Viper Girl

The Villainess Monologues:

Viper Girl

I pity you, Spiderman. So earnest. So devoted to fantasies like “justice” and “fairness”. And then you come up against a gal like me who won’t play fair. Who makes friends with your Mary Jane, then kidnaps her, then rapes her with a black rubber dildo until she agrees to lure you into my trap. Who sends you a tape of MJ pleading for you to pay the ransom, along with a videotape of the rape and, just to get you really interested, the dildo itself, covered with MJ’s blood and juices. Who makes sure the police commissioner “forgets” to put on the surveillance you requested at the drop-off site for the ransom money. The rest was easy – a trap door, a long downard-curving tube coated with a polymer that your webbing can’t stick to, and here you are, sixty feet below ground, tied spread-eagle to a stone wall with elastic cords that get tighter the harder you struggle against them. Don’t bother trying to break them – they’re made of high-intensity fibres specially engineered to counteract your Spidey-strength. And I took those web-shooting things off of your wrists, of course. Right across from you kneels your bound, naked, defiled girlfriend, staring at you wide-eyed in shock and terror.

You still don’t recognize me, do you, Peter. But that’s no surprise. We only spent three years working side-by-side in the biochemistry lab at the university. You were too busy dating those cute cheerleaders and models to notice your shy little lab partner, with her braces, thick glasses and frizzy hair. After an afternoon working side-by-side with you, I’d go back to my dorm room and spend all night masturbating, and I’d come over and over and over again, whispering your name. Eventually I tired of waiting for you, so I irradiated a black widow spider and left it under your lab bench. Did you really think that was an accident? Well imagine my surprise when, a few weeks later, not only weren’t you dead, but I read in the newspapers about a superhero who could crawl up walls. At that moment I swore that I would spend my every waking hour finding a way to destroy you, Spiderman. And I swore that, when I finally did so, I would cause you as much pain as possible, in the hope that you might, just possibly, feel a tiny fraction of the pain that you caused me.

So I shut myself in my lab for six weeks and analyzed all the animal toxins I could find. I decided to breed the middle eastern saw-scaled viper, whose bite is six times as dangerous as a cobra’s. It took me another three years to develop a breed that produced a hemotoxic venom so strong that a single drop causes a painful death in ten minutes. I also synthesized a fast-acting antidote. Six years to the day after I first saw you, I irradiated my favorite viper, lay naked on my bed, and placed her between my breasts. She slithered down my belly, then struck, and a moment later I injected myself with the antidote. The shock of the poison entering my bloodstream, followed by the pulse of the antidote, gave me the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had. Ever since then I’ve been Viper Girl.

The snake bite stimulated my glands to produce the viper’s venom in massive quantities. I have so much venom inside me that I would die instantly were I not receiving regular injections of antidote from the tubes strapped to my body. The interplay of the toxin and the antidote in my tissues makes me feel constantly stimulated, slippery, alert. I am fast and agile, and I prefer the night.

Anyone who gets a drop of my bodily fluids in their system dies in a matter of minutes. I could bite my victims, but I prefer to lick my fingernail and scratch their skin – so much more discreet. I am also able to kill men by having sex with them. Soon after becoming Viper Girl, I started working as a high-class prostitute. I would fuck wealthy, powerful men, then watch them writhing on the bed as the venom entered their bloodstream and filled their bodies with searing pain. Then I would quietly offer them the antidote, in exchange for obedience. I explained that, from that day forward, if they ever stopped obeying me, not too long afterwards they would feel that telltale scratch on the back of the neck as they walked down the sidewalk or ate in a restaurant or stood in an elevator. Then I would give them orders. I would order them to give me access to their bank accounts and personal files. I would order them to pimp me to other powerful men. My circle of slaves grew and grew.

I recruited the other girls at the escort agency to become vipers as well. I had no trouble convincing them that the thrill of unlimited power would be well worth the danger. I now have a whole nest of Viper Girls working for me. And since only I can provide them with the antidote that keeps them alive, the Viper Girls have no choice but to follow my every command. With my Viper Girls and my network of male slaves, I control this city. The police commissioner is now under my control, as is the mayor and half the city council, and the city’s business and financial elite.With you out of the way, the world will be at my mercy.

Now it is time for you to die, Spiderman. But first, I want to crush your soul, just as you crushed mine every day for three long years. I’m going to lick the lovely Mary Jane’s sweet, red-fringed cunt, and together we will watch her die a horrible, painful death. Then I’ll cut open your costume to free that luscious dick of yours. Then I’ll straddle you, fuck you, and kill you. And I’ll say goodbye to the weak, awkward, lovesick schoolgirl I used to be. Once your death has extinguished my last spark of human sentiment, I will be free. Free to pursue my destiny as a cold, bloodless destroyer of men.

Comments welcome: bhc917 (at) hotmail (dot) com

Photos: Kate Moss, photographed by Patrick de Marchelier.