Hucows are prone to hurt themselves during the transformation, Andromeda told me. The stretchy silk bindings prevent permanent damage.
Razul’s arms tighten around me.
Sylvus reaches out.
Razul steps back.
The Arachnoid shakes his head. “You old beetle. I don’twanther. Unless you sprouted fangs recently, need I remind you, you can’t do this yourself.”
“Make a syringe. Give it to me.”
Sylvus gives a patient sigh. “You know I can control the dosage so much better when I do it directly. She’ll experience less discomfort. Do you really want her in pain because you’re thinking with your cock?”
Razul makes a low, wary noise.
Sylvus flashes a fang-filled smile. “You trust me, remember? I’m very trustworthy.” Wicked mischief glints in his eight eyes.
It makes me curl tighter into Razul’s chest.
“You’re scaring her,” he growls.
The Arachnoid softens. “Well, how about the choice is hers? For the dosing method and the bondage. But you should both be sure you understand the consequences.”
“Give me a syringe and then leave,” Razul says.
Sylvus looks at me. “How good are you at taking direction?”
“Um… pretty good?”
“How about when deliriously horny?”
I hesitate. “Less good.”
“You’ll want restraints, then.”
Sylvus begins to spin silk, and Razul growls, low and threatening.
I startle.
The arachnid raises a brow at Razul. “Nowyou’rescaring her. I’m weaving restraints foryouto apply. Make sure you do a good job, or you’ll be responsible for any pain she experiences.” His legs work blindingly fast, and he tosses a pile of silk loops at Razul’s feet.
“Celeste, do you want me to bite you? Or do you want Razul to administer an injection? It’s very important that he gets the majority of the venom into a blood vessel, not muscle. Intramuscular injection can cause lingering burning pain for hours or days. I’m incredibly precise. That said, Razul does all the veterinary care for his herd. He’s very medically skilled.”
Hesitant, I look up at Razul. He takes a deep breath, and his grip softens slightly. “It’s up to you.”
I glance back over at the Sylvus, and the sight of his eight glossy black eyes makes me press instinctively into Razul.
“The syringe is fine,” I murmur. “I can handle some pain.”
“I won’t hurt you,” Razul says quietly, though his wary eyes stay on the Arachnoid.
Sylvus heads over to the wall of equipment and pulls out the body of a very large syringe.
“Alright, Raz. You know the last thing I need.”
“What?”
Sylvus stays on the other side of the room. “I need to smell her.”
