moved the belt between her legs with greater authority now. It felt great whispering against her labia. The juices seeping from her cunt made it slippery. The friction of it against her flesh warmed her sex. She found just the right angle to draw it over her mound so that it rubbed and stimulated her clit.

Every trip back and forth made her gasp in joy. She got off on this more than she had thought. The sight of Peter’s hard, thick member jerking around in front of his body was delightful enough, but knowing she’d forced him to beat off was wonderful.

“Faster!” she yelled. “I want to see that ugly cock of yours spurting right now!”

He moved his hand faster. Satana quickened the pace by pulling the belt back and forth across her sex even faster. It was almost as though he were fucking her with a cock ten feet long. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the wonderful sensations in her body.

The smooth black leather rubbing all over her labia made her tremble with excitement. The sight of his cock bulging so big and hard in Peter’s hand did something to her that she couldn’t define. She loved her dominance of the entire situation. She had power, real power, and she enjoyed using it.

She gulped and moaned as she came again. The woman pushed a strand of blood-red hair from her eyes and focused on the man’s prick. It was about to erupt! Satana stroked the belt back and forth over her cunt a few more times to get the maximum sensation out of it. Then she stopped.

“You wanna fuck me? This is your only chance! Put it in me now! Come inside me! Get me pregnant!”

Peter barely seemed to hear her, except as a dog heard its name called by an owner. Crazed with lust and adrenaline, he threw himself on top of her, battering her down atop the desk and mounting her, thrusting inside her, a sudden rush of pleasure making Satana cry out as he entered her, then scream as he kept fucking her, harder and harder, faster and faster, on and on and on. It could’ve been for minutes or it could’ve been for hours, but she knew she came. She came hard, and more than once.

Then he was coming, shooting inside her, and it went on for almost a minute, his hot seed filling her and overflowing her and running down her inner thighs as he vented all the lust she’d known he was capable of. He hoarsely moaned as he emptied himself into her, almost a howl, but Satana barely heard him, the blood was pounding in her temples so hard, like the echoes of his thrusts inside her, impossibly loud and yet so deep inside her she felt it more than heard it. And she felt his cock throb with each ejaculation that passed through it. She got off on it. She got off on how much he came inside her.

“Finally…” Satana croaked as he panted over her, every inch that he weakly pulled from her dislodging scads of his semen from her impossibly crammed sex. “Finally you figure out how to fuck me. The deal’s done. Come back when you have more cum for me.”

Peter turned and stormed out, doing up his pants on the way. Satana smiled as he left. She laid back on her desk and put her feet up, smiling lazily as she stroked her wet cunt.

So far, she was really enjoying married life.