The Deadly Kiss of the Spider Woman
And so, as the veil between the living and the dead gets thinner by the second, we find ourselves celebrating all things morbid, macabre and Morticia.
This year my gothic sensibilities have crept and crawled towards an archetypal and arachnocentric fantasy. This is a cautionary tale of wicked temptresses and scheming seductresses, arch-villains and superheroes, Greek myths and surreal fantasies.
A spider represents both a predator and a protector; a sinister threat and an industrious artist essential to our survival. As if there was ever any doubt, I can assure and indeed reassure you that the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
Most famously, the Black Widow lures her eight-legged lover into her web, feasting upon his flesh after mating has occurred. But (free meals aside) where’s the real amusement in that?
My tyrannical tactics are much more methodical and much less finite. My sadistic streak revels in the art of luring my prey into the tangled, silken fibres of my web before having my fun with my captive and captivated victim.
In my lair, I cocoon you in straps, ropes, rubber, or just the invisible yet inescapable fibres of my Mistress power and allure. Your desires and fetishes are woven into each tapestry, my subjective trap which I lay with you in mind. Each thread is correspondingly stronger than steel.
With you now spread-eagled in an obedient trance, you find yourself caught within the ultimate bondage predicament. Painfully conscious that it will only worsen your dilemma, can you resist the urge to struggle?
My World Wide Web!
Sometimes your entrapment is fast and sudden. I simply strike without warning. Fangs flash. Venom runs red hot through your veins.
Sometimes it’s slow, protracted and meticulous. Patiently, I allow ample time for your breath to quicken and your senses to sharpen.
Whatever my pace, your fate is sealed. You are ensnared and enslaved.
Wide-eyed, I now observe, relishing in your growing awareness that there’s no escape. Your pupils dilate, your flesh tellingly perspires. All the time I inch closer….your fear like a pheromone.
Just how will I amuse myself with my prey? As if you have to ask. My talons tease your tender flesh and I whisper softly in your ear.
‘Slave, I will feed off your pain in order to indulge my own carnal appetites. Exquisite tortures await you my sprawled and struggling victim. Give in and give yourself to me. Sacrifice your body, relinquish your mind. And I might just save a little of your soul.’
And so my devoted slaves, this Halloween, I urge you to beware the attentions of venomous vixens…
Or better still, don’t!