You make your way back to the mansion. Naked, wet, and clutching the ruined uniform, you try not to drip on the carpets. A brief stop let you drop off Ralla’s ink to Jordan, who set about to cooking it right away. “Now go get cleaned up, you’re dripping all over my kitchen.” she ordered. Jordan was always a bit huffy during the meal rushes, and she would have to be cooking for most of the time leading up to Mistress Carmen’s party.
Nobody even looked twice at the naked butler carrying his clothes through the mansion, save for a few of the servants who lamented over the fact that the floor would have to be mopped. Sure, the first few times that you walked the proverbial walk of shame you had been embarrassed. However, you quickly came to realize that you were far from the only one. Sure, as the Head Butler, there was more of a target painted on your back, a fact of which Cassandra would not let you forget. Still, it was often enough that you’d seen another butler trying to be as stealthy as he could while carrying the shredded remains of his clothes through the mansion to obtain a fresh uniform. Really, you were certain the monsters enjoyed the sight, even did it on purpose. A naked butler moving along and holding his ruined uniform was almost a badge of honor among the monsters. Hell, some of them even walked next to the men they’d ravaged, though you’d noticed lately that the butlers seemed to be striking back. More than once had the monster beside the man also been bearing the tatters that was once their uniform.
It was times like these you were glad that the standard protocol was to ignore the poor naked souls. Sex was a fact of life for monsters and those who lived with them, and everyone in the mansion seemed to be good sports. There were no laughs, no outward giggles at someone’s naked vulnerability. The most acknowledgment you would get is a few knowing stares and perhaps one or two monsters that decided to look longer than strictly necessary, enjoying the show of your nakedness.
You manage to make your way into Charlotte’s wing of the Mansion. Charolotte was the arachne in charge of the uniform distribution. There’s a line outside one of the rooms where butlers and maids go to get their uniforms changed out.
Normally the laundry is collected from the hampers inside of the rooms. After they’re washed, they’re inspected, and if they pass inspection, they go back to the room they came from, nice and pressed. Of course, accidents do happen, like when a sadistic bat shreds your pants. To that end, the service counter is always open to replace uniforms if you need them on the fly. The service counter is also open for alterations and other textile requirements, even for things that are not strictly Mansion business. Just another amenity available for workers at the Delacroix Mansion.
You stand in line for a short bit, chatting with some of the lower ranked staff. A voice cuts through the din like a fog rolling through. “Daaahling,” comes a familiar voice as you turn to see a figure hanging in a nearby doorway. “What ever are you doing here?” You smile at hold up your tattered clothes to the spider girl, “Just getting my uniform switched out, Florence.”
Florence was a colorful figure. Her spider chitin bore white hairs striped with black. She was often considered to be a small tarantula arachne, but prolonged discussion would inevitably reveal her to be an unusual breed, that is, a peacock spider. Her species possessed a kind of flap on her abdomen, and when lifted up in a display of excitement, revealed vibrant blue and red hues on a field of black in alluring patterns. Her hair was long, sleek waves of white and black, layered with the black on bottom and white on top. Her clothes were wisp-thin strands of what you were sure was spider silk, it hung about her body that left little, if anything, to the imagination.
In one hand she delicately held a black holder for the Melty Love cigarette in her hands. Florence said it was a trend in the Demonic Capital, those holders. Monsters would inhale the smoke from dried demon realm herbs for a mild taste of the effects normal incense would give. Melty Love was apparently the favorite flavor. She put the holder to her lips, licked the tip, and inhaled. She breathed the resulting smoke out in a heart-shaped cloud. “Dahling, someone of your stature should not be waiting in line like the rest.” she said before giving an airy sigh, “Really, what use is it being the Head Butler if you don’t get any perks with the job?” She beckoned you to over with a few waves of her hand. “Come, dahling, let us see what we can do for you.”
The spider girl led you off up the corridor. Florence was a fashion designer. Like most of the specialty staff the Delacroix Mansion hired, Florence was one of the best in her field. Having studied under the number three designer in last year’s runway debut, she was an up and coming name in the fashion business.
Demon Realm fashion was a rather… curious affair. You remember hearing that the best design came from a mind flayer, who said that the sexiest thing a monster girl could wear was her husband. This apparently beat out the first place runner up, which consisted not of clothes, but a stylized body paint across the model’s chest that spelled out the words: “Fuck Me”. It was about this time that you decided you really had no mind for high fashion.
You think about protesting, not really comfortable with being singled out and brought in for special treatment, but it does feel rather nice to be appreciated for your station instead of raped for it. Of course, being expedited to the front of the line would mean that you get your uniform fixed faster, and then you could go about getting the preparations ready for Mistress’ party. “Dahling, please. Let us take these…” Florence says once she leads you to a room deeper into Charlotte’s Wing. She puts the cigarette holder down on her desk, and takes your ripped clothes. You notice various sewing and design instruments strewn about the room, as well as various webs that seemed to be haphazardly constructed to hang things on. It was Florence’s workshop. You’d been in here once or twice before. It was the room where she, in her own words, “created”.
She holds the tatters she took from you up to the light in order to get an idea of what it used to be, then takes a needle and threads some silk into it. She worked fast, transforming the remains of your ruined uniform back into a serviceable garment of highest quality. You watched in amazement as the ripped edges vanished, and by the time she was done, you were unable to tell that the garment in her hands was previously the pitiful shreds of cloth you brought in. “Good as new!” she declares when she is finished.
“Wow… that’s amazing.” is all you can say as you reach out to grab the restored uniform. She holds up her hand to stop you before she sets the uniform down on her work table. “Ah ah ah, dahling. We haven’t discussed what you’re going to do for me in return, you can’t get something for nothing, you know~” the spider says, placing her bulk between you and your uniform.
You roll your eyes, “Florence, I’m really busy…” you protest. Why did every chore today seem to be such… well, a chore? She grinned and placed her hand on your chest. A slight, but firm push set you off-balance, and reeling backwards into a web. You struggle for a moment before you give up, you know its futile. You wouldn’t be able to break Florence’s web, and trying to would just tire you out and leave you at Florence’s mercy. Ah well, you think, she was right, after all. If not for her, you’d still be in line, not getting anything done. “Too busy to help a poor spider out?” she said, closing the distance between you. “Dahling, please. Don’t be cruel…” she says, trickles of sadness seeping into her voice. You weren’t convinced in the slightest by her little show. “I have lots of things to do…”
“Dahling, you aren’t the only one.” she says, putting her arms around you and hugging your bare chest to her gossamer white gown. “I have to design Miss Delacroix’s dress for her party, so do understand that you are not the only one with a timetable…” she said, her voice dipping in a hurt fashion. “Then do you really have time for this?” you counter. “Of course!” she declares. “One always has time for fashion!” Florence smiled. You raise an eyebrow, which was pretty much the only muscle you could move. “What does this have to do with fashion?”
“Everything, dahling!” Florence declared. “Do you know what the latest popular hairstyle is?” You did not, so you answer appropriately. Florence shook her head, “Look at my hair. Do you think this is fashionable?” she says, pulling at her locks of white and black hair. You open your mouth to answer but find yourself cut off.
“No of course not! The latest craze is wild, and frizzy! But not just any wild and frizzy, I’m talking ‘I just got fucked for three hours and brought to a screaming orgasm!’ kind of wild and frizzy! I need you to help me, dahling. Please.” Florence pouted at you, puffing her lower lip out pitifully. She looked at you with large, soulful blue eyes. “Do you really want me to have unfashionable hair?”
“I-I… don’t really have three hours.” you gulp. Florence’s pout sprang into a grin. “I know what you can do, dahling. I’m sure you can do what takes the common folk three hours in a matter of minutes~” she says, pressing herself against you as she hugged you close. Her modest breasts enveloped your vision, her gown would have probably smothered you if it weren’t thin enough that you could probably breathe through it if Florence’s breasts were not so endowed. Maybe it was her lavender perfume, maybe it was the residual Melty Love that you could smell on her, maybe it was the boobs pressed around your ears, or perhaps even the soft flesh grinding against your crotch, but you let out a defeated sigh. “All right, all right.” you say, muffled into her chest. “I guess I can spare a bit of time… in the name of fashion of course.” you declare as the spider moves off of you.
“Mahvelous!” Florence grins, removing her gossamer top. Her breasts heave with her breath, and you notice the perky nipples already standing on end under your gaze. “In the name of fashion, of course~” she says sultrily. You wiggle in her web for emphasis, “Uhh, mind getting me outta here?” you ask. She looks at you curiously, “Now why would I want to help a tasty little morsel like you OUT of the web?” It was against Florence’s nature as a spider to let anything out once it was caught. “Well,” you answer, “How can I help your hair get mussed and wild if my arms are stuck?” She muses this over, before relenting. “Oh, very well, dahling, I suppose I could make an exception.”
Florence moved over and helped you out of the web. Her grip was strong, and you came free of the sticky strands with ease. Of course, all she did was pull you right into her, and you felt her hands roam your bare back as she hugged you close. “Ahh,” she whispered into your year, “You smell so good~”
You give a modest laugh, “It’s just the cologne I wear for work.” you say, but you know that would have washed off in the lake. She keeps you held tight, your body pressed against hers, her arms around your waist and her head on your shoulders. “I don’t think so, dahling.” she says with a smile before tilting her head against yours. “You just have a good energy. Makes me want to eat you all up~”
Having the arachne hold your naked body so close to hers causes certain things to react naturally, and soon Florence was getting a poke around her abdomen. You feel her loosen her grip, but her hand shoots straight down before you get a chance to breathe. You feel the silk of her grey arm warmers wrap around your shaft. It’s a bit cool, but smooth and ever so soft. The fingers wrap lightly around your turgid member, caressing it with delicate affection. “Oh?” comes the voice of Florence, as if she was surprised to find what she did. “Getting excited now, dahling?” she cooed, “This couldn’t possibly be for me, now could it?”
The dancing of her fingers along your most delicate parts causes the breath to catch in your throat. “W-Well when you rub it like that…” you stammer, your mind concentrating on the little electric sensations the spider’s fingers send through your core as they continue their dance over every part of your throbbing cock. She rests the length of it in her palm, while her fingers curl around it, spreading the sensation of her soft, silken arm warmers all over your length. “Well why shouldn’t I rub it like this?” she said, giving a gentle squeeze as she drags her fingers down the length again. The pleasure catches you off-guard, causing you to contract a bit, your cock twitching in her palm “Aha, it seems to enjoy it when I do that~” coos the spider. “And what a magnificent heat coming off of it…” she says, wrapping her fingers around it once again. “I wonder…” she trails off, looking at your length in her hand. “…how it tastes…”
You notice Florence’s cheeks flush, her eyes going misty. She licks her lips and the spider girl sinks down in front of you, curling her spider legs under her. You have a quick flash of panic as you see her fangs glint in the light of the room, but Florence moves quick. You feel the velvet warmth of the spider girl’s mouth envelop you before you even have time to properly recover from her fingers. “Hmmmm~” she moans, the vibrations almost sending you into a frenzy. You stagger backward, back into the webbing, your knees going weak at her oral assault. The sticky strands catch you once again, though you manage to keep your arms free, grabbing onto her freely hanging locks. To her credit, Florence did not lose a beat. The spider skittered forward, keeping your cock firmly in her mouth as she continued to suckle on your head. She bobs her head up and down, dragging her tongue along the underside. Your feel your breath catch in your chest, running your fingers through her hair, which seemed almost as soft as her silk. She gives a few more bobs of her head before she comes off. “Ahaa, such a mahvelous taste~”
The silken fingers wrap themselves around your base again, her grip helping move your head around her lapping tongue as she savors the few drops of precum that bead on your tip. “Ahahn~” she moans, licking all around. You involuntary clutch at the strands of hair in your palm, almost pulling her further onto your cock, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She gives your head a quick kiss before standing up in front of you again. “Such a tasty little morsel.” she says, licking her lips. “You really must come by another time.” She looks at you with unrestrained lust in her eyes, “I’ll bind you up, and lick you for hours~” she said, sighing dreamily at the last word. “Even if you cum all over my tongue, I won’t stop.”
Florence was on top of you now, you felt her weight push you farther into the webbing as her body pressed against yours. Your cock twitched at the assault of flesh, and at the mental images she was putting in your head. You might actually take her up on that offer. “But for now…” she whispered into your ear before sinking onto your erect length.
Florence was already wet with anticipation, so you slid in easily into the slick, silken depths of the spider girl. Her warm tunnel welcomed you with firm, warm squeezes to every inch of length you offered her. “Hoh, fuuuck…” the spider girl whispered as she sank deeper and deeper until your hips met. Your cock bottomed out in her, and a flash of movement presented you with her peacock colors. “Ahn…” she said, a little embarrassed, but far too occupied with the cock currently occupying her to care. “It’s so… filling, ah~” she says, her arms wrapping around you again. She seemed to like resting her head on your shoulders. She stood there, quivering as you filled her, before whispering, “D-Don’t forget my hair…”
You nod, and pull at her locks. She gives a little scream of pleasure as your movement only served to pull her down and your cock put some pressure in her depths. You feel a bit guilty pulling on her hair like that, but you know she would just keep you there until she was satisfied her hair was right. So, you don’t relent. You use her hair almost like a leash, causing her to arc her back, her weight pressing you firmer into the webbing, which bounced back with equal tension. Soon, the spider girl was bouncing on your cock every time you trailed her hair through your fingers and gave a yard yank She moaned like a beast in heat as you pulled her again and again onto your member.
Your breathing came faster, and heavier as you started to tire, but by then, you were more machine than man. The building warmth in your groin demanded release, and you were determined to let everything out into that tight little spider hole. You grunt and pant as your pleasure builds, thrusting over and over into Florence, the sounds of your copulation filling the room. You revel in the sensations, determined that you were not the only one to be dealing with something sticky and white. You approach the edge, and give one firm yank on Florence’s hair while thrusting your hips up as far as the webbing would allow you to.
Florence’s orgasm washes over her, causing her to scream out so loud that you were certain the entire wing heard it, but it did not matter. The hot flesh inside of her milked your cock for all it was worth, and you feel yourself shoved headlong over the precipice into white hot bliss. You feel your cock twitch a few times in warning, which only serves to make Florence squirm under your attentions even more, before you feel yourself erupt. You hold Florence down by her hair, shooting your sticky seed as deep into the spider girl as you can muster.
Once your orgasm finishes washing over you, you give a few more tugs, causing Florence to bounce a bit more. “Ah-ah-ah!” she yells, “H-Hey, that’s sensitive!” she says before climbing off of you before you could abuse her post-orgasmic sensitivity any more. You laugh, crossing your arms and leaning back into the webbing. It was actually quite comfortable, once you got used to it.
Florence checked herself in the mirror, and seemed to be satisfied with the particular disarray you’d caused. “Mahvelous, dahling. Simply mahvelous. You do pristine work.” Even with your cum dripping out a bit, Florence held herself with poise and dignity. “Glad to be of service, Florence.” you say as she comes back to pull you from the webbing for the second time.
“We simply must do this again, dahling.” she says, before you feel another embrace of cool silk on your member. You jump a bit and look down to see Florence cleaning you with a spare silk cloth. “Oh, don’t mind me. Wouldn’t want you to get your fresh clothes all sticky, you know.” the spider girl says with a wink. “Do take care, now.”
She watches with interest as you put on your clothes, clearly enjoying the show. “You, too, Florence.” you say. “And who knows, maybe I will take you up on that offer.” Considering the amount of work that needed to be done and the rapidly decreasing hours in the day, you may just need something to unwind yourself after this party…
“I shall await your return with bated breath.” Florence said before you waved her off. You headed back down the corridor, to a few knowing stares from your fellow staff members. Of course, you couldn’t blame them, they still had to wait in line, and they clearly would have heard Florence’s vocalizations. Oh well, Florence was right. What good was being the Head Butler if there weren’t any perks with it?
You head down, out of the spider’s wing, and head down the main staircase. A party like Mistress was planning would take some good booze. That meant talking to the ones downstairs. You wondered if you would make it back upstairs before nightfall…