Tracer jolted awake and immediately fought against her restraints. Widowmaker watched her squirm from the shadows, enjoying every second of her captive's struggle. She relished the look of concentration on her face crumble to confused frustration.

"Having trouble, dear?" asked Widowmaker who stepped out from the darkened corner of the room.

"Wha-What did you do to me?"

"Don't you know? A spider's bite contains venom. In this case, a concoction of my own design. Made special, just for you. Poor sweet girl…You won't be zipping around any time soon."

Tracer's face flushed red. The Talon operative was naked from head to toe. Her blue skinned body on full display.

"Wha-Where am I?"

"The spider's web."

"What do you want with me?!"

"I want you to make me feel alive."

At first, she was confused. But the realization dawned on Tracer when she looked down at herself. She laid flat across the bed with her limbs splayed out and tied to the corners. Widowmaker had done away with her Overwatch uniform and replaced it with something a bit more to her own liking. A pair of panties with a zipper down the middle so that Widowmaker could seal her up once she's done with her. Leather straps formed a harness, which outlined Tracer's small but supple breasts. Lastly, Widowmaker's favorite addition, a tight choke collar around her neck. Emblazoned on its front was the symbol of a black widow just over her delicate throat so that all would know to who she belonged.

"No," said Tracer, her voice brittle, "you can't."

"Can't?" Widowmaker crawled onto the bed, "are you sure?"

She loomed over her captive who wriggled underneath her deliciously. They were close. Closer than they've ever been before. Widowmaker grew used to viewing Tracer through the distance of a sniper scope. But now with the goggles removed she noticed for the first time the freckles, which sprinkled the bridge of Tracer's nose and cheeks. Widowmaker leaned in for a closer look and Tracer spat in her face.

The back of Widowmaker's hand caught Tracer's left cheek, "We'll have none of that."

On any normal day she would've missed. Tracer was far too quick for that. But now she had her. After so many months of being vexed by the Overwatch operative. Time and time again. Plans foiled, missions gone awry all because of this bitch. Widowmaker slapped Tracer across the face, this time on the opposite cheek. Her hands wrapped around the girl's throat and squeezed.

Tracer's eyes bulged, and she fidgeted. Her fruitless struggling only made Widowmaker's grip tighter. After a long moment, Widowmaker released the girl. Tracer gasped and coughed, desperate for air. Widowmaker herself was out of breath. She was surprised by how quickly she lost herself in her anger. Another half a minute and she would've killed Tracer. The very person she spent so long to capture. But, oh how gratifying it sounded to hear the bitch suffocate.

Still, she didn't want to waste what she had. She was only just beginning.

Twin red marks blossomed where Widowmaker had struck. The mirror shade almost made Tracer look as if she were blushing.

"I like that look on you," smiled Widowmaker, "The beauty of symmetry."

"Fuck you."

Widowmaker shook her head, "Got to do something about that mouth of yours. Luckily, I have a few ideas."

She reached down below the bed where she kept her toys. Widowmaker groped for a moment, before taking hold of what she desired. Without even looking, she knew what is was just by the feel of it.

Widowmaker grabbed Tracer's jaw and squeezed, forcing her mouth open and her lips apart.

"Open wide now. I got a new purpose for that filthy mouth of yours."

Tracer's eyes lit up with horror upon seeing what Widowmaker wielded in her other hand. She writhed, but could not break free as Widowmaker guided the gag into her captive's mouth.

"Please," begged Tracer, "Don't-Mmmffggghh."

Widowmaker stuffed the gag past her lips, filling her mouth. Next, she fastened the strap around her head, securing the face mask in place. Widowmaker flicked the dildo jutting from the gag, which caused Tracer to wince.

"That's better."

Holding her captive's head still, Widowmaker slowly worked her way down the shaft, planting soft kisses here and there. Once reaching the base, she made her way back up before taking the tip of the dildo into her mouth. It was of moderate girth, but long. Without breaking eye contact with Tracer, Widowmaker slid her lips down taking it deeper and deeper. She stopped only when it tickled the back of her throat. From there she sucked, allowing drool to dribble down the rest of the way. Some of which, dripped onto Tracer's face, much to the girl's dismay.

Tracer mumbled unintelligibly. Her muffled pleas made Widowmaker impatient. She pulled free from the dildo. Seeing that it was properly lubed, she stood over her captive and eased herself down onto it. A pleasurable groan escaped her lips when it entered. Once again, Tracer tried to pull away, but it was a tight fit which she could not break. And Widowmaker had no intention of letting go.

She bobbed up and down. Slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed. With each descending thrust Widowmaker slid further down the lengthy dildo. The bed squeaked as she bounced. Her moans of pleasure mixed with Tracer's smothered cries to form an exquisitely discordant symphony. The rhythm took on a heated frenzy. Burgeoning with every vigorous bounce. Swelling to the point of bursting.

Widowmaker threw back her head and arched her back, releasing an unbecoming squeal. Her whole body shuddered with delight. Sweat slicked her skin. She collapsed to her knees, taking in the dildo all the way up to its base. With heavy panting breathes she looked down at Tracer beneath her. Tears outlined the edges of her eyes. The blood had drained from the sweet girl's face, sharpening the contract between the freckles and her alabaster skin. A twisted, broken expression Widowmaker would savor forever.

"We're not done," said Widowmaker through shallow breathes.

With the dildo still inside her, Widowmaker spun around. On hands and knees, she crawled. Tracer wasn't as curvy as Widowmaker, but she had a lithe body. Fit and able. The muscles of her thighs tensed when caressed by Widowmaker's fingers. As careful as she might load her sniper, Widowmaker pinched the tab of the zipper and pulled it all the way down to the bottom stop. To her surprise, Tracer was sopping wet underneath. And not just from the heat of being trapped in the tight black panties.

"My my…What would people think if they saw you like this?"

"Mmmffghh," replied Tracer.

"Hmmm? I didn't quite get that, dear."

Tracer continued to moan incomprehensibly into the gag much to Widowmaker's delight. She glanced back over her shoulder to look down at the helpless girl once again.

"You want to be a good girl, don't you? I think you do. You can struggle and squirm all you like. Lie to yourself, lie to me, but your body reveals the truth of your desires. Just look at it…Positively dripping. You crave what only I can provide. But only good girls get treats. If you want to be a good girl you must first submit yourself to me, your mistress."

"Mmmff, mmmfghh!" Tracer failed to form words.

"Shhhhh, all you have to do is blink. Blink and I know you understand."

Tracer glared at Widowmaker, the last sparks of defiance flickering out behind her eyes like the dying coals of a hearth. Her cute face flushed red with shame, but she blinked nonetheless. When her eyelids peeled back all the fight was swept away, but it was no less aggression. Her defiance was merely replaced with a feral passion. Tracer gazed up at her mistress with a pleading look of urgency.

No words were needed to convey her desire. Widowmaker licked her lips and went down on Tracer. No teasing or fooling around. Widowmaker ravished Tracer's clit like she was born to do it. The British girl bucked her hips in response. Clearly, she hadn't had anyone as experienced as Widowmaker before. The dominatrix was forced to hold her slave down in order to continue.

Before long Widowmaker jolted as an involuntary wave of pleasure coursed throughout her body. She glanced back to see Tracer thrusting her head forward, shoving the dildo as far as she could.

Curious, Widowmaker raised her hips up some so that the whole of her ass wasn't resting just above her captive's face. Tracer compensated by forcing her head farther up, as high as the restraints would allow. Her neck strained with the effort to please her mistress. Every time her head poked up, Widowmaker could spot the black widow symbol of the collar.

"Good girl," exclaimed Widowmaker, "Good behavior won't go unrewarded."

Widowmaker returned to pleasuring her captive with renewed vigor.