Milking him dry⊠in a different way
MDNI Peter Parker BND x reader!
- inspired by that one fanart
- hands free orgasm (technically), overstimulation (technically), dry orgasm (maybe?), slightttt noncon, slightt sadism, sub!Peter, cumming in pants (or suit), Peter cries, a little praise, mean reader
Peter was laying on your bed, his mask removed, but otherwise still completely clad in his Spider-Man suit. He looked up at you with brown eyes pooled with desire, but also filled with weariness. He must have taken in your mischievous expression.
You, clad in an old oversized tshirt of his and a pair of panties, were feeling mischievous tonight. Peter had told you about the changes happening to his body, the way webs would shoot out against his control, and you were eager to see it for yourself.
Peter glanced around the room nervously, his lips turning down to form a pout, as if he could predict your next move. Lucky for you, his spidey senses didnât seem to be keen enough for that, or you werenât sure heâd still be laying here willingly. Though the tent in his pants was proof enough heâd let his girlfriend try anything with him.
You leaned in, watching his pretty eyes flutter closed and his lips part, clearly expecting you to kiss him. A kinda evil smirk graces your own mouth. Much to his dismay, at the last second you avoid his face entirely and instead focus your attention on his left arm.
Peter exhales in disappointment. He opens his eyes to glance at you sideways. âD-donât tease me like thatâŠâ his voice is breathy, anticipation beginning to make his body squirm a bit underneath you.
You ignore his whining, carefully moving his arm to extend straight out, 90 degrees from his body. You slowly slide his sleeve down just a bit, as well as riding his glove up a fraction, to expose a few inches of his wrist.
Your intentions click in Peterâs head immediately. He whips his head to the side to look at you, nerves twisting his features. â..w-wait what are d-doing?â
You lightly place your pointer finger over his plush lips to quiet him. âShh.. I just wanna try something.â You purr sweetly.
âI-I donât know.. itâs weird and I donât understand it yet and I dââ he begins nervously blabbering, but before he can finish you give the lightest swipe over the barely visible slit in his wrist.
His whole body twitches. His breath hitches with a quiet and surprised âfuck!â
You continue caressing his wrist, passing over the slit and down the newly thick vein. With every touch, Peter shivers with concerning force, his face twisted into a hesitant expression of pleasure and disgust.
Mock sympathy crosses your features. âYou okay, Spidey?â
âGodâ I-it feels so weirdâ w-wait! Wait wait wââ
Peterâs hand spasms as a long, thick spurt of web shoots from his wrist.
âAgh! Shit.â He throws his head back, a mix of a groan and whimper bubbling from his throat. His face scrunches even more as his boner strains against the thin fabric. He turns to you, his eyes watery, assuming youâre done now.
But you donât stop. Your thumb is right back to swiping over his wrist, his vein now pulsing slightly. Peterâs arm trembles but you hold it still with your other hand.
âAww itâs okay baby.â You coo at him, now rubbing circles around the small slit. His fingers wonât stop tensing and twitching, just like the nonstop string of pathetic noises coming from him.
âP-please.â He begs. âItâs s-sensitive hah now.â
Though he doesnât make a move to stop you, only continues to writhe on your bed. So you keep going, pressing hard into his vein all the way up, as if to milk the web out of him. âYouâre being such a good boy.â You murmur.
Another spurt shoots out.
This one has more of an effect on him. His whole body shakes, hips jerking up, eyes blown wide as he moans. âFuck! Okay, okay. Weâre done now? I canâtââ
This time, you cut him off with your mouth. Your tongue eagerly runs down his vein and laps at the tiny slit.
A broken sound pierces the air as a third wave of web sprays out of him, much weaker than the first two.
You glance over at him, seeing a few tears run down his cheeks. âItâs too much. Itâs too much for me.â His entire body is flushed, shaking, and covered in a sheen layer of sweat.
âJust one more?â You innocently bat your eyelashes, pressing a sweet kiss to his jaw. âYouâre doing so good. You can handle it. Your body wouldnât make it if it wasnât meant to come out.â
Before he can answer, youâre back to his wrist. Your teeth come out this time, lightly nibbling on his vein. It only takes a few sucks and nips before a fourth wave is coming out. It weakly spurts from him, more oozing than anything. His eyes roll back with a cry.
Your mouth comes down, licking up the little blotches of web that finished trickling out. Even after his wrist is cleaned, though, you donât pull away.
He violently shudders. âOh god I t-think Iâm gonnaâ I think Iâm gonnaââ
His entire body convulses. Hips bucking frantically, head tossing around wildly, loud and pathetic whines and groans filling the bedroom air.
A huge glob of web sprays from his right hand, and you see the now damp spot in his crotch area where he must have cum in his pantsâŠ
But nothing came out of his left wrist.
He turns his attention to it the same time you do, a slightly pained expression on his face. âOh, fuck.â
You look him in the eye with a tilt of your head, grinning. âWhatâs wrong? Got nothing left in there?â
Your thumb comes down to his wrist again. He jerks, squeezing his eyes shut. âGah! Hah! Plea.. mm! I ca- ngh!â
You suppress a giggle at his inability to form a coherent thought.
After a few minutes his arm tenses and his hand clenches like it always does before a spray, but nothing comes out.
He groans, and this time it sounds like pain has finally outweighed pleasure. His eyebrows are drawn in and eyes screwed shut. His back is off the bed as he heavily pants.
You slide his glove back on all the way, pushing his hair off his sticky forehead. âWhat does it feel like?â You murmur.
He opens his eyes to look at you, gaze cloudy and lost. âLike my body wantsâ n-needs to shoot something out, but thereâs nothing for it to.â
You give him a light kiss on his nose bridge. âThat must be so hard.â You say, voice sympathetic, but thereâs a glint in your eyes at his completely fucked out state, one that you were the complete cause of.
Though he doesnât see the slightly evil look in your eye, as his eyes are shut again, focusing on his heavy breathing. He simply nods. âI-it is. I canât stand it. Itâs like being denied l-like air o-orââ
Your hand gently cups his cheek, thumb swiping the drying tears under his eyes. âThatâs just awful. Especially since I havenât finished your right arm yet.â
You laugh. âIâm just kidding, Peter.â