I take a look around and my libido can barely process the scene. It's like the hentai tab in my bookmarks came to life. A strong, naked, middle-aged man wearing only an open lab coat stands directly above me on a cement pedestal rising out of the fountain. Eight forearm-thick metal tentacles protrude from where one saggy dick should be. The metal is slippery and coiled to large, cock-headed tips at the ends. White fluid drips from each appendage. The guy is making a sound that I can only describe as "orgasming maniacally".
All around me, naked 18+ year olds are suspended in the air in various states of tentacled entanglement. A goth girl in fishnets and a black corset is getting absolutely skewered by two slithering...tentacocks? Two sorority girls deepthroat a double-ended dildo whilst two more tentacocks from behind piston the blondes closer and closer to a kiss. Directly above my head, another tentacock has uncoiled into several smaller tentacles and wrapped itself around the arms, legs, and throat of a fitness instructor, giving me a gorgeous view of her spread-eagle holes being filled. There's even a stoner rock guy being hung upside down by his balls and reamed.
Floppy is at full alert and drooling precum into the fountain. Juices drip onto my face and I catch a drop on my tongue. I take a moment to get my wits about me and uh, capture this memory for my spank bank. Wow, Floppy, you taste a lot better than usual. Has your diet improved? I've been eating out a lot lately. And most of that was pussy. Wait a second. This isn't my cum. It's the juices from the fitness instructor above me. She's turned on. And nobody's screaming. Everyone's...moaning.
This isn't a hostage situation. It's...an orgy.
Doctor Cocktopuss begins to laugh above my head, his voice catching only for a moment when the sorority girls finally gag on a kiss and cum bursts from their backsides. "Welcome to the party, Futable. I hope you don't mind that we've...hrnngghh...started without you. "
I suddenly realize there's a crowd of mall hotties all over the food court. Something's off, though. They're all clawing and writhing in various states of undress, sucking and humping each other in heaps. A low, clit-tingling hum I hadn't noticed before seems to vibrate through my bones.
A moaning, throaty chant begins: COCK - TO - PUSS! COCK - TO - PUSS!
"You hear that, dickgirl? That's the sound of *devotion*. These people want more than some futa freak fumbling at their bra straps like a homeschooled Mormon. They want a sex symbol that delivers! They want the ultimate sex machine!!" Goth girl's eyes roll back in ecstasy as the jizz her throat and snatch can't swallow oozes from her edges. "And that's what I've given them. That's what I have become! My sex appeal eclipses yours eight times over, dickgirl! I have usurped your throne! I am the sex symbol that this town deserves!!"
"DON'T CALL ME DICKGIRL!!" I whirl around and grab his last tentacock just as it's about to sneak-strike me from behind. I fly into the air with it, yelling, "I am the best of both sexes! I am the ultimate woman and the ultimate man! My genders and preferences know no acronym! I don't know how you got all these people horny for your little tentacle porn exhibition, but I won't stop until I've confirmed that everyone here gave KNOWING CONSENT!!"
Just as I'm about to slam a tentacock down his throat, that low hum buzzes unbearably through me. My whole body freezes and I fall to the ground. Dazed, my limbs move all on their own until I'm face-down, ass-up on mall linoleum.
"What's wrong, dickgirl? Having trouble performing??" Cocktopuss shrieks as if my helplessness brought him to the edge of orgasm. "You are weak. Only I can satisfy the masses. These people worship me. And so will you, soon enough!" Stoner rock guy yelps as a tentacock slurps from his asshole, his own cum blasting from blue balls all across his face and outstretched tongue before being unceremoniously unclamped.
"Though I must confess," Cocktopuss whispers. "I had a little help gaining their devotion." A thick tentacock snakes past my lips and down my helpless throat until I'm lifted like a skewer waist-high into the air. "Do you feel it, dickgirl? Your mind says 'no', but your body says *'yes'...* Hypnotizing, isn't it?"
The sound of stilettos echoes off the linoleum. A shadow looms from the entrance of the Victoria's Secret at the end of the food court. A thin, lacy dominatrix with jet-black hair and a whip strides towards the fountain. "We finally meet," she purrs. "Do you like my outfit? I picked it out just for the occasion." She twirls around like a professional runway model. I oggle her slim, fit figure almost custom molded into Dark Angel lingerie stolen from the Victoria's Secret display. If my throat weren't stuffed with tentacle dick, I would've shouted 'dayum!'
"You've been a naughty, naughty girl, Futable. I see the good doctor has kindly pegged that loud mouth of yours. You'll speak when spoken to from now on. Oh yes, you'll learn your place soon enough. Hypnosis or no." I gag and splutter as she tips my chin up with one finger until my teary eyes meet her gaze. "You may call me The Hypnotrix. And your safe-word is: Master."
