Across the Universe (kitsune_kiyoshi) wrote in gutterdump,
Across the Universe

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Tentacle Magic

Do you remember Yamachi-Tek's Shoku-Jutsu? Those personal beauty gadgets they used to import from Japan? ‘Popular Mechanics’ did a frontispiece on them once. They were these metal helmet things that would attach to a barber chair. Kinda like those old-fashioned hair dryers from grandma's beauty parlor right? 'Cept they were equipped with hundreds of retracting metal tentacles. The Japs used to market 'em to the spa and salon crowd mostly, but you used to find a couple in unisex barbershops. Real spiffy stuff. The Shoku-Jutsu unit (which literally translated means 'Tentacle Magic') would fit over your head like a hair dryer. Bristly little feelers on the inside would do all the deep follicle work, clean out any lice or dandruff or whatever nasty shit you got up there, secrete shampoo AND conditioner in one, lather, rinse, repeat. While all this is going on upstairs, ropey little metal tentacles with attachments burst out of the outside of the head to clip your toenails, trim your nose hairs, pop your pimples, pluck your eyebrows, bleach your teeth, inject botox, manicure, pedicure, lift, moisturize, exfoliate, curl, air dry, serve you espresso with biscotti... and my favorite... give you a old fashioned straight razor shave complete with hot suds and steaming towels, yeah man, that was the stuff. Of course it didn't do all that shit at once, no, they still charged separate for every 'service' in addition to your standard haircut and shampoo. One such perk for 50 clams extra was that you could get what they called the 'naughty tentacle massage' (assuming you were of the legal age according to local laws and regulations of course). That right there was their red-hot number one seller. Man... Shoku-Jutsu could touch you in ways human hands only dream of. It's like they could sense every knot, every rough patch on your body and smooth it out like nothing, anticipating every twitch, sensing every nerve, every sensation... higher... lower... harder... faster... it’s like they could read your mind.

Of course, the phenomena didn't last long. As months went on, the Shoku-Jutsu became increasingly unreliable. First, there were some incidents with the shaving program, including some ugly decapitations. Next, there was that infamous out of court settlement from that woman who somehow had her hair rinsed with scalding hot espresso. These were considered minor kinks in the device and were supposedly smoothed out in the next patch. For some reason however, the 1.2 patch was when things really started to get weird. Schoolgirls would go in to get pink highlights, braids, perm, and a manicure. The Shoku-Jutsu would do their thing normally until they were alone with the customer, then go berserk. They'd wrap the girls from head to toe in tentacles, pin their arms back, whoop and wail spouting sudsy water from their tips like a renegade firehose. Eventually all of their tentacles would gang fuck her... it was an awful sight I tell you. Hundreds of tentacles oozing body lotion wriggle against the skin, their tips madly force-fuck every orifice with terrible ‘schlirp’s until all of them finally orgasm some kind of warm mincing gel all over the screaming girl. These were denounced as 'Isolated yet quite unfortunate incidents' in Yamachi-Tek press releases, and blamed on 'unnamed pranksters'. The incidents became more and more frequent and more and more violent. Often the police would have to be called into a health spa to shoot down a crazed drove of Shoku-Jutsu, completely entwined around their prey, their gagged screams bubbling up through gargled waves of sweet smelling mousse and chamomile creme. The malfunctioning units were shot and terminated and disassembled and analyzed by our top scientists. They told us that there was absolutely nothing in their inherent programming to explain such behavior. It was like a collective madness, they told us, like a deep-down primal hunger in those things like they needed to fuck schoolgirls on an instinctual level. It was unlike anything they had ever seen in a machine.

The shit hit the fan at a queer salon in San Francisco. When the authorities arrived at the place, the floor was slick already with blood and body lotion. Dead fags were strung all over the waiting room, hanging sometimes a hundred feet up on the rafters swinging and dangling like grotesque open-jawed mannequins, tentacles coiled around their snapped necks. Even more horrifying was when they finally found the machines responsible. Somehow they had 'merged' with their victims, completely entwined around their heads while their (no longer breathing or living, doctors discovered) bodies rolled through soapy puddles on the floor, twitching spastically and screaming in angry, disjointed Japanese. When the victims were inspected more closely, it was revealed that microscopic never before discovered tentacles in the back of the device had actually bored into the rear of their skulls and had managed to infiltrate nerve endings in the brain like fiber optics. HOMESEC decided that now this was shit was just too weird... and the ownership, operation, sale, and distribution of Shoku-Jutsu became illegal in America.

As you can imagine, they now became even more popular than ever, flourishing in underground sex shops and immoral massage parlors. For some time they were THE product on the black market, reaching costs of up to 25,000 American per unit at the peak of their popularity. HOMESEC spent a hell of a time tracking down and destroying the buggers and prosecuting those responsible for their sale and distribution (Incidentally, persons in the highest levels of Shoku-Jutsu smuggling rings were almost always mindless zombies ‘merged’ with a unit whose brains were controlled by the devices). The black market varieties were even more dangerous and unethical in their application of services. After a while, all units stopped obeying commands entirely. They all sprung themselves from their storage boxes spontaneous and sprouted reinforced jointed tentacles braced like spider legs for walking. You see thousands of them, walking down the street like daddy-long-legs, tramping through shopping malls, public parks, through classrooms and grocery stores... Causing horrible delays and gigantic traffic accidents... Don’t get me wrong, it wasn't a big, chaotic scramble with spiders going every which way like ants from a magnifying glass ... no. They were all herding in the same direction as if led by some unseen hive mind. HOMESEC tried to downplay the event. They figured that the Shoku-Jutsu were finally leaving us and that the streets would be safer for it. HOMESEC (as always) was dead wrong.

Eventually government satellites tracked every single surviving unit to Schlepmore, Texas, a town literally in the middle of nowhere. All of the Shoku-Jutsu had merged there into one gigantic battle robot, 200 feet wide and 60 stories tall. The twisting pillar of tentacles formed something of a mouth, more like a giant speaker really, and ordered in a clear, distinct voice of broken English for all Americans to bow down before the might of the emperor. The US military sent all they could at it, but it was no use. Missile batteries fired uselessly at the robot's carapace, fighter jets were swatted down with gargantuan tentacles like bull tails at fruit flies, and... Worst of all... mechanized army tanks were absorbed into the creature through titanium osmosis, making the creature bigger, stronger, and giving it firepower. At 9:15 AM, March 18, 20XX, the order for a nuclear strike on the tentacle robot bitch-mother was made by president Clinton, making her the first and only US president to order a nuclear strike within the boundaries of the United States outside of a controlled test environment. Thirty-six low yield warheads are delivered by ICBM and explode on contact. Series of blinding flashes wash through one after another into a singular blinding white void . A hurricane of twisted, fused together metal tentacle slag raged through the city from giant clouds of fire. The sky was actually scorched brown-orange for three days in the Northern Hemisphere, if I remember correctly. Of course this was blamed on terrorists, and the hot, writhing, twitching crater of blackened tentacles was steamrolled over and sealed with lead and cobalt cement. But... to coin a phrase... now you know, the rest of the story.
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