Any other day, getting your mane slathered with deep, musky saliva would be a turn off. However, weirdly enough, you feel yourself getting aroused. It’s as if her scent alone acts as an aphrodisiac.

"So, can we move on now?" You ask, not sure if you want to move closer to her or far, far away.

Tenty fills her mouth with your mane hair. All the while, she keeps her gaze on you, despite fighting against her choking reflexes.

You lick your lips in anticipation, shifting on your hooves, not knowing what will come next. Teasingly, you kneel before her and whisper in her ear, "Rape me."

She spits out your mane hair and screams, “No!” One of her tentacles wags before your eyes. “That’s not how rape works.” Another tentacle whips you on your flank. “You’re doing it wrong.”

With your clenched teeth, you whisper through the pain, “I’m not even doing anything…”

Tenty wraps her tentacle around your lush tail, forming a ponytail out of it. More tentacles wrap around your mane.

You decide to play along with her game. “Oh, you just disabled all of my… tentacles. I’m now completely defenseless and at your mercy.”

Tenty leans above your head and looks you in the eyes. She grins as she squeezes hard, compressing the ponytail. "Suffer!"

You fake a pained yelp, biting your lip as you stumble around, hoping your act is convincing enough.

"Oh, there's more where that cummed from!" Tenty slides her tentacle across your body as she walks behind you.

The tentacles and their mucus smell and feel odd. It’s as if they’re somehow affecting your body and mind, more and more.

"I'm gonna make everypony call me only by my true name, Tenty Rape. And I'll start with you." She presses her hoof on the tips of your tail against the ground and leans on it more and more.

"N-nnngh-!" A moan escapes your mouth when you feel a pull on your dock. To your own surprise, it’s genuine and not faked. You shake your head in an attempt to escape the insanity. “You actually have rape in your name?” You lean back and look at her sideways.

"Rape Tenty is not what everypony should call out anymore when they see me. It's Tenty Rape! You would do well to remember it.” Her gaze pierces you. “Say it! Say my name!" She rotates her hoof, grinding your tail hair against the ground.

Even though finding her ‘torture’ somewhat humorous, you scream out loud, "Tenty Rape!" Your hooves quiver as you pant, like a true slave to this very, very odd filly.

"Yeah! That’s right. That is my name." The tentacle filly sits down, looking up in contentment. "It's what I am. One day, everypony will know it in the right order!"

She looks down to your tail before her and straightens the curved hair on it with a tentacle. "I wish I had so many tentacles as you do. Then I'd be able to give everypony what's cumming to them."

“Aren’t you a generous one?”

She wraps the tail in a tentacle and lifts it. "I think you're a good kind of mutant. I hope that stallions will rape you right in your pussy often so that you get pregnant with forced children and spawn many more good mutants who will all excel at their niche and rape plenty."

“Well, that’s a nice sentiment, I guess…”

Slipping under your tail, she looks up and observes it. "Why do you keep resting your tentacles all the time?" She shakes your tail and watches as the locks of hair stop flapping by themselves. "You act like you’re dead already. Wiggle a little! I wanna see what I'm working with here.” She looks you in the eyes ”Wrap them around me and squeeze until I tell you to stop. I want to feel how strong yours are."

You laugh inwardly at that, grinning a bit. At the same time, you don't want to cut short the admiration of your luscious mane. She is the only person who didn’t compare your mane to a bird’s nest. “Since you’ve already proven that you’re stronger than me. I wouldn’t dare to defy you.”

"Yeah! You better not." She giggles, stroking your mane with her tentacles. "I was afraid you could be one of the sicklings.”

“Sicklings?” you ask.

“When a flappy tentacle disease struck our village, a quarter of ponies had to be euthanized to contain it. Well, it was just one of the mares that got sick, but grown-ups didn't want to risk it so they culled all those that came in contact with her, just to be sure."

“You mean cured, right?”

“That’s what I said — culled. You were always useless with your tentacles, right? You're not a sickling, are you? Or are you in need of a culling?"

"N-no... I'm not a sickling." you ponder your situation, not sure whether you managed to escape the culling or have just broken your own last defense.

Author's Note

Gdoc