Lay On The Table (Futa path)

You shrug and hop onto the table, which is weirdly more comfortable than you would've thought. Some kind of space age padded material. You look around the room, waiting for something to happen. Someone is definitely watching you from somewhere, but you see no windows or cameras or anything.

"Uh, what now?" You call out to the empty room, sitting up on the table. Almost as if on cue, blue smoke begins filling the room from vents that appeared out of nowhere. You try to resist breathing in, knowing from your training not to inhale strange gasses, but... it smells good. You have a hard time resisting, and eventually you take a big gasp and full your lungs with the smoke. You do it again, not sensing any bad effects. Then you start breathing faster, enjoying the fruity feminine aroma filling the room. It's almost like you can't get enough. You breathe faster and faster, feeling lightheaded. An intense pressure begins to build on your chest and you fall back, laying on the table.

In that moment, you realize you're rock hard. Your stiff cock pointing straight up in the air and practically pulsing with the need to be touched, but your arms suddenly feel numb. You feel almost like your strapped to the table, and with this growing weight on your chest, you can barely move.

You groan and call out for help, your voice sounding soft and breathy. You're unable to shout, but you close your eyes and picture one of those busty guards coming back to stroke your cock or something. You can almost feel it... soft hands on your cock... huge breasts squeezing your shaft... bringing the head of your cock into a luscious pair of lips. You take a deep breath of the pink gas and realize you're about to cum, totally hands-free. Just the fantasy of those powerful women in their robes pinning you down and having their way with you.

A voice echoes in the room. You're not sure if you're imagining it or not.

"Do you submit, man-thing? Say you submit."