Mercy's Spider Slave: Chapter Two

Each step that Mercy took elicited a wet squelch from inside her shoes, and Mercy was glad the sidewalks on her way to work were fairly sparse. She had been so caught up in tormenting her new toy that she had skipped most of her daily routine, from brushing her teeth to checking the weather. It had been fair the day before so she had slipped into a crop-top sweater and skinny jeans without much thought, but just seconds into her stroll to work she realized just how hard the sun was beating down on her, sweat was soon pouring off her body in rivers. Her limited time to reach work and the humiliating thought of going back to redress herself after taunting the bug under her foot made her soldier on, and she took some solace in the fact that her unwillingly insole must be suffering far worse. Her prediction was spot-on, Widow was practically boiling alive from the foul sweat that washed over her constantly. The heat was also causing her to stick to a different surface, as swampy as the insole was growing the space directly beneath her was being shielded from the sweat. This in turn brought her to be more and more plastered to the bare foot of her captor, and she was smothered even more by it's slimy embrace. She felt like she had been subjected to this hell for days, but it actually only took Mercy a little less than an hour to shuffle through the door of her office, wiping the sweat off of her face with a weary sigh. 

Relieved to have finally arrived at her air-conditioned office, Mercy kicked off one of her moist shoes, scrunching her nose at the brutal stench that wafted from it the moment her feet left them. She grimaced even more at the visible stain that her foot left behind as she shifted it slightly , she was starting to wish she had just stuffed the damn bug inside her sock instead of foregoing them for the day. Her mind now back on her toy, a sly grin crossed her face as she approached her desk without kicking off her other shoe. With a wet slap she propped her right foot on top of her desk, and began loudly musing about how strange it was her tiny plaything had disappeared.  She waited a moment for the frantic squirming she expected from the panicking bug but couldn't feel anything, a bit annoyed she reluctantly kicked off her other shoe and swapped that foot onto the desk. Her displeasure faded once she saw how flattened the poor spider had become on her stinking sole, though she still teased it sarcastically about it's lack of motion. Ready to get on with her work however she slowly peeled the living tattoo off her foot with her thumb and middle finger, playfully squeezing the now fidgeting bug while she mulled over where to put her next. She made her mind quickly and brought her toy over to her office chair, pressing it down on the cold leather with a single finger. As Mercy monologued about her next "game" for the shrunken sniper, Widow fought and shouted with all she had at her sadistic giantess. Mercy's finger didn't budge a centimeter however and in a panic verging on mania Widow bit the soft flesh in front of her with as much strength as she could, but wasn't even able to draw blood...

After Widow had torn a thin scrap of skin off of Mercy's finger, both parties fell silent for a long, tense moment. Mercy was the first one to speak, and her voice trembled in rage as she stared down at the worthless trash that had dared to BITE HER. Under that murderous glare even Widow's pleas for mercy grew meeker, as did her struggles. But at the sight of the bubbling glob of spit that was dribbling out Mercy's giant lips, her energy returned with a frantic fervor. Mercy held back her missile for several seconds, letting her panicking target tire itself out before removing her finger and hocking her spit directly onto it. The force of the condensed saliva knocked Widow flat, and clung to her like a slimy blanket. She was forced to fight with all she had just to free her head and breathe, all while her cruel tormentor chuckled to herself while she watched her efforts. Mercy let her toy flounder for a bit before rising to her feet, taunting her a final time before turning and hovering her colossal booty over her new seat cushion. Without any warning she dropped herself into the chair, smirking at the creak that her weight elicited from it. Widow felt like a planet had fallen on top of her, the weight was far worse than the pounding foot within the shoe had been. Worse though was the sweat, while it had splattered somewhat from the impact it was still pooled on her. She was forced to endure not just the painful crushing but being waterboarded by the toxic spit she had been tortured with on a whim, which was quickly mixing with the sweat seeping through her captors pants. Mercy was actually a little annoyed to be sitting in it as well, but felt like the hell her toy must be wallowing in made it worth it.

Almost subconsciously Mercy twisted and grinded to make herself more comfortable, apathetic of the pain it caused the tiny bug beneath her. The squirming she felt through her pants faded away, and while she would normally be upset with her toy going limp she had plenty of work to do this morning, and quickly put her pitiful plaything out of her mind entirely. Despite how much she would like to be however Widow wasn't actually unconscious, she was just so flattened against the massive ass that was demolishing her that she could barely move. Plus while the office the two were in was blissfully cooler than outside, the temperature between the sticky leather seat and Mercy's leather pants was still sweltering. Widow could feel the steam radiating off her giant captor, and the pool of sweat she was still soaking in was practically boiling. Hours passed with her busy giantess still forgetting her very existence, while her unwilling cushion continued to bake beneath her plump rear. She was finally granted a brief reprieve when Mercy stood up for a moment to reach for something, Widow peeled off the cheek she was tattooed to but unfortunately plunged right back onto the chair. She didn't even have time to run before an avalanche of booty crashed onto her at the speed of a gunshot. Mercy took note of how close her chair had come to tipping over, but failed to realize how her action had also pancaked a pitiful spider. She scooted her chair back towards her desk to get on with her day, the muffled groans of torment from below continuing to fall on deaf ears.

Widow barely clung onto consciousness as her hellish torment beneath Mercy's steamy ass continued, with the giantess herself having long forgotten she was sitting on the shrunken woman. Hours crawled by as the poor bug continued to suffer under the crushing weight and suffocating atmosphere, before the muffled sounds of conversation reached her ears. She had grown accustomed enough to the changes her size had on incoming acoustics to make out a few words the two behemoths were spouting, enough to recognize the second voice as her frequent rival Tracer. Fear shot through her at the thought of the ditzy brit learning of her current predicament, if the usually peaceful doctor indulged in such cruelty with her she could only imagine what the time traveler would do to her with their checkered past. Thankfully she heard no mention of her name, and Mercy showed no indication of standing up and retrieving her. Any relief she felt at that development vanished however as a low rumbling sound suddenly deafened her, the identity of which she deduced mere seconds before a torrential gust of toxic air buffeted against her. The force of the ass blast was akin to a tornado, and the stench so intense that it knocked the sturdy bug comatose near instantly, a small blessing for the long suffering spider. The two chatting Overwatch continued to wrap up their friendly chat while Widow was dead to the world, with Tracer making a snarky comment regarding Talon just as she was leaving. Mercy bid her well before scrunching her face in confusion, something Lena had just said had resonated with her, she felt like she was forgetting something...

It didn't take Mercy long to to remember her unwilling cushion, but to her surprise her tiny toy was nowhere to be seen once she had exited her chair. As she crouched down to try and spot the fleeing insect she suddenly recalled what had happened that morning, when the pathetic thing had glued to her foot after just an hour inside her shoe. A few minutes of blindly grasping her own butt finally rewarded her with the flattened bug, who was sadly unconscious and failed to awake no matter how much she shook her. Disappointed, Mercy dropped it haphazardly onto her desk and settled in to wait for it to regain consciousness. She had initially planned to press it for information after subjecting it to so long under her sizable rear before handing her in to her superiors, but if the annoying speck made her wait too long she just might have to keep having fun with her a bit longer...