Sweet Stickiness

I love the darling spirits I summon to be my friends. Yes, even the spirits of shadow. Some of my nether world friends have an ability that the long faced professors call binding. Binding prevents and hinders people from being able to move. I so wanted to have a spell that would do the same thing. Appropriate for me, she who walks with spider. 
I summoned those who have this power to learn from them through observation. I first experiemented with those annoying prats. There is no reason for them to say inappropriate things to me. Just because I am God's Gift who as a human is better looking than almost every elf on the planet. There I stalked them along the lane where they race their motorbikes. When they came around the corner at a high speed, my spirit bound their bikes to the pavement. Oh how they flew through the air. I think one broke his fool neck. Too bad. 
Next there were all the toads at the pond. Nasty fat trollish toads eating my precious spiders. The spirit froze them to the pond. Some drowned, others were eaten by birds. Do not think me to be cruel. I just love the spiders and the beautiful webs they spin between the marsh grasses.
Having observed the power of the spirits through assensing astral space, I gathered my materials to create a sympathic representation of the spell. I then projected to astral space and met the watcher at the gate to the metaplanes where I would find and learn the spell by communing with She who is Spider.
The watcher as always was insulting and rude. It is the watcher's nature I suppose. To embarrass us and force us to face a secret of ourselves we would rather not. The watcher showed me how sad Stumpy would be and how he would feel betrayed if he knew what I on occasion did with his mate Jacen. 
She who is Spider did not make my task at hand easy. She tested me to learn of my dedication to her. A trail of combat. A trail of persuasion. A trial of intellect. Final a trial of skill. She who is Spider then imparted the gift of her knowledge upon me.
Later having firegolds in the snug of the pub, The Duke of New York, The Boy Debois was yet again a flippant sod. I silenced his second syllable with my spell. Oh the laughter from Stumpy and Jacen as the sweet stickiness of my web caused the warm burn of the firegold to run golden down The Boy Debois's face.