You are in tangles. The web that you've woven has become too tight. You're trapped. Bounded together, yet trying to hold on strong. You are very much compacted. Stuck. Unable to move and change position. Lie after lie. It's tense. This spider has spun it's last web and you are now constricted. The poison seeps in.
I tugged at the ropes around my wrists, the material burning against my skin. --- well, maybe not entirely medieval, but I couldn't get a better picture.... MLx