in ancient India, it is written that a large spider wove the web that is our universe. She sits at the centre of the web, controlling things via the strings. In legend it is said she will one day devour the web/universe, and spin another in its place.”

https://www.ancient-origins.net/myths-legends/symbolic-spider-wove-its-way-through-history-002215

In Ovid’s Greek myth Arachne was to be hanged for challenging Minerva but the hang rope was turned into a web and she became a spider.

In a teaching hospital in central London Professor Sir Roy Paterson is king of all he surveys, challenged by none to his face, and despised as a poseur behind his back. A duplicitous, ruthless but fast and efficient surgeon with a burgeoning private practice and a specialist in breast cancer surgery. Since BAM-Ex the need for all cancer surgeries has declined rapidly especially in the public sector. In the lucrative private sector however there is a growing demand for prophylactic organ excisions despite BAM-Ex, from already Extracted women now juridically obsessed with the need to ‘go above and beyond’ in their desire to rule out any possibility of future malignancies.

Paterson assumes a Napoleonic demeanor as he self-consciously marches along the echoey domed underground tunnels between hospital wings under Taviton and Gower Street followed by his entourage of junior doctors and students. He climbs the marbled stairs between floors at pace eschewing the lifts with an air of disdain. He is wearing a starched detachable pure white collar a studded white shirt and impeccably knotted Oxford tie. A dark suit and black polished shoes completed the uniform. Though his hair is thinning on top, and he is short at 5ft four and wearing thick heavily rimmed spectacles he still oozes malice of imminent crushing sarcasm and superiority. He gives his juniors and students short shrift, abrupt and bullying. With his patients he is charm personified, a duplicitous charm as he watches closely and gazed at arousing cleavage licking his lips and clicking his tongue over the opportunities for more excision.

The loyal and devoted Victoria has become Paterson’s PA in his private and very exclusive Walpole St Breast Cancer Clinic. The clinic is frequented by visitors from all around the world anxious to be ‘fully’ cured of cancers by the best money can buy. However she is concerned. She has noticed a gradual change in Paterson’s appearance and behaviour. Once the epitome of polished he is becoming uncharacteristically slipshod. Increasingly his clothes seem to sag on him, he shuffles and appears unshaven baggy-eyed and distracted. She cannot help but notice with some disgust it must be said his almost constant erection. Please forgive me Professor but I’m worried about you you’re not looking too well. Don’t be ridiculous I’m fine. Gruffly with a stern look. She persists as she has other more serious concerns about him. I know I’m probably over anxious but, please forgive me The Extraction Professor how was it, how … have you been for The Extraction Professor? He glares through his spectacles with anger. What the fuck are you going on about you stupid dim witted moron. But …. No no blasted buts now just fuck off. But she won’t just fuck she is Rhe Cure embodied and she knows he hasn’t been Extracted, his erections are enough proof. It’s simply The Law which must be obeyed and so her warrior-duty or dharma to monitor him more closely intensively regardless of the risks to her.

She witnesses his gradual transformation, hairiness, shuffling, a strange smell, flickering gaze, hissing, clacking and eating flies, even spinning a kind of web that trails behind him.

Finally her spying maneuvers pay off and she sure that he is sexually active when She spies him through the keyhole in his study. He is bending over his latest patient who seems to be strapped to the couch, his trouser and pants are down she is tied down and he has clamped her nipples and stuffed something in her mouth. He is wearing a bra and making grunting noises whilst jerking his erect penis up and down in her lubricated cleavage waiting for the pearl necklace to appear. Which appears and Victoria jumps back vindicated and horrified.

His study contains glass cases of excised nipples – the phobic object itself – representing woman and the phallic mother. There is a portrait on the wall of his hero Vincenz Czerny who was

“one of the early surgeons to perform a breast surgery, and believed the aesthetics of cleavage to be a sign of symmetry and hence beauty.“

Vincenz Czerny 1842-1915

Paterson takes more risks and becomes more bullish then ever even as his health deteriorates. Women even Extracted women still flock to him anxious to be doubly and trebly sure they are and always will be cancer free.

Paterson accelerates his program of sexual adventures and experiments in the camps for undesirables those denied BAM-E because of their cancers, crimes poverty or ethnicity. He performs increasingly bizarre sexual acts and cancer-with-sparing sparing surgeries (even so-called underboob sparing surgery as his fetish tastes expand) and injects bits of cancerous tissue back into the wounds to incite recurrence so that he can watch the cancers come back and eventually enjoy their painful death.

His behaviour is a serious crime against the state. Without telling him Victoria determinedly reports him to the local Sexual Morality Militia who consult higher authorities who nervously refer the matter still higher. His pre-eminence (plus his knowledge of the peccadilloes of the likes of vice premier Jones) provides him with immunity. Instead with a certain inevitability it is Victoria who is picked up in a black Mariah outside the clinic, convicted of vexatious intent to disrupt the peace and sent to one of the camps for the sexually incontinent and cancer-ful, deep in the Surrey Hills where the average life expectancy is less than six months and where abuse of all kinds is rife.

The underboob cleavage had become an element of Paterson’s fetish.

“In 2008, Armand Limnander wrote in The New York Times the “underboob” (also known as “bottom cleavage” and “reverse cleavage”) was “a newly fetishized anatomical zone where the lower part of the breast meets the torso, popularized by 80s rock chicks in cutoff tank tops.”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_cleavage

I challenge you not to feel aroused at the sight of a deep cleavage. He is talking to students. His increasingly anxiety provoking dreams have him in a bloody bath fill of nipples then naked with a full-on erection being sucked by Victoria he lectures medical students on cleavage fetish practices and the joys of savage surgical destruction of woman. His mother appears in the dream as a large wet and hardened nipple chasing him over a cliff edge and his erection rapidly subsides. He wakes up even hairier and covered in more semen than ever. He sweats at memories of childhood.

His mother’s cleavage see-sawed above as she sucked him. He remembers his mother’s pet name for his penis as a child – my little nipple – as she gently pulled back his foreskin creating intense frissons of excitement all over his body, and massaged it’s tip with oil making him unbearably hard and harder still. Over time she had advanced these massages until he was bigger and hard enough to make her come as well. Sometimes she would slap his penis down mocking him for its small size. Other times she would take him in her mouth sucking him and rolling her tongue around his corona til he came. Confusing for a child unable to escape the mother with what appeared to him as nipples transformed into a dangerous dark huge empty threatening mouth. This is when his phobia of woman and especially her nipples began.

He becomes more reclusive sleeping on the floor on the corner of his private office, crawling around on all fours. and begins to secrete sticky web from his umbilicus, and eating flies. He loses his appetite and weight but his abdomen swells and swells. His skin develops fronds on the inside of his increasingly hairy arms and legs.

Aboriginal Spider symbols and Totems used in ceremonies and bound clans together

Meanwhile the premier Johnson also behaves increasingly spiderly. This becomes harder to hide and he is disappears from public view. Suspected of cancer crimes and sexual immorality he is arrested on the command of his ambitious deputy Jones a diehard premillinarial. Johnson is rapidly and secretly tried by a sexual morality truth tribunal where he of course confesses and subsequently again of course fails the Paterson orgasm test. He becomes erect and ejaculates after quite a while whilst electrodes stimulate him painfully intra-anally. As he comes Johnson’s belly distends and hundreds of spiderlets burst out in a torrent from his umbilicus, he cries out his eyes bulge his face goes crimson he vomits green fluid and dies on the table. Result Jones thinks.

We can at this stage only suspect Professor Sir Roy Paterson may be heading toward a similar fate. The spider of destiny may have him in their gaze.