I don't remember how I got here. Perhaps I was drugged and kidnapped. The bonds I feel on my wrists and ankles suggest this hypothesis; although I am comfortable, I can hardly move. Yet my mind is clear, my senses incredibly keen. A blindfold cuts off my sight, but the textured leather of the table is pleasantly cool against my bare back. I hear a murmuring around me, no words, just sighs and small sounds of appreciation. I feel the heat radiating from many bodies. I smell expensive perfume and fresh sweat and raw musk.
No one has touched me yet, but I know that they are there, around the table. Men, and women too, watching me, admiring my exposed and helpless body splayed out before them. No one has laid a finger on me, yet I am suddenly, overwhelmingly aroused at the mere thought of their presence and their gaze. My pussy swells and spills over. I feel a trail of moisture slip down over my butt cheeks and into the crevice between them. My unseen companions release a collective breath.
Then there is a shock, the first touch, someone's tongue briefly licking up the pearly drops beaded on my fevered skin. I shudder, spasm into pre-orgasm from this one contact, which is gone almost before I can register it. I strain, unsuccessfully, to spread my thighs wider, mutely offering my aching sex to their fingers and mouths. Something like a laugh ripples through the crowd of watchers.
My knees are bent, my ankles fastened securely with something soft but strong, close to my buttocks. This position opens both my cunt and my ass to their eyes and their touch. My arms are loosely raised above my head, wrists bound together and then to the table. It is surprising how little freedom I have to move, considering how gentle these bonds seem.
My nipples tighten into throbbing buds of need. Someone notices and brushes his palms (her palms?) symmetrically over them, once, twice, sending electric shivers down my spine. Once again, the touch is transient, merely a tease. I moan, begging without words, arch my back toward those hands that I sense are poised above my breasts, just out of reach.
"Sshh", says a soft voice near my ear. "Hush." Then there are smooth lips sealing mine, a delicate tongue slithering between them, a taste of lemon and cinnamon. My nipples are caught between strong fingers that squeezed until pain blazes on the edges of the pleasure. I open my mouth to moan, but my voice is stopped by a suddenly rough tongue.
The grip on my nipples is unexpectedly released. Rings of sensation radiate over my breasts like ripples on a pond. My cunt vibrates in resonance. Before I can catch my breath, someone takes my clit between finger and thumb, squeezing hard. I explode, neon colors flashing on my closed eyelids, my body twitching and shivering. For long moments, I surrender to the delicious spasms racing through me. I forget that I am not alone.
Hands, many hands, bring me back to myself. Someone is stroking my thighs, firmly and rhythmically kneading my flesh. Someone else trails a fingertip along the sensitive skin under my arm. There are hands on my breasts, hands cupping my buttocks, fingers gently separating and holding my labia apart. A digit slides into my well-lubricated pussy, then a second. An echo of my last orgasm shimmers through me. Someone lays a fingertip on the tight knot of my anus. Fear and desire spark a new crisis that leaves me writhing under their ever-more-invasive touches.
Still they do not speak, my captors. Fingers dabble in my depths and then smear wetness over my lips. I lick off the ocean-flavored juices, feeling the tides surge between my legs. A smooth bulb of taut flesh bounces against my mouth. I open to welcome someone's cock, tasting salt and the bitterness of pre-come, feeling his pulse against my tongue.
Now there's more hardness between my legs. I tilt my pelvis toward it, silently pleading for penetration. The time for teasing is over now. My unseen lover plunges himself into my cunt, and another orgasm tears through me. He is still pounding my flesh when I return to consciousness, and I arch up to meet his thrusts. Before long, however, he pulls out, although my swollen lower lips cling as if to hold him inside.
There is a moment of aching emptiness, but then I am filled again, this time by a buzzing vibrator that feels far longer and thicker than any human cock.
I cannot bear it. I come once, twice, but the humming bulk inside me continues its delicious torment. The hand that wields it (I somehow sense that it is woman) partially removes it from my quivering depths, only to mash it against my hyper-sensitive clit. I scream, despite their admonitions to silence, the world shattering around me into shards of pure sensation.
There is no end to this. Do I want it to end? The dildo is in my ass now, another cock in my cunt, a hand squeezing one aching breast, someone's mouth sucking the other nipple. I have become my orgasms, which rock me without cease.
Do I want this? It does not matter, for I have no choice. These people will use me however they please, for as long as they please. The thought of my total helplessness brings on a deeper, more piercing climax than any of those that came before.
I hear moans and whimpers around me, the slap of skin against skin. I am not the only one being touched, squeezed, filled, ravished. The dildo slides out of my ass and is replaced by yet another engorged penis, wringing from me yet another orgasm.
I am a naked, helpless, quivering mass of flesh, mindless, a thing of raw sensation. In the last flickering corner of conciousness, though, I have strange sense of peace.