I wake up, feet tingling uncomfortably, and groan as I try to roll over. I can’t, and it startles me fully awake. I’m still tied exactly as I was earlier, hands at each corner of the bed, and a metal bar forcing my legs wide apart while still rendering them immobile with the straps that fasten to the bedframe. Geena had slid a steep wedge pillow under me so my ass was in the air, allowing her to fuck me with the strap on and jerk me off at the same time. I’m completely strapped down, unable to move, with my cock, balls, and hole all easily accessible. It’s one of the most extreme positions Geena has put me in, and I guess I must have passed out right after finishing. In fact, I can feel the dried cum from earlier on my belly.

That it was dried already made something else creep into my mind. Geena had planned a party tonight, and it was only 3 hours away when we were fucking. Which means… It’s about to start.

Frantically, I pull at my restraints. Geena hasn’t forgotten about me… right?

“Geena!” I yell, not caring that she wouldn’t like me to holler for her. Geena is in control during playtime, but playtime was over hours ago. The thought of being caught in this compromising position by other partygoers really freaks me out.

I yell again, and Geena finally comes in, not bothering to turn the light on. She draws her mouth into a frown as she walks over to me. “Enough of that,” she chastises. “Everyone is arriving, but I forgot to tell you it’s mostly all my girlfriends, you won’t enjoy it, anyway.”

“Geena, you can’t leave me like this during the party. Come on!” I say, trying not to sound as concerned as I really am. Geena tsks, and to my horror goes over to her toy drawer and pulls a few things out.

“You know I don’t like it when you tell me what to do, my love. I’ll come to get you after the party. Until then–” she raises my head with her hand and slips a sleep mask over my eyes, “You just wait here quietly.”

She plants a quick kiss on my lips, and I turn my head blindly. “Wait here? Geena, I–” but before I can complete the thought she is pressing something into my open mouth. It’s a ball gag. I try to beg her. The thought of being without sight, speech, or movement legitimately scares me. Geena strokes my hair soothingly, telling me to be a good boy and she’d be back soon. I shake my head, staring against the bindings, but I hear the door latch and I know that she’s gone.

I’m afraid. Not so much about being physically harmed, but about the embarrassment that would ensue if anyone saw me this way. It was one thing to be Geena’s big, mild-mannered boyfriend in public, but for everyone to know I was her sexual submissive? Thinking about it has my stomach in knots.

I try to relax and let the time pass me by, but I can hear everything. The poppy music playing on the cheap stereo I had brought over, the clanging of glasses and silverware, everyone’s murmuring voices, and most worrying, the sounds of people in the bathroom adjoining the bedroom.

No one would come in. I had to make myself believe that. I’m breathing rapidly and I have to focus on taking slow breaths so I don’t hyperventilate. The nervousness reaches a breaking point when I hear the turn of the doorknob to the bathroom and the quiet whispers of multiple people entering the room.

“Is he asleep?”

“Is this where she wanted us to go?”

“She only sent the two of us in – the rest of you shouldn’t have followed!”

“He really is helpless. Geena is crazy!”

I whip my head back and forth, trying to count the voices, but it’s impossible as they all circle the bed. I feel the weight of a few of them settling next to me, and I shake my head no, hoping to get the point across. It causes a few of them to laugh, and one or two of the laughs sound masculine. I shrink into myself, burning with mortification, and clench my eyes shut behind the mask, willing it to be over.

“She said to do anything we wanted, but hands only, right?”

“Right.”

The touches start off slowly, the first hands running up my calves and stroking my chest, gently pulling my chest hair as they did so. Some tickled my feet, and I tried to jerk away, but I’m held fast by the bar and straps. The bar rattles as I try to shake the hands off of me and I try to yell behind the gag, but it’s useless.

The hands get bolder, tweaking my nipples while others squeeze the muscles of my thighs and poke around my taint. I hear giggling and inane chit-chat as a mystery number of people feel me up. My skin is in goosebumps from the feelings of the different hands; some soft, some calloused. I’m trying to make my mind shut off when the touchers get bolder still, and one of them spanks me with a hard smack.

I grunt, pissed off, but someone holds the bar between my legs so I can’t even struggle while another rubs an invading thumb in circles around my asshole. I can hear my pulse in my ears and my face is burning red from shame, but no one can even tell in the dark. I force myself to be silent and not give them the reaction they so obviously crave, but a large rough hand on my cock makes it extremely difficult.

The whispers are hard to decipher past the sound of my blood pressure and the buzzing of reluctant lust in my head. The rough hand is stroking me, the skin rasping and dry, as its mate cups my balls and squeezes periodically. A thumb is still on my asshole, barely pressing in, while someone else is making identical circles around my nipples. All the gentle, non-threatening touches have me getting hard, and I helplessly pump my hips in the rhythm of the hand stroking my cock. I’m lulled into a sense of security, knowing this is one of Geena’s games, when I hear one of them whisper, “Now,”

The hand on my balls and the fingers on my nipples tighten cruelly at the same time, and pleasure is washed away by searing pain from my chest, and much more alarmingly, my sack. It hurts terribly, and the pain has my stomach roiling in nausea. Before I can stop myself, I’m greying out, all the pain and other sensations short-circuiting my brain. I cry out in agony right before I go completely under into blessed unconsciousness.

I come to within seconds, hearing someone hissing, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“It was just a joke!” someone responds, but the first speaker is having none of it.

“Geena will kick your ass if she hears about that. Get out of here you two idiots.” I can hear the bathroom door open and shut forcefully, and a plethora of hands are stroking me all over to ease the abuse.

“Sorry about that, buddy,” someone whispers to me.

There are tears in the corners of my eyes. The others still in the room, however many there are, try to make up for my rough treatment. At first, I’m sure that nothing will help. I feel terrible; used and mistreated, but the hands ease the aches, rubbing my nipples carefully and avoiding my balls altogether. Someone is stroking my shaft again, this time with a lubed palm, while another is back to teasing the outside of my asshole.

I huff behind the gag, but despite everything in me protesting, the kind hands all over me are getting me horny again. It isn’t just the hands on my erogenous zones. It’s also someone running fingernails down my neck deliciously and the someone else rubbing my feet to restore blood flow from being suspended. All the sensations pool in my belly, and soon enough I can’t even tell them apart. It’s just a cacophony of signals from my nerves until it reaches a fever pitch low in my stomach. I pump my hips, jerking my head from side to side, overstimulated and overwhelmed.

Finally, the supernova building in me ignites, and a mystery number of people watch me come helplessly, shivering, shaking, and sobbing behind the ball gag. My entire body tenses with the orgasm, my muscles contracting under everyone’s fingers. I’m drowning, and I can’t get enough air as my climax pulls me under.

I fall back on the restraints, boneless and greying out again. I don’t pass completely out this time, but my head is fuzzy as the orgasm ebbs away. The whispers recede, and I can hear people filing out of the room. One of them takes pity on me and jerks the wedge pillow out from under my back so I’m flat on the bed. I almost moan in relief as blood returns to my feet and toes.

Exhausted, I slip in and out of sleep, and I do not know what hour it is when Geena, smelling of boxed wine, slips into her bed beside me, taking my mask and gag off before undoing my restraints. I look at her silently. She’s tipsy and happy to see me, and when she wraps her arms around me and presses her soft tits into my chest while she buries her face in my neck, I decide to set aside the conversation about the hands until morning. I crawl out of bed to piss, wash the cum off my stomach, and brush my teeth in the bathroom before coming back to bed. The sheets are soft and Geena is warm in my arms. I’m not thrilled about the evening’s events, but I will not ruin her night. I kiss her hair as she snuggles into me, and we both drift off wordlessly to sleep.