Welcome to

The chaos was instant. A three-alarm fire roared from a high-rise, but the real problem was the source: The Sandman and Electro, having a seriously destructive disagreement over a stolen prototype generator in the middle of 5th Avenue. Classic Tuesday.

“Okay, new plan,” I quipped, landing beside MJ on a gargoyle. “You handle Sparky. I’ll talk some sense into Sandy.”

“Sparky?” she asked, her white-lensed mask tilting.

“You’ll get used to the nicknames,” I said, already launching a web. “Go for the conduits! Water pipes, lampposts—anything to ground him out!”

I swung toward Sandman, who was forming into a giant fist. “Flint! Buddy! Still using the whole ‘fist’ thing? It’s a little on the nose!”

Meanwhile, MJ was a streak of living shadow. She moved with an instinctive grace that stunned me. When Electro unleashed a torrent of lightning, she didn’t just dodge. The symbiote stretched, forming a massive, concave shield that absorbed the blast, the energy crackling over its surface before dissipating harmlessly.

“Whoa,” Electro spat, confused. “You’re not Spider-Man!”

“Got a upgrade,” MJ’s voice echoed, deeper, layered with a predatory purr. A tendril shot out from her back, snagging a fire hydrant and wrenching it open. A geyser of water erupted, dousing Electro and shorting him out with a satisfying fizzle.

On my end, I was busy webbing Sandman’s sandy form to a city bus. “It’s over, Marko! You’re just creating a beach where there’s no ocean!”

“I just wanted a quiet life, Spider-Man!” he grumbled, struggling against the webs.

“Join a book club! It’s cheaper!”

Within minutes, it was over. Sandman contained, Electro a groaning pile of damp disappointment. The fire department moved in on the building. Civilians cheered. We landed on a nearby rooftop, the adrenaline still humming in our veins.

I pulled my mask off, grinning like an idiot. “MJ, that was… you were…”

“Spectacular?” she finished, her own mask melting away to reveal her beaming face, flushed with victory. “I know! I can’t believe it! We… we just did that!”

“You were amazing,” I said, my voice full of awe. “The way you moved, the way you thought… you didn’t need me to tell you what to do.”

“I told you,” she said, stepping closer. The black suit receded to her shoulders like a cowl. “I don’t want you to have to fight them alone anymore. The Sinister Six, anyone. I want to be there. With you.”

The sheer love and determination in her eyes hit me harder than any punch from Rhino. I pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her against the familiar weave of my own suit.

“I love you,” I whispered into her hair.

“I love you too, you big sap,” she murmured back, her hands sliding under the edge of my mask.

We sank onto the sun-warmed gravel of the rooftop, a tangle of red-and-blue and living black. The city sprawled below us, but all we saw was each other. Our kisses were hungry, fueled by victory and a newfound, powerful connection.

Then her hands went to my waist, deftly untying my web-shooters and pulling my suit down to my knees. The cool air was a shock, followed by the warmer shock of her gloved hand.

“MJ,” I breathed, my head falling back.

“Shhh,” she whispered. “Just enjoy the view, Tiger.”

That’s when I saw it. The suit on her body began to… swell. Not just change shape, but amplify. Her breasts grew, pushing against the black material until they were monumental, pillowy softness straining the symbiote’s form. Her hips widened, her rear becoming impossibly round and prominent. She was becoming… dummy THICC.

And her mask reformed. The smooth white eyes narrowed, and a wide, jagged mouth full of sharp white teeth split across the lower half of her face. A long, prehensile tongue, slick and black, slithered out, tasting the air.

I stared, my brain short-circuiting between sheer terror and overwhelming arousal. “Wow. MJ… you’re kinda… cute.”

The new fanged mouth curved into a blush. “You’re such a dork, Peter,” she said, her voice now a hypnotic blend of her own sweet tone and a low, guttural rumble.

She leaned down, and that long, incredible tongue swept out, wrapping around my length with shocking gentleness. It was warm and impossibly skilled, exploring every inch of me, and I groaned, my fingers digging into the rooftop gravel. This was beyond any fantasy.

She took me into her mouth, the tongue and her lips working in a symphony of pleasure that had me seeing stars. It was intense, blissful, and utterly otherworldly.

When I could take no more, she rose above me, the symbiote parting between her massive thighs to reveal a glistening, welcoming darkness. She sank down onto me with a low, satisfied moan that shook both our bodies, and I was lost in her, in the impossible feel of her new form, the sheer power and heat of her.

She rode me with a primal rhythm, her huge breasts swaying, her new form strong enough to lift me with her. I clutched at her hips, my thrusts meeting hers.

“So good, Peter,” she growled, her fanged mouth curling into a smile.

Then, as a new wave of wicked inspiration hit her, she began to change again. Her form shifted, morphed, her curves softening into the mature, voluptuous body of a random, gorgeous MILF, her face that of a seductive stranger. The surprise made me thrust harder, faster.

Just as I felt myself nearing the edge, she changed once more. Her skin darkened, her features aging gracefully into a beautiful, wise-looking black woman with silver streaks in her hair, her body still unbelievably lush and powerful. The juxtaposition was utterly shattering.

“Oh, GOD, MJ!” I cried out, my control completely gone.

We came together in a crashing wave, a symphony of groans and cries that echoed off the rooftop vents. The symbiote pulsed around us, drinking in the energy, the connection.

We lay there afterward, panting, tangled together in a heap of limbs and slowly settling symbiote. Her form slowly returned to its enhanced "She-Venom" state, all curves and fangs and a very content-looking long tongue.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” I finally gasped.

“Believe it, Tiger,” she purred, her tongue gently licking a stripe up my cheek. “That was… wow.”

She nuzzled into my neck. “I’m exhausted. Carry me home?”

I chuckled, pulling my suit back up. “Your chariot awaits, my monstrously thicc goddess.”

I swept her into my arms—no small feat given her new proportions, but my spider-strength handled it easily. She giggled, wrapping her arms around my neck, her head resting on my shoulder.

Then, with my wife—my partner, my Venomess—cradled against me, I shot a web and swung out into the dusk, carrying my whole world home.

TO BE CONTINUED…