“Is she serious?” Mary Jane demanded, looking over her shoulder back at Peter, with his gigantic erection looming over Felicia’s face, looking so big that it was hard to imagine Felicia could mouth it—let alone introduce it to Mary Jane’s tiny, almost virginal asshole. “I don’t know what you get up to, Hardy, but my ass has only taken a finger now and then, not bowling pins!”

Felicia smirked back at her. “If you can’t handle it, I’d be happy to. I’d love being Peter’s anal whore…”

“I bet you would,” Mary Jane snarled.

Peter patted MJ’s ass. “Relax, honey. Why don’t you show her what a good girl taking orders looks like?”

“But I’m not a—” Mary Jane began, but she trailed off as Peter interrupted.

“Tonight you are,” he told her, and Mary Jane understood how foolish she’d been, thinking Peter could be the sweet, gentle lover she’d come to know while also being the brutal, dominating master he was with Felicia. With him sandwiched between both of them, he’d have to be one or the other. And tonight, he wasn’t gonna be gentle.

She fixed her gaze on Felicia. If that slut could enjoy it, so could she. “I can take anything the kitty can manage.”

“I know you can,” Peter assured her, giving her hip a gentle caress that told Mary Jane her soft lover wasn’t so far away as all that. “You’ll enjoy this, MJ, I promise you. But first, let me lube up.”

Then, taking Felicia in a grip that held her jaw and her forehead very tight, very still, Peter forced himself into her open mouth.

***

Peter fed himself deeper and deeper into Felicia’s maw. At first, she fellated him, eyes bright with the happiness of being used, tongue skating along the heft of his phallus, lips working at his girth as it pushed steadily into her mouth. But soon, the sheer mass of the intrusion made her skill irrelevant. His bulk crowded out her tongue. His cockhead probed into her throat, far beyond where she had any conscious control. Felicia managed to relax her throat, but that was all she could do. That and gag, gurgle, making sputtering noises of protest as Peter kept giving her moth and more to hold between her lips. He didn’t stop until she had taken all of his length, whether or not she could handle it. Then Peter took his right hand off her chin—there was no point when his steely erection held her mouth open—and instead pinched her nostrils shut.

Overwhelmed as she was by how deeply he was fucking her throat, it wasn’t until then that Felicia realized how dominated she was. It was impossible for her to breathe through her stuffed mouth. Peter wouldn’t allow her to breathe through her nose. She was gagging on his member and no fresh air was coming in to replace that which she was choking on. Felicia slobbered mindlessly on his cock; Peter held her to his loins and ground himself into her, gouging his stiff prick into her throat and her palate, what felt like every square inch of her esophagus, thoroughly coating it with her saliva.

Felicia grew pale. Her eyes rolled up in her head. But before they did, Peter saw how she looked at him—a fearful thrill in her eyes, as when she got a spank or a slap from his gloved hand, a tightening of a webbed collar during their kinky sex. But that was just for fun. Now she saw how truly far his power over her extended. And Peter saw that it excited her.

No wonder she’d been so obsessed with him all these years. It wasn’t simply that he was the one piece of loot that the cat burglar could never quite score. With his power, his strength of will, his force of personality, he was a challenge. A rival. And now, he was doing more than sparring with her. He’d taken ownership of her.

It was like a paradox. She finally had him, but Peter retained the qualities that had drawn her to him. His coolness to her, how withholding he was. He still defied even while she somehow got what she’d all the time wanted. No wonder Felicia looked as turned on as a bitch in heat.

Peter knew now this was truly what she wanted, what would make her happy. He once hadn’t known if he had it in him to actually dominate someone, no matter how eager a victim they were, but seeing Felicia’s excitement… For her, he would just have to be the dominant she had all the time wanted.

As she started to turn blue, Peter both stopped pinching her nose and drew his cock out of her mouth. She gasped in air, but her eyes shot straight up to his. Now there was real fright in them. She was worried he was no longer accepting her submission and that turned quickly to sweltering bitterness; he would have to make sure she got enough discipline not to lash out when she was deprived of her drug of choice.

“What are you?” Peter asked her, his crisp tone of command hitting Felicia’s fuming body like a slap across the face.

Felicia actually purred under her breath, her excitement at its zenith, sharp enough to cut. “Cock-holster,” she announced proudly, licking her lips to better embody her role.

“Whose?”

“Yours. Your cock-holster. Your anything.” Then Felicia broke off into giggling disbelief, surely unable to comprehend why her body was so electric as she said those words.

“Watch how to be a good girl,” Peter told her, and as if without a second wondered to her, he turned to Mary Jane with his properly lubricated manhood and rubbed the smooth, dripping helmet against the redhead’s anus. Her heat almost made him come.

“Peter, maybe we should talk about this—” Mary Jane began. She’d seen what he’d just done to Felicia and was not at all sure she’d get off on it, no matter her own sultry display of confidence.

But the time for talk was through. It had taken all Peter’s will to pull himself out of Felicia’s roiling throat. He could not keep away from MJ’s virgin ass.

“AAAAAAHHHHH!” Mary Jane screamed deliriously. “Shit, shit—it hurts! You’re killing me!”

She tried unthinkingly to pull away, but he was already too deep, throbbing too hard inside her for them to be easily separated. As difficult as it was for Peter to force his way in, it was just as hard for him to slide out. Not that Peter was chancing it. He held Felicia tightly by the waist and drove in more of himself to that exquisite tightness inside her.

Felicia grinned excitedly, not sure if she was envious of MJ or relishing her pain. Of course it hurt. It was supposed to hurt—that was the fun part. Then there was the orgasm: that was the really fun part. And watching wasn’t half-bad either. She saw Peter’s cock moving inexorably into Mary Jane’s separating buttocks, bringing their two perfect bodies together until MJ could clearly barely even think through the pain.

“Push back!” Peter ordered. “Give me that ass, you hot little bitch!”

Mary Jane did, because everything was agony and at least doing as she was told was something to do. She opened her ass the final inch and stretched her quivering sphincter wider until she wondered she’d die. Peter’s vicious cock pressed into the confines of her anal passage until his balls were pulsing against the wetness of her upturned slot. Then, cooing with delight, he began to pitch back and forth, making Mary Jane relive that painful initial entry in rhythmic throbs.

Only there was less pain, and then even less pain. Something else was filling Mary Jane now that she’d been expanded enough to take it.

But Mary Jane could hardly focus on that when suddenly Felicia was sitting in front of her face, legs aside, white-tufted cunt on display. “Since Peter’s kinda busy at the moment, how about a little thanks for that great job I did lubing you two up?”

Mary Jane was hardly feeling charitable at the moment. “Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”

Felicia grew a Cheshire-cat grin. “What’s the point of being a sex slave if you have to do that? Peter, tell your wife she has to eat me out!”

Peter never would’ve believed it, but he was having a hard time paying attention to Felicia. He knelt above Mary Jane’s thick ass, seeing the reddened skin of her asshole pucker in and bloom out with the motion of his shaft, grasping him as if it didn’t want his prick to leave. The pressure was almost as unbearable as it’d been when he’d first entered her, but now he was growing used to the warmth and tightness of anal sex—a heated, liquid pressure which now seemed designed to succor his cum from his testicles, drawing it out with the inevitability of a sucking whirlpool.

“Spider—!” Felicia whined. Mary Jane wasn’t much of a nag, but Felicia had already managed to discover the shrill note to hit with her voice. Peter supposed relationships held certain constants no matter what. “You said if I ate Mary Jane’s ass, you’d fuck me! Now your wife won’t even fuck me! It’s not fair!”

Peter thrust forward again, hearing a howl of pain torn from Mary Jane’s gaping mouth. Then, just as fervently, her moaning “Yes, yes!” under her breath. His prick sung with electricity. He would come soon and when he did, he’d feel his cum surging into Mary Jane’s beautiful ass, knowing it was his forever. His and Felicia’s. They’d all belong to each other and both these beauties, these wonderful women he loved so much, would be his.

“Maybe I should just leave if I can’t get laid here!” Felicia grumbled, though the fact that her hand had descended between her legs, fingers touching herself as she avidly watched the sodomy, belied her threat.

And if she did follow through, Peter could all the time web her in place. She’d probably enjoy it as much as when he throated her.

But then, there were other things she might enjoy more.

A. Order Mary Jane to eat Felicia out.

B. Web Felicia in place.

C. Peter eats Felicia out himself.