The second the countdown began, a shuddering moan was heard. The sound echoed through the square. That one sound became a catalyst. Suddenly, more sounds were coming from the room. The high-pitched whining, the low moans, and sudden grunts filled the square.
Those watching could see the happening in the room. The tendrils that snaked around the people had begun to vibrate. Some secreted liquids, others rubbed.
One woman gasped as the tendril around her legs tightened. They don't feel like vines or plants anymore. They have now begun to warm up. The room itself is emitting an intoxicating aroma. The tendrils flatten and lengthen. Everywhere they move, it's like being sucked by tiny tongues. And each tongue knows exactly where to touch.
A man in the room couldn't help releasing a sharp hiss as one of the tendrils broadened and flattened over the head of his cock. It lengthened to cover the entirety of his shaft. The pressure on his cock caused him to almost tip over.
