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SPIDER-MAN

Tangled Web

Chapter 4

(Hunting Party)

It had been a few months since the incident at Hudson Yards. The skeleton of the Vacuum Energy Exchange terminal remained, as did debris from the implosion. The ground sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight, shards from the stained glass littering the ground. Police tape fluttered in the breeze coming off the Hudson river and an insignificant chain link fence had been put up around the area. Warning signs from the Department of Damage Control ineffectively warned anyone from venturing into the area that was still considered to be a crime scene, though what kind of crime had not fully been determined.

While Hudson Yards was considered by some to be a focal point of gentrification, the collapse, failure and glacial speed of the clean up had brought an old world New York feeling to the neighborhood. It was enough that Rowdy and his friends opted to hang out there. The nineteen year old grinned a little, his mohawk dyed shades of the aurora borealis. The smooth sides of his head made his large gauge piercings all the more visible. His hand clutched the paper bag covered bottle as he tipped it back, letting the foul liquor pour over his tongue before he handed it to his friend.

Laughter erupted as Rowdy's friend coughed and sputtered from how potent the alcohol was, a small spray of the stuff glinting in the amber light as a curtain of dreads swept across his youthful face. Rowdy smirked, leaning against one of the cement poles that had delineated the outer edge of the VEX terminal. As he leaned back, the corner of his eye caught a glint of pseudo-motion inside the fence perimeter. He turned his caramel brown eyes in and watched as the air seemed to ripple and fold, creasing and bending. The skyline of New York twisted into an origami ring of light.

“Fuck man, how'd you get such an iron tongue?" the dreadlocked punk asked, looking at their mohawked leader. When Rowdy didn't respond, he grew concerned. “Boss?" he asked.

“What is that?" Rowdy asked, gesturing. The punks turned their gaze inwards, seeing the swirling vortex. When the center filled with an inky, misty orange fog, several of them straightened up.

“We shouldn't be here…" One of them murmured. Several others seemed to agree as they turned and headed toward the edge of the Yards. Rowdy, however, turned and looked inward. Breath caught in his throat as something slowly stretched through. It was large, broad, flat, and covered in blue fur. Several translucent claws extended from the boxy paw as it set down on the cement. A moist, black nose emerged from the event horizon, sniffing, followed by a long, broad muzzle covered in that same blue fur, speckled with black spots. Another paw, legs, an extended head, pointed ears. More and more of the creature emerged.

Rowdy knew he should have left, to run, to flee, but the alien nature of what he was witnessing was too compelling. Broad shoulders tapered to a slender hind quarter, powerful haunches and a long, thick blue tail. The creature emerged on all fours, padding along on black paw pads. As it moved, something dense wobbled beneath its hind legs. The fur on the sheath was shorter but connected down to grapefruit sized balls. As the tail swung behind the canine, the portal contracted in on itself and closed. As the unfamiliar air of New York swept around the creature, the blue wolf sniffed again. Brilliant gleaming golden eyes opened, the wolf turning its head towards Rowdy.

Seeing the gaze of the predator, Rowdy snapped out of his daze. He swallowed. New York was not known for animal encounters, aside from the kinds of crazies and weirdos on the subway. Rowdy tried to remember which animals it was best to run from and which ones it was best to appear large and threatening to. When nothing came to mind, he opted to turn and run. Boots began hitting the pavement as he bolted, his violet, green and blue mohawk like a compass needle pointing the direction he was headed. The blue wolf lowered its head and sprung forward.

All it took was a quick swipe of its paw to cut through the chain link fence, the edges sizzling as if they'd been cut by a welding torch. For every five paces Rowdy took, the wolf took one large one. Rowdy was panting for breath, the wolf was huffing. Rowdy had made it a few yards when the wolf pounced. Rowdy toppled forward, slamming into the ground so hard that he made an undignified noise as all the air left his lungs. He closed his eyes, waiting for death, but the paw slapped him in the ribs, rolling him onto his back.

“You don't want to look at your food, food's no good with a face…" Rowdy murmured. He opened one eye, looking up. The wolf remained there, large paws on every side of his body. When a strange, hot, sticky sound began to emanate from beneath the belly of the beast, Rowdy looked down. A bright sapphire blue tip began to emerge from that black sheath. It was as big as Rowdy's fist but shaped like the pointed tip of a pepper. The more that emerged, the veinier and thicker it was.

“Oh, no, you… you don't want to play with your food either…" Rowdy murmured. The wolf just growled in response, leaning down to sniff at Rowdy's neck with its big, black, wet nose. As it sniffed, it growled, making Rowdy shiver and tense up. The wolf, however, seemed to like the fairly sour musk the young punk exuded. The hard shaft began to drip a thick, viscous translucent white milky slime that splattered across Rowdy's torn up black jeans. The warmth saturated them quickly, soaking the boxers beneath. Rowdy's skin began to tingle, his cock began to ache, and soon his pants were tenting.

For once, no words left the punk's mouth. He looked up at the beast, panting harder as his heart began to race. His erection reached full mast in seconds. He wasn't sure what that meant, but as the creature leaned in and parted its muzzle to reveal two rows of sharp fangs, the last thing he would have expected was for the long tentacle-like tongue to plunge into his mouth. Inch after inch of slippery, wriggling, prehensile wolf tongue slithered across his own tongue, practically batting at his uvula before plunging down his throat. Rowdy's back arched, though the wolf responded to the movement by leaning forward, pressing his own dick to the punk's sloppy groin.

Rowdy involuntarily swallowed as if he was chugging the world's thickest pudding, feeling the alien creature's tongue reach his stomach. The wolf growled at that, his breath hot and humid against the punk's face. With that, the tip of the tentacle tongue nestled deep in Rowdy's stomach began to release some sort of potent toxic saliva. The tingling that had spread over Rowdy's groin began to radiate out from his stomach. His eyes went wide in shock, then euphoria, a strange grin covering his lips. As he lay there, his belly slowly filling with the strange substance, thousands of wispy purple and blue hairs began to sprout from his chest, appearing above the collar of his tank top.

The fur thickened in clumps and patches, growing out across his entire chest. The fur began to sprout across his ribs, his shoulders, spreading outward. The color drained from the black hairs on his arms, turning the same ephemeral color. Rowdy still lay there as soft purple stubble grew out across his cheeks, his eyebrows draining of pigment and growing together. His carefully shaved skull grew soft and downy with fur. The wolf retracted its long tongue, whipping out from a mouth that now contained sharp teeth.

Rowdy continued to groan and writhe, panting hard. His fingers dragged across the rough cement beneath him as his fingernails felt hot and soft. They grew out, curving down, thickening and sinking into the flesh of his digits. The skin grew over the top of them shortly before soft purple fur grew over them. His palms grew sweaty as they began to swell into paw pads, gaining little bean shaped pads on his fingertips. He winced, however, as the erection in his jeans grew even tighter. He reached down, clawing at it frantically, managing to get the button undone. With the pressure released, his cock pushed the fly open, the black cotton glistening with alien dog pre.

The wolf creature snarled happily, smelling a sudden rush. It swung around above Rowdy, lowering its muzzle. It plunged its mouth around his rod, enveloping it in his mouth for a moment before growling. Apparently the underwear was deemed unsatisfactory. Rowdy winced and yipped as the wolf snapped at his groin, somehow managing to miss the flesh before it whipped its head up, tearing the boxers away. Rowdy managed to lift his head, gazing down, looking at how big and hard his cock was. As he watched, the mushroom shaped tip began to stretch and distend, reshaping to match that of his hunter.

“I… I…" Rowdy tried to speak, but not only did the words not sound right coming out of his reshaping mouth, he wasn't able to cobble together enough of a thought to complete a sentence. The last vestiges of his thought disappeared as the wolf came down, suckling on his swelling cock. As if it was a plant waiting for the right conditions to bloom, the presence of that deadly, dangerous, alien mouth around Rowdy's cock made the thing grow inch after inch, thickening and fattening and lengthening, extruding out of his body. As it nearly doubled in size, the blood fleeing his brain to feed it reached the point of no return.

Rowdy began to lean up, his tongue stretching out. He rubbed his forehead along the underside of the wolf's dick before he found the tip, opening his maw. He took it in far easier than he would have earlier, letting it slide down his throat without the hint of a gag. He began to bounce his head up and down, finding it easier with each thrust, unaware that his face was stretching out longer. His nostrils upturned and darkened, the fur sweeping over the bridge of his nose as it broadened and melded to his forming muzzle.

Pops and snaps and cracks ripped through Rowdy's body as his shoulders shifted, then his hips, his knees, even his ankles. His ears burned as they stretched into points, migrating up the side of his head, growing fur before they stood proudly on either side of his mohawk. He braced his feet on either side of him, clenching his eyes shut as the leather boots grew tighter and tighter, straining and stretching. The laces began to cut through the eyelets punched into the leather until it burst, revealing the strange, swollen, wriggling digits of a canine paw.

Rowdy kicked the broken remnants of his shoes away, using his legs to lift his ass, managing to both thrust his canine cock into the bigger wolf's muzzle and to take the pressure off his tailbone, a bone that had wriggled free of his pelvis and was now stretching out behind his pert ass cheeks. As it grew out, the wriggling tube of flesh was filling out with long violet fur. The two beasts continued suckling and slurping lewdly as Rowdy's humanity diminished quickly. He growled himself as his second row of fangs began to prick through his gums, rising into place between the front teeth.

The bigger wolf seemed to be getting more and more into it as its partner mutated. It continued to suck and slurp, wrapping its tentacle tongue around the length like a coil, squeezing and milking it. Being so long, however, it slipped out and across Rowdy's hip, curving down and across that bubble butt before it snaked and slithered into the pucker behind. Rowdy let out a growl of surprise, his neck thickening to connect to the canine shoulders even as his pucker began to stretch, to swell, to go from the texture of flesh to a more resilient rubbery feeling.

The alien wolf began to plunge his tongue in and out, faster, harder, slinking it deeper and deeper into Rowdy. As the tongue began to strike true for Rowdy's prostate, the former punk began to snarl and thrash. His balls began to grow and expand, filling up his sack more and more as the tiny tubules became more complex, feeding his massive wolf rod. The newly minted purple tail began to slap beneath him. The bigger blue wolf snarled, vibrating with pleasure, tasting so much of Rowdy all at once. Its spine went rigid, its tail fluffed out, and then it came… from multiple points.

The hot, wet, sticky, wriggling rush filled Rowdy's ass, his belly, and coated his groin. In seconds he was dripping. What little bit of human flesh that had remained was soon covered with purple fur. His ribs popped and snapped into a new configuration. His eyes clenched tight before opening, the brown sizzling to gold. His new dick began to erupt with jet after jet of thick, sticky semen as he gave back to the creature that had corrupted him. His own tentacle-tongue began to loll and hang out the side of his mouth.

For several minutes, the two relished in their mutual orgasm. As the sun set and the sirens of New York grew louder, however, the blue wolf pulled back. Extracting itself rather easily, it shook off its coat, padded a few feet away and then looked back. Rowdy lay there, wet and sloppy, but he finally rolled over onto knees and elbows before shakily rising up onto all fours. His body was no longer meant to be bipedal, and his brain was not meant to do anything more than hunt and fuck. He panted happily, feeling his huge dick wobbling beneath his belly.

The blue wolf sniffed and snorted before he began walking forward. As he did, his fur began to shimmer, growing translucent, then nearly invisible. He was a shadow, an echo, an afterthought. In a mild panic, Rowdy followed after, feeling his own body tingle as his camouflage began to work. He fell into stride behind his Alpha, following his scent as much as his movement, content to follow the hunter's instincts wherever it took them. Whatever happened, Rowdy had never felt so good, nor so full, in all of his life.

****

New York was a city of infinity - limitless color, boundless sound, life overflowing. Peter Perez had felt truly blessed to be New York born and raised. As Spider-Man he felt the honor and duty to protect it in whatever way he could. Over stimulation had been a challenge when Peter was first learning the ropes, or webs, as Spider-Man but it was becoming easier to fine tune his senses and narrow in on what was particularly important. In this case, it was a serial carjacker en route to a chop shop.

The steady 'thwips' of webbing shot out from Peter's wrists as he swung in broad arcs in the sharp valley between the cliff faces of the skyscrapers. The colors and sounds of the other vehicles muted themselves as the gleaming white semicircular eyes of Spider-Man's suit narrowed. The orange and black of his uniform blended in with the aging street lights, making him appear little more than a passing breeze. Peter's strong biceps contracted, pulling himself higher as he swung through a particularly narrow cluster of street lights, power poles and flags.

As Spider-Man shot through feet first, his arms came out and shot out two new webs that latched onto buildings, allowing him to convert his forward motion into upwards momentum. As he shot up over the roof line, Peter let go, coming down into a full run. The newest blend of Harry's super suit protected Peter's sensitive feet from the grit and gravel on the roof while still allowing for all the flexibility. Spider-Man tilted his head slightly as he heard the faint squeak-squeal of the brakes on his target vessel.

The precision and perfection of the human form was on display as Spider-Man lost no momentum, curving his arc and heading down the side street. He built up even more speed before he lunged forward, dropping down over the far edge of the corner building. As he dropped he shot out a web at an angle, sending him in a diagonal arc. Bringing his feet up, Peter pushed off that building and sailed down at a sharper angle. Spotting some traffic cones and barricades up ahead, he knew it was time.

Landing on the sidewalk, Peter let several cars pass before he brought his hands up and let out a flurry of shots. Potholes filled with webbing, globs ricocheted off of poles and then Peter began to weave rapidly. The translucent strands tightened as they dried, forming into a net. Satisfied with his work, Peter leaned back and crossed his arms, watching as the stolen car casually drove directly into the net, coming to a sudden, though pliant stop. Several cars behind the vehicle honked in dismay.

“Three, two, one…" Peter counted down to himself. The stolen car threw itself into reverse and backed up, wobbling as the tires settled into the sticky potholes. Peter brought his hands down and started walking around the front of the car as he mimed rolling down a manual window. “You should probably put the hazard lights on, don't want anyone getting hurt." Peter called out. As he reached the driver's side door, however, the passenger side shot open and a figure clad in black rolled out onto the sidewalk, sprung up and started running.

Harry had worked hard to make the Spider-Man suit expressive and the sheer disappointment related through those white eyes was a testament to that technical achievement. Peter opened the driver side door to ensure the person running wasn't the passenger, leaned in and turned on the hazard lights before he jumped through the interior of the car and rolled onto the cement on the other side. Rolling up to his feet he broke back into a run, taking the first right. He did a handspring over a dumpster, grabbed onto the crossbeam of a street light and landed on the sidewalk on the side street. Crouching down, he shot out a web that latched across the alleyway opening of the next building down. Leaning back, Peter pulled it taught.

“Ungh!" The fleeing criminal yelped as he toppled forward. Before he could get up and run again, Peter launched one more web that splattered across the criminal's back, then shot the other end up to the fire escape above. The web quickly tightened, the tension strength more than enough to hoist the criminal by his shoulders. He shouted and yelled, flailing, trying to reach back to the web that grabbed him. Peter walked forward casually, wondering if the man would realize that unzipping his jacket would drop him back to the ground. When he continued to flail, Peter clucked a little with his tongue.

“You know, I wanted to see if you were brave or stupid… Do you know how many car jackers have been pulled off the streets this month? They practically got their own wing at the precinct. I think it is time to get another profession, my dude." Peter said with a nonchalant shrug.

“Let me down, I can cut you in. No, wait, I can get you your own ride! My cousin can paint it up real nice, spider webs and everything man!" The criminal pleaded. Spider-Man put his hands on his hips.

“What would I do with a car? Do you know how expensive parking is in New York? And the traffic?" Peter said, doing the one thing his mask couldn't manage. He rolled his eyes. Another 'thwip' sounded as Peter closed a web across the front of the criminal, the two pieces sealing into a harness-like structure to keep him safely in place. Peter turned and headed back towards the car. Vigilante justice was tricky. If he left the car where it was, the criminal might get prosecuted. If he left it there, though, it might just get stolen again, towed, or damaged. Weighing the options, he'd just have to get it back to the rightful owner… after ensuring that she amended her report to the police so they didn't think he stole the car on the way back.

Peter had nearly made it back to the car when he slowed to a stop. The color slowly drained from the traffic, the street lights shifting from orange to silver. One eye widened in the suit's approximation of an eyebrow raise. Something wasn't right. It wasn't an overt threat but - In an instant the sudden motion of several small objects prompted Peter to push off the cement, flipping backwards. As his body went horizontal, the objects flew harmlessly above and below his body, sticking into the brick wall behind him.

“Woah!" Peter yelped as he landed on his hands, having to push onto one hand as a hulking figure came sweeping in from the alley he'd used to hunt down the carjacker. Peter pushed off, dropping onto his feet, ducking as a spear jutted forward. Spider-Man reached up, grabbing the shaft of the spear, using both hands to force it forward, keeping its original momentum. The spear clattered to the ground behind him. Peter came up on his feet, intending to punch the abdomen of the person that had come after him. As his hands struck muscle as firm as metal, he winced and pulled back. A nervous chuckle left his lips as he looked up to see the face of his attacker. “Hey, maybe we can be civil about this… Beastmaster?"

The reason for Peter's quip came from the fact that the six foot three, extremely muscled man in his late thirties was wearing a fur collared vest and dark leather pants. His brownish-black hair flowed in messy waves down to the nape of his neck and his face was framed with a dense, full, bushy brown beard that hung down several inches from his jaw. His bare arms revealed weathered skin criss-crossed with countless scars. As the man looked Spider-Man up and down, his rich brown eyes seemed to take on a faint golden luminescence for a moment before returning to normal."You are this world's protector?" The man asked, the edge of his voice carrying a faint Russian accent. Peter's mask eyes went wide.

“This world? I mean… I try to get out to all the boroughs as much as I can, Manhattan, the Bronx, Staten Island has its own thing going on most of the time…" Peter admitted.

“Your abilities far exceed those of anyone else here… Though you do have one weakness." The man continued, undaunted by Peter's youthful energy. Peter shrugged a little.

“I don't have a superhero themed car?" Peter asked. The bearded man turned his head a little, sizing Spider-Man up again.

“Mercy. You open yourselves up to your enemies. That is the moment when the hunter becomes prey." he said, his voice as deep and gruff as ever.

“You might see it as a weakness, but I'm just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man," Peter replied.

“Kraven, the Hunter." The man replied. Peter opened his mouth and then closed it. He hadn't been intending to introduce himself but now he saw how it had been taken.

“Not that I don't appreciate it, but when I said we could be civil, I hadn't really expected you to take me up on it. What… is going on here?" Peter asked. Kraven scanned the busy street, his eyes shifting from brown to gold and back to brown. He seemed to withdraw slightly as if the excessive humanity around him was too much. He looked back at Spider-Man.

“I have come here searching for my prey. It is dangerous and elusive. I can't take it down alone. I need a hunting party." Kraven said. Peter stood there, imperceptibly nodding.

“A hunting party… for elusive prey…" Peter repeated slowly, “Is this a manhunt, or-" Peter was cut off as Kraven reached out, pressing something to his throat. By the time Peter reached up, the object had closed around his neck and clasped in the back. “What?!" he asked, stunned that Kraven had been able to move faster than his senses could keep up with. He clutched at the collar the man had put on him, wincing a little as sharp edges began to poke through the protective barrier of his gloves. “Dude, not cool!" Peter said, turning to where the Hunter had been standing, only to see empty space. Turning right and then left, there was no sign of him. Peter let out a groan of dismay before he walked back to the car he'd saved from the carjacker. Coming up to the passenger side window, he looked at his reflection.

Strapped around his neck was a collar made of bones. Each one was dagger sharp, criss crossed up and down. It was intricately made. Thankfully the seam between Peter's mask and bodysuit would still pull apart around the collar, but with no visible clasp or seam, Peter wasn't exactly sure how to get the thing off. Glancing around, there was still no sign of the Hunter. He took a long breath and began moving to free the vehicle from the webbing that had so ensnared it.

****

By the time that Peter made it back to his apartment, the sky was already taking on the earliest shades of dawn. The window glided up easily, laboriously sanded and lubricated to ensure silent egress for his night job. He slipped in, shut the window and reached up to pull off his mask. A shock of rusty reddish-copper hair fell around his youthful face, sweat soaked and slick. He reached up and pulled the release on his suit, the fabric relaxing enough that he could pull it down around his shoulders and wriggle out. The suit was generally quite comfortable, but Peter pushed himself on Fridays and Saturdays, staying out later since he didn't have school the next day. The extra work resulted in him practically peeling the outfit from his body.

Slinking out of the orange and black outfit, Peter carried it over to his closet. He'd have to wash it when his dad was sleeping. He couldn't risk it getting discovered when he got off his night shift. Peter crossed back towards his bed, slowing to a stop in front of his mirror. He turned, looking at his reflection. Becoming Spider-Man had gifted him with spry muscles, though he'd gotten a bit bulkier by actually putting them to use. His short lived relationship with Billy had resulted in bulking up fast thanks to the indulgence of his mutagenic vape… but tonight? Peter had to admit, he looked solid. Biceps, triceps, pectorals, abdominal muscles. Sure, they weren't anything next to Kraven, but…

Peter inhaled sharply as he felt his heart starting to accelerate. The blood began pumping through his body faster and faster. The heat reached the tiniest capillaries and vessels. His eyes dilated, his nipples hardened. Veins began to pulse along his arms and chest. The collar seemed to feel tighter, clinging to his neck as it began to broaden, widening as muscles snaked their way down from his head to his shoulders, fanning out into wider curves. Peter reached out to grab the mirror, fingers clutching so hard the wood frame started to groan. As Peter looked at his reflection, his youthful face darkened as stubble began to push out from his skin. It prickled, emerging first from his chin, strands of rust colored hair extruding out, descending into a short tuft. His sideburns dropped down next, creeping towards his jaw before fanning forward, looking like wild throwbacks to the seventies.

Peter nearly fell forward to his knees, feeling his chest burn with sensation. He watched dozens, hundreds, then thousands of hairs bristle out, crossing his pecs. In moments he went from looking like a muscled teen to looking like a well built man. Wearing only his boxers and the bone necklace, Peter had to admit he found himself incredibly attractive. That notion only added fuel to the fire as his boxers soon tented sharply, jutting out. He groaned harder, reaching for his dick. He peeled back the cotton, gasping as he saw a fat, huge, meaty looking member. It was almost as big as it had been when he'd gone lizard…

“Fuck, this-" Peter hesitated. His voice didn't sound right. It was deeper, dropping as he tried to speak. Peter moaned again, the throbbing on his face intensifying. A wispy juvenile mustache blossomed across his upper lip, the wiry strands curving down over the edge. As they grew, however, they thickened and darkened until the mustache was a thick curtain. His mutton chops grew into his mustache and the edges of his mustache descended down to grow into the goatee descending from his chin. The hair went into overdrive, pushing out from his cheeks and jaw, creeping back along the underside of his jaw before the hair even started sprouting from his throat. It crept up higher on his cheeks, leaving no semblance of a defined line.

Peter couldn't help but let a little drool leak out of the corner of his mouth, the saliva running into his rusty red beard. New hairs prickled between his eyebrows, risking giving him the appearance of a unibrow from a distance. Hair sprouted from the backs of his knuckles as well, his legs looking absolutely forested. Peter reached one hand up to explore how thick his new beard was only to be hit with a whiff of absolutely rancid pit sweat. He grimaced a bit but continued to lift his arm, revealing a thatch of red hair beneath his arm so dense it reminded him of his Wookie stuffed animal. Uncertain as to why, exactly, Peter lifted his other arm to ensure it had just as thick a pelt of hair as the first. With his arms raised, he clenched his muscles a bit, watching them bulge beneath his taut skin.

The rush of testosterone coursed through his veins and soon his cock could be denied no longer. He wrapped one thick, hairy fingered hand around the rod and started stroking, but it wasn't enough. As the flesh stretched and fattened, he added the second hand. He stroked hard and fast and kept thrusting his hips the whole time, his boxers sliding down his legs to reveal full, rounded, hairy butt cheeks. Peter threw his head back, feeling the trailing end of his sweat soaked hair creeping down the back of his neck until it brushed his shoulders. Every breath and moan filtered through the frame of his thick mustache and long beard.

With his head tilted back his hair hung down straight but his beard curved up and out in a thick wedge of masculinity. Peter's toes popped and snapped as they grew outward. His heels broadened, his arches increased. Even Peter's spine stretched taller, his ribs pushing apart from one another. His body burned with the heat of cellular mitosis in overdrive. Peter panted hard, then gasped, then groaned, and then howled as he came. A few sticky jets of his normal semen erupted from his huge, fat dick before a much more voluminous geyser of silvery pre splattered across the mirror. Peter came and came, unable and unwilling to stop. As it kept cumming, his hormone addled brain got the better of him.

Using both hands, Peter angled his huge cock upwards, redirecting the fountain of semen. He opened his mouth wide and tried to catch it in his mouth. While he was mostly successful, several globs rained down across his newly grown beard, soaking into the strands. Pete didn't care. He savored the briny, salty sludge as he gulped his own seed down. The perverse depravity of it only made his cock that much harder, his orgasm that much sweeter. He had pushed well beyond the normal limits of manliness. He was an animal worthy of a Beastmaster, or at least to be in his hunting party.

At the idea of that, Peter's nostrils flared. His eyes dilated further, the pacific blue irises that normally looked so innocent taking on a greenish hue. He licked his lips, still tasting his seed on them, but the salt… the salt reminded him of the hunt. He flexed his muscles again, glancing around back to the closet. Even with Harry continually improving how stretchy the fabric was, he doubted it would cover his new body… and part of him didn't want to. He reached up and ran his fingers down along his thick, red beard. It was so dense, so long, so full. It was an extension of his own manliness and he loved it. Stroking his beard only made him that much harder… but he had work to do. There was something wild loose in the city and he had to hunt it down.

****

Spider-Man had been elegant, streamlined, limber… Whatever Peter was now was something else. He'd tried swinging on his webs only to rip whatever pole or edifice he attached to clean off of the buildings. Instead, he used the incredible strength of his legs to spring from building to building like a jumping spider, his broad fingers and toe tips finding easy purchase with the strange sticking power he'd always had. The black and orange tie-dye sweatshirt emblazoned with the spider symbol had made its return, though Peter had been forced to cut off the sleeves and cut down the sides, wearing it more like a long poncho. He'd used the sleeves to make an eye mask, tying it across his face just above his nose, the tails fluttering behind his long hair, only a little of the white metamaterial used for eye holes.

Peter had navigated his way across town, trying to fine tune his spider senses to anything that seemed out of place. After almost twenty minutes he'd managed to land on the same rooftop as Kraven. He straightened up and walked across, his calloused and leathery feet finding no problem with the grit and gravel he'd needed his suit to protect him from the night before. While Kraven's body did not move, a slight smile curved the corner of his mouth - almost imperceptible beneath his thick brown mustache.

“I knew you would join my hunting party, Spider-Man. It is in your blood." Kraven replied. Peter came up beside the hunter, realizing only then at just how tall he'd gotten. Looking down at his body, the bulge of his groin was almost obscene. He'd found his father's largest pants and they barely fit with enough flex to keep from tearing as he made his way across town.

“I still don't know what this is all about, but… whatever you did to me feels amazing." Peter said. Kraven nodded.

“You are good, but for what we face you need a hunter's advantage. I have loaned you some of the voodoo that empowers me. We need to take down our prey before it takes too deep a root in this world." Kraven said.

“The magic or the prey?" Peter asked.

“Both." Kraven replied, reaching out to cup the edge of Peter's bushy red beard in his hand. Peter inhaled a little, feeling a charge go through him and blood went rushing back to his groin. “A shame, you make a good hunter." Kraven said before turning back to the edge of the rood, inclining his head. “Our quarry."

Creeping forward to the edge of the building, Peter couldn't help but crouch as he would have as Spider-Man. Peering down into the pit of a construction site, Peter saw two large creatures. Each was almost the size of a lion, but the shape of their heads and tails made them seem far more canine. One was blue and black, the other violet and pale shades of green and blue… as well as having a rather distinct crest of hair running along its head. They seemed to be running around in circles, sniffing, nipping at one another.

“They don't seem so bad." Peter said, looking back up at Kraven.

“One of them was human a few hours ago. Now he is not." The hunter replied. Peter's eyes widened at that.

“Wait, it turned someone into one of itself?!" Peter asked.

“That is the risk of leaving it wild. It will make a pack for itself." Kraven answered.

“So do we attack with spears or knives or what?" Peter murmured. Kraven shook his head at his response.

“Our goal is not to kill the creature. We hunted it down, we have cornered it. Now we make sure it is not a threat to your world. I will take it back with me." Kraven said. Peter rose back to his feet, skeptical.

“What kind of hunter takes samples? You're not some secret zoologist, are you?" Peter asked.

Rather than respond to his recent convert, Kraven merely stepped over the edge of the building, dropping two stories to land on the fire escape. Grabbing onto the railing, he propped himself over the edge of that as well, descending hand and foot down in a shockingly rapid fashion. Peter took one step back, pushed forward and jumped, arcing out and across the construction site, landing soundly on the other side. The two wolves bristled as they reared up, though the color seemed to grow translucent, then transparent as they disappeared from view.

“You didn't tell me they could cloak!" Peter called out.

“That is why we need to be hunters." Kraven replied, his eyes that strange gleaming gold again as he moved. Peter remained where he was, focusing on his surroundings. He couldn't see the creatures, but there were many more ways to find them. He took a sniff of the air with his larger, broader, more masculine nose. He nearly doubled over, smelling the salty tang of sweat and cum and piss that saturated the construction site.

“They're in heat…" Peter murmured. Kraven grinned across the site.

“Good, what else?" He asked. Peter tried not to let the smell get to him, finding it oddly alluring. No doubt that was how the creature turned its victim. He focused carefully, noticing a faint haze in the air. As he studied it closer, he noticed some muddy ridges in a tire tread compress. Not waiting to verbalize, Peter shot his arms out, letting out volley after volley of web. It stuck to mid air and then the ground, slowly building up the outer edge of an object. The air crinkled before the black and blue wolf appeared, snarling. It responded by letting out its whip-like tentacle tongue, sending it directly into Peter's mouth. Peter's bearded cheeks bulged as he got a throat full of that salty semen, feeling it flow down in three gulps before he sputtered and stumbled back.

As Peter panted for breath, he felt his canine teeth sharpening, his ears pushing into points. A brighter pigmentation began to work its way out from his cheeks, turning the already rusty orange-red hair a bright orange. The blue wolf seemed to growl happily, turning to face Peter more fully. A wet, slick sound came as its long blue cock slowly oozed out of its sheath. The two stood there for a moment, eyeing each other down. When the wolf sent its tongue out a second time, Peter spun and grabbed it, tugging. The wolf yipped and stumbled forward, retracting the tongue like a tape measure before going invisible again.

“Not bad. Not good either, but not bad." Kraven replied.

“You could have warned me." Peter said, getting used to the fangs and an apparently longer tongue of his own.

“You learn by doing." Kraven replied simply. He reached out into thin air, snatching and clutching something. The black and blue wolf shimmered back into existence, trying to buck and bolt, held firmly by the nape of its neck. It thrashed, but its strength seemed somehow muted by just one hand gripping it in exactly the right spot. Peter watched in awe, waiting for Kraven to take it down. If he could manage that much with one hand, he couldn't wait to see what he did with his other - at least until Kraven used it to unzip his pants.

As Peter watched in shock, Kraven let loose the thickest, longest cock Peter had ever seen on any human. It rivaled that of Billy's reptilian rod. Even hard, there was enough foreskin that hugged the fist sized head. Peter couldn't believe what was happening even as Kraven lifted the wolf's tail, revealing a rubbery black sphincter. The messy haired, brown bearded hunter stepped forward, plunging his dick into that hole. Moving one hand to the wolf's hip while keeping the other on his neck, Kraven started to fuck the monster.

While the wolf tried to resist at first, its eyes started to slowly glaze over as Kraven pounded into its ass. The huge canine dick between its legs began to drool silvery syrup openly and a long, dripping tentacle tongue soon slipped out of its muzzle. It panted, showing off the twin rows of fangs. Soon it was pushing back against Kraven, grinding its balls against his, slamming back. Peter's jaw hung open in absolute shock, something that was quite unwise given the fact that there was another creature out there.

The air rippled as the aurora colored wolf pounced, slamming into Peter's immense muscled chest with two dinner plate sized paws. If he had been his original self, he would have been knocked down for the count. Instead, he slid back two paces. The wolf snarled before shooting its tongue out for Peter's mouth. Peter tilted his head, the slimy appendage grazing his pointed ear. Dismayed, the tongue suddenly coiled around Peter's throat instead, crushing it. Peter grunted and wheezed at that, looking into the eyes of the beast before him - a beast that had once been human.

Peter tried punching it in the ribs but the muscles and fur were too thick. More than that, he seemed to find several puffy swollen nipples running down the newer wolf's stomach. Trying not to think about it too much, Peter reached around the wolf's head and grabbed onto the scruff of the neck where Kraven had grabbed the other wolf. The lighter colored beast yipped and whimpered, its tongue retracting. Eyes wide in surprise, it dropped down to all fours… and took off running. Unable to release his spider-grip that fast, Peter yelped as he was pulled forward.

Like a matador in a very strange bull fight, Peter was dragged several paces, kicking up dust before he dug in his heels and pulled the monster to a stop. It barked and jumped, trying to get free, but to Peter's surprise he could see its purple cock swelling fatter and fuller beneath it. It was… liking the wrestling? Glancing over at the other hunter, Peter blushed a little beneath his beard. Kraven and the wolf seemed to be very into it. The blue and black wolf had settled onto its front legs, keeping its ass hiked up for Kraven to claim.

“Do… Do I have to do that part?" Peter called out, grunting as his prey continued to buck and jump.

“You said it yourself, they are in heat. Asserting dominance in this way is the only thing that will keep them in line." Kraven said, showing remarkable breath control despite his thrusting. Peter hesitated before he used his free hand to lift the wolf's tail. Looking down, the black rubbery ring nestled in the light fur was positively inviting. It was glistening, undulating with an almost hypnotic grace. The backside of the canine's huge balls were resting just beneath like a happy cushion. As Peter looked at it, it began to secrete a milky white slime that seemed somewhere between precum and semen. Peter didn't know if it was more of the creature's natural liquids, or if it was left over from the Alpha claiming its prize.

“I can't believe I'm doing this…" Peter said, reaching down. He unfastened the button of his pants, knowing he'd have to burn them after this. With a quick unzip, he let his meat slip out. Sensing the presence of such a male, the lighter colored wolf began to huff and growl, slowly scooting its hind quarters back towards Peter. Peter nearly closed his eyes, but instead he kept one hand on the scruff of the creature's neck and used the other to hold its hip. As he pressed forward, he felt the wet squelching embrace of a very strange, very unfamiliar ass closing around his dick.

Apparently not waiting for Peter to take his sweet time, Rowdy pushed his furry haunches back, taking in inch after inch of the superhero dick until he felt the nestle of their balls coming closer together. Peter exhaled a long and surprising breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He remained there for a moment before he pulled back and thrust in a second time. It was faster, firmer, better. Lowering his left hand to the beast's other hip for better leverage, he pulled back to thrust again, only to be rewarded by a tentacle tongue forcing its way into his mouth and down his throat. It slithered past his uvula and nestled in his stomach before unleashing a potent amount of the corruptive slime.

Peter realized his mistake instantly, but as his stomach grew warm and full, he didn't seem to remember why it was a bad thing exactly. His thick fingers shuddered as his nails stretched out into claws and parts of his fingertips and palms began to swell and bloat into paw pads. Peter's bearded face popped and snapped, stretching and distending as his skull pushed forward into a proto muzzle. Hair began to blossom across his back and shoulders, the hair Kraven had given him thickening more on his arms and legs. Peter's eyes glazed over a little with pleasure, at least until his web ducts began to sting.

The throbbing pain on each wrist snapped Peter back to the present. He returned his hand to the nape of the wolf's neck and it was unable to keep its long tongue from retracting. Put back in its place, it seemed content to buck his hindquarters into Peter's big dick, letting him go deep and hard and fast. Peter sniffled a little through a swollen, darker nose. He'd slipped further than he intended to, but he knew what he had to do. He kept at it, only looking up as Kraven's grunts and groans became audible again. He threw his head back, cumming into his own beast, letting out a long exhale as he finished.

Reaching down to his hip, he unfurled a long leather cord and reached out. Buried in the thick ruff of his blue and black fur, the Alpha beast had been adorned with a leather collar Peter hadn't seen until that moment. Kraven clipped the lead onto the loop. As if understanding it had lost, the big wolf laid down onto all fours, wagging its tail behind him and panting happily, the long tongue hanging out of his muzzle.

Peter went to ask a question but instead he groaned, moaned, then hollered. His balls seized up, his cock spasmed and volley after volley of his manly seed pumped into the monster before him. Peter's eyes clenched shut and he moaned in contentment, riding the rush until every last drop had been expended. By the time that Peter had enough strength to open his eyes, his partner had laid down in the dirt as well. Kraven walked over, pulling a new collar from the other side of his belt, leaning down to put it on the aurora-colored beast.

“Wait, aren't you going to turn him back?" Peter asked. Kraven stared at Peter with an almost unreadable expression.

“The corruption took too deep a root. If he is able to turn back, he'll be a wawkalak, a werewolf of sorts. In the meantime, he'll make a fine hunting dog." Kraven said, reaching down to scratch Rowdy's chin. The lighter colored wolf wagged his tail and panted happily. Peter's jaw still hung open.

“Wh…" Peter murmured, “What about me? And are you saying all this happened because your hunting dog got let off its leash?! You came to this world to find your lost dog? And what about me?!" Peter asked. Kraven reached out, his hand slipping around Peter's neck to grab onto the bone necklace in nearly the same spot that had rendered the dogs vulnerable. Pulling at it, the collar went loose and slipped off Peter's neck. Peter wobbled suddenly, feeling as if he had the worst case of vertigo he'd ever experienced.

The world rushed out away from Peter, or rather he contracted from it. Bones compacted, tendons tightened, ribs compressed. His face burned and his feet ached. When Peter felt his equilibrium starting to return, he straightened back up, only to realize he only came up to Kraven's pecs. Tilting his head back up, Peter reached up to feel his face. He nearly whimpered, feeling his youthful baby cheeks. Only the pitiful scruff on the very tip of his chin remained, the goatee he'd been trying to grow for a month. There were no signs of dog ears or fangs. Kraven held up the necklace.

“Magic not meant for this world." He repeated. Peter tried to speak but the color drained from his face as he tried not to throw up. The sudden reversion had been too much. He looked down at the two furry beasts that were hunkered down at either side of Kraven's feet and shook his head.

“If… If he can be returned to human, if he wants to come back, you need to do everything in your power to make it happen. He belongs in… his natural habitat." Peter said. Kraven chuckled at that and nodded.

“Mercy, but perhaps in this case it isn't so bad." Kraven said, reaching out to give Peter's shoulder a squeeze so tight he worried it might break something. “If I ever need to hunt this way again, I will find you." He replied, not as an offer but as a fact. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew an oddly technological looking bracelet. Strapping it on to his hairy wrist, Kraven punched a few buttons.

The very air behind Kraven seemed to twist and crumple, wrinkling into a ring of bent light like some sort of living stained glass serpent eating its own tail. The center filled with a misty black and orange energy that Peter recognized only too well. Kraven let out a whistle and both wolves rose to their feet. With a click of his tongue, they both advanced through the portal. Kraven followed after at a calm, measured pace. As he passed through the event horizon it contracted and closed in on itself until there was no hint that it had ever existed.

Peter stood there for a long moment until the early morning breeze blew across his exposed ribs and he shivered. Looking down, his torn up sweatshirt, eye mask and borrowed pants seemed ludicrous. He tucked himself back in with what little modesty he could manage, zipped up and raised his arms. No longer inflamed from corruptive magic, Peter shot out two perfect silvery webs that adhered to the side of one of the nearby buildings. He took a few steps back to stretch their pliability before he let their natural tension catapult him into the air. As he rose up higher, he began shooting new webs, arcing his way through the city.

****

The mid morning light sparkled off the smokey metallic quartz color of Harry's car, the chameleon coating currently turned off to keep from attracting too much attention. As Peter sat in the passenger seat, his back being massaged by a dozen hidden heated mechanized fingers, he started to wonder if he should have taken the criminal up on his offer of a tricked out Spider-Car. The thought was washed away as a fragment of the wasabi paste in his sushi hit his tongue, triggering a wave of sensation across his taste-buds. He chewed more rapidly before washing it down with some of his boba tea from the cup holder.

While Harry had gotten tea for both of them, his eyes were wide as he flipped through Peter's phone, reviewing the hasty pictures he'd taken of his temporary form the night before. Blushing a little at the nature of the photos, he reached over to try and take one of Harry's California rolls only to get a swat on the hand from his pink haired best friend. Peter grinned a little at being caught and returned his hand to his cup, sipping at it as he waited for some sort of reaction from his friend.

“Talk about a growth spurt. Do I have to start calling you Papi Perez now?" Harry asked.

“Shut up." Peter said, rolling back in the seat.

“Did I mention that your costume made you look like a hairy Ninja Turtle?" Harry asked. Peter groaned at that, writhing more.

“Shut up!!!" Peter protested.

“Oh, Wolf Spider! You know, when you got fuzzy." Harry grinned. When Peter didn't laugh that time, Harry decided to try a more restrained approach. “I can't even imagine what it must have been like, especially in such a short time." he admitted.

“When he turned me back, I felt like I was gonna hurl. It was like I had gotten ripped out of myself. I guess that's probably normal when you lose like half your body mass and shrink down, but… I don't know. Both with Kraven and Billy, it's like I… I was a different person when they changed me." Peter said. Harry nodded, reaching for his sushi.

“The horny effect." Harry said simply, popping the white, pink and green savory morsel into his mouth.

“I mean, that's a part of it I guess, but-" Peter stopped when Harry shook his head.

“No, I mean there's this thing where someone is way into certain kinks or fetishes when they're horny, but when the blood returns to their brain they're kind of horrified by it or at least neutral. In both those cases you were being pumped full of hormones, pheromones, and… did he say voodoo?" Harry asked. Peter nodded.

“Yeah, at least once. It was magic of some kind." Peter replied, sipping his tea until a slurping sound came from the straw. Harry reached down between his feet, fishing through the bag before producing another boba tea to hand to Peter. Peter nearly bounced up and down in his seat. “Thank you! I must still be replacing calories." Peter said. Harry ran a hand across the fringes of his bubblegum pink hair, the faintly caramel tan a little richer in what sunlight made it through the polarized windshield.

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic… Doctor Octavius punched a hole into the universe with his science, maybe it didn't get sealed well enough to keep magic from leaking in." Harry said. Peter's already pale, freckled face seemed to lighten two shades as his cup lowered.

“If that's… I mean, if it isn't fully sealed… I banished him for no reason. He's out there because of me, and things are still getting in?" Peter asked.

“You did say the wolf showed up at the terminal, right? I mean, maybe it's a tiny hole, barely noticeable, but maybe we should get some sort of alarm system set up or something… In case any other visitors show up." Harry offered. Peter nodded reluctantly.

“That's probably a good idea." He admitted, feeling rather deflated again. Harry winced a little.

“Also, I'm not sure I can hang out next weekend. At least not on Saturday. My dad's got this big press conference and I have to be there as the token son." Harry added. Peter looked up a little.

“What's it for?" Peter asked. Harry glanced around out of the car a little before looking back at Peter.

“Promise not to tell?" Harry asked. Peter's red brows furrowed.

“You know that I'm a web-slinging superhero that's had a date with a lizard… I think your secret is safe with me from the collateral alone." Peter replied. Harry shrugged.

“Right, right. Well, my dad has been working on a project for a while, I mean, he's always working on projects, but this one… He wants to be the next rich CEO to blast himself off into space. Dad's going to be on the launch of an experimental space shuttle. They are going to announce they are entering the final phase on Saturday to build hype and probably pump up stock prices." Harry said. Peter's eyes widened a bit at that.

“Your dad really has a finger in every pie, doesn't he? Astronaut Norman Osborn…" Peter admitted. Harry smiled a little sadly, looking down at his tea.

“Yeah, it'll be even harder to live up to his legacy." Harry said. Peter shook his head.

“I don't think you have to run your own company for your dad to be proud of you, he probably works that hard so he can give you the life he wants you to have. Sweet car and quirky best friend and everything." Peter said. Harry made a soft sound through his closed lips.

“Well, if that is the goal he did a pretty good job. You are without a doubt the quirkiest." Harry said. Peter laughed at that, sipping from his second tea as he settled back into the chair, letting the mechanized car seat continue its massage. As he leaned back, he opened his blue eyes and gazed out of the windshield, looking up at the New York skyline. Beyond the skyscrapers and smog, high above the atmosphere were more stars than any human could count in their lifetime. There just was no telling what the future held.