Anonymous

Once she was settled into the back of the vehicle, she became acutely aware of her nakedness under the simple cotton dress they'd given her. She could feel the stitching of the leather of the seat through its sheer fabric. They'd glued patches to her eyes and sealed them tightly against her skin, and the loss of sight was complete. For aesthetics, a silky blindfold was tied over it. . Though she could barely hear the engine or feel its vibrations, the sensation of movement let her know they were on her way. Her mind wouldn't stop going over the steps leading up to this point.

"Time or visitor delimited?"

"Time."

"How long?"

"All night."

"Consciousness required?"

"... No."

Her fingers bunched the fabric of her dress against her knees nervously. Beneath her, the back of the dress grew damp with her arousal and the smell of it mingled with the rich scent of the leather. All she could hear was her own quickened breathing and the creaking of the leather when she shifted in her seat, and she couldn't stop herself from trying to figure out where they were going. She listened for any clues, but the vehicle was maddeningly quiet, insulated from any noise. Her body tensed with each change of speed and direction.

"Private or public?"

"Private."

"Single visitor or multiple?"

"Single."

"Any restrictions on the visitor?"

"What do you mean?"

"Gender, ethnicity, body type, size --"

"Oh. No."

The vehicle stops and her heart skips a beat as the door opens. There is a soft touch on her shoulder and she raises her hand so someone can help her out. She feels a hand keeping her from hitting her head on the door frame and she shivers self-consciously. She finds that funny, given what's in store. Outside the car, the summer night is warm and fragrant. She hears a door open and she's led indoors, into the cool air. More walking and more doors, then finally a voice says, "Undress, please."

"Physical restraints?"

"No."

"Sensory restrictions?"

"Both. Sight and hearing, I mean."

"Safeword?"

"Um, 'peach', I guess."

"That's all we need. Of course, we assure your safety. You should be ready in the clothing provided, and only that, at the time of your appointment. Emergency contraception, medical treatment, and counseling are available afterwards, upon request."

She pulls the dress over her head and she feels it taken from her hand. She slips her feet out of the slippers and there is another sense of movement as they, too, are taken away. It is just a little too cool, adding to the feeling of exposure. The voice says, "Any questions before we put in the ear plugs?" She shakes her head and it continues, "Reach back. The bed is behind you. Feel it? Good. When I'm done, I'll touch your nose. You can wait however you want. At the end of the night, I'll touch your nose again to let you know it is time. Understand? Good."

She feels hands touching her face and hot breath on her face before the ear plugs are inserted and the world becomes perfectly silent. She's suddenly terrified. For some reason, she was more afraid of this than the blindfold. She feels a light touch on the tip of her nose. Her hands go back, feeling for the bed again, and she sits on it. The cotton sheets feel very similar to the dress, but beneath it she can feel the more unyielding smooth hardness of a plastic sheet and suffers another moment of panic with a simultaneous jolt of arousal. She can smell herself even more than in the car, maybe because she's more wet or because, with her other primary sense removed, every smell and touch seems more acute.

She carefully lies back and finds a firm pillow for her head. She spreads her legs and waits. The position and the lack of senses just heightens the feeling of exposure and her arousal. The subtle scent of another person and the sensation of the mattress giving under increased weight are all the warning she has before a stranger's cocks pushes into her. There is no other contact. She can feel him moving above her and her arms brush against his, but the indifference is thrilling and frightening and surreal, all at the same time. She's aroused more by the situation than by his efforts, so rather than try and engage him, she lies still and lets him use her. Sweat drips on her breasts and neck as his pace increases and her body tenses in anticipation. Finally, after a break in rhythm, he drives in and holds, inseminating her. She gasps, her body shuddering but not quite reaching orgasm.

She feels him dismount and leave the bed. Lying with her legs still spread, semen cooling as it drips from her, she feels almost in shock at what she just allowed to happen to her, but thrilled at the same time. She has no time to ruminate on it, though, as she feels another weight at the foot of the bed. Strong hands grasp her hips and try to turn her over. She complies, her legs and feet brushing against hirsute, muscular flesh. Her body is pulled up so she's kneeling with her face and upper body on the bed, face half turned to allow her to breath around the pillow. She pants, almost hyperventilating, as she feels her visitor shift position to between her legs, one hand still on her hips.

While her first visitor was unremarkable in size, this one is thick, and she is stretched to accommodate him as he enters, but he's all the way in before she expected, proving short, as well. Robbed of all other context, she notes that the men have become little more than cocks in her mind. Just as she wanted. She sighs, relaxing herself, as he begins to slam into her hard. Short, abrupt thrusts, pulling back on her hips to drive himself into her. The sensation is better, either because of the position or the dimensions of her assailant, and she finds herself inching towards her elusive orgasm. It takes an effort of will not to respond. She remains passive, refusing to participate, wanting to be used.

His rhythm, unlike his predecessor, proves steady to the end. Almost hypnotized by the regularity of it, she is surprised when he suddenly stops to cum. Against her wishes, she whimpers in frustration at how close she is, but she can neither hear herself nor any response from her visitor. He holds until he is spent and then pulls out and gets off the bed, leaving her propped up. Her body is like a nerve, vibrating on the edge of release, and she silently begs for the next visitor to come quickly. She is rewarded by the sensation of a hand at the small of her back, pushing her down until she's lying flat on the bed, still face down. Her visitor climbs on top of her, not propped up over her, but skin to skin. Hot breath on the back of her neck makes the little hairs stand on end and she shivers when she feels a tongue trace the side of her neck.

There is a moment of shifting and then the head of a cock presses between her legs and against the entrance of her cunt. An arm hooks under her on the side she's facing and pulls her as it pushes in, slowly. With his skin so near her face, she can smell him. A soft kiss on the back of her neck accompanies the next slow thrust and her body aches. So close. But her visitor sense the tension and keeps it slow. Too damn slow. Teasing her, toying with her. She pants and whimpers and practically begs, but is unwilling to go so far as to become an active participant and shatter her illusion. It's impossible to maintain, though. Even with his care, she begins to buck as her orgasm overwhelms her, and he takes the opportunity to ride her to his own release, depositing his own load with the previous two.

When they are both done, she feels lips graze her cheek and gets the impression of words spoken that she can not hear, and then he is gone, leaving her alone and cold and damp. She tries to catch her breath, her cheek still pressed against the pillow, but there is the sense of motion in front of her. Something grazes her lips and she reflexively licks them, tasting pre-cum. There is no time to process this before a hand runs through her hair to cradle the back of her head before the head of a cock forces itself between her lips. She had thought herself spent, but this change in venue sends another jolt through her body, as the neglected senses of taste and smell are now engaged in her degradation, adding a new thrill.

This strange man's cock which now slides against her tongue as it seeks to enter her throat, has a salty tang of urine to match the faint smell of it able to penetrate her nostrils before they were buried in the musky scent of her abusers pubic hair. She struggles not to choke as he fucks her face, heedless of her comfort or desires, but the experience is thrilling, and she finds herself shuddering with another small orgasm just from the violation of it. Thankfully, he opts to pull out instead of coming in her throat. Gasping for air, she feels warm semen spatter across her cheeks and forehead and is quietly thankful for the blindfold. He's gone before she recovers, rolling onto her back to catch her breath.

Two hands grab her ankles and pull her legs into the air as a new visitor climbs onto the foot of the bed. The pace has now begun to overwhelm her and she practically has no time to register what is happening before a new cock, this one a bit smaller, enters her and begins to take its pleasure from her now well-used body. It can't have been more than a half an hour and she asked for the whole night. She's filled with doubts and it only heightens her arousal, excitement and fear indistinguishable as a stranger jack-hammers into her pussy, balls slapping against her ass. Abandoning her attempt at silence, she allows herself to make noises, grunts and small distressed sounds that she can't hear but which seem to encourage her visitor, who quickly collapses onto her as his cock twitches inside her, leaving its contribution.

As he climbs off, she half-considers saying the safe word, just taking this extreme experience she's had so far as sufficient and dragging herself from the precipice. But a small part of her is revelling in this and wants to push the limits, to see how much she can take. The small reminder that she is in control helps the panic a little, but doesn't take the edge off the thrill when she feels another body join hers on the bed. She feels breasts brush against hers before a mouth covers her own with a deep kiss. She feels something hard against her thigh, not like a cock, something artificial. Not breaking the kiss, her visitor raises her hips a little and uses her hand to guide the strap-on to her vulva, rubbing it against her clitoris. She arches her back in immediate response and she can feel the visitor chuckle as a vibration against her lips.

Another raising of hips and it is pushed inside her. Her visitor writhes like a snake, undulating her body against her to work the dildo inside her while also sliding her deliciously soft skin against her. She stops kissing her and grabs the back of her head, pressing her breasts against her lips. Taking the cue, she sucks on her nipple, running her tongue around it, losing herself in soft feminine scent of her. The visitor switches breasts and picks up the pace, becoming more consistent, driving the fake cock into her. She grazes her teeth against the nipple, sucks on it hard, and her visitor orgasms, her hips jerking in rhythm to it, almost bringing her off. She groans when the dildo is withdrawn and soft lips give her one last kiss before departing.

Despite her arousal and frustration, the physical and emotional toll causes her to drift off. She awakes, she doesn't know how long later, by another visitor entering her. And then another. She becomes lost in the routine of it, how impersonal it is. For a time, there is no variation, men climbing on top of her, leaving their seed inside her, and leaving. A procession of cocks. She loses track, not even noting the variations in size. She wonders, at a lucid moment, if this was planned this way. It is like a dream. Incredibly erotic, but also exhausting and degrading. She feels dirty and used. It is what she wanted but that's doesn't change it but that's why it is good.

She's brought back to full awareness when hands take her wrists and pull her up to a sitting position. She's turned to the side so her legs are over the edge of the table and experiences a moment of lightheadedness. It must be apparent, because the hands of her visitor support her, holding onto her shoulders until she's steady. Then, they urge her off the bed, first to a standing position, then with gentle pressure on her shoulders, to her knees. Just the position reignites her titillation and helps her wake up from her daze. Without considering how it violates her passivity, she reaches out, seeking the hips and cock of her visitor. She's surprised at how slender his hips are and, again, at how long his cock is. She leans down, lifting it to her lips, and taking it into her mouth.

Self-awareness momentarily lost, she moans around the organ as she takes her time tasting it, running her tongue around it, enjoying the feeling of it pulsing in her mouth. Once again, her visitor is reduced to a sex organ penetrating her. Now, though, it is her toy and she plays with it for her own satisfaction. Unable to see or hear the reactions of the man it is attached to, her only clues are the organ's own twitching and changes in hardness. She teases the orgasm out of it with her lips, tongue, and teeth and is rewarded with its ammoniac load. A hand strokes her hair as the cock withdraws, startling her a little. But, as before, there is soon another visitor, and she stays on her knees for what seems like a dream-like eternity, lost in another procession of disembodied cocks.

She confused when she's finally pulled to her feet and turned around. A rough hand forces her down so she's bent over the edge of the bed. A distressed sound escapes her throat as her ass cheeks are spread and a slimy finger pushed into her ass, then a second. Once she's lubricated, the fingers retreat and a skinny cock replaces them, its head resting against her anus until hands are firmly grasping her hips. She whimpers and tries to relax as the cock presses in, slowly but not without difficulty. The intrusion wakes her up, again, from her reverie and she immediately panics at the thought that this is the prelude of a procession of men fucking her in the ass.

Her tension makes the going difficult, but her visitor is patient and insistant. Again, the sensory deprivation causes her universe to shrink down to her reluctant ass and its stubborn intruder. Ironically, the unpleasantness of it makes it more erotic for her and she relaxes. All at once, the cock is buried all the way in and she marvels at the ease of it, like it is a magic trick. She struggles with the unfamiliar sensation as the cock withdraws and thrusts back in, each time a little easier but strange and alien all the same. The pace picks up quickly, the patience of the visitor expended in the initial effort. The fingers on her hips dig into her flesh painfully and the front of her thighs are driven hard against the side of the bed. His orgasm is bestial, his hips jerking spasmodically as his semen unloads into her, and she whimpers quickly as he pulls out and is gone.

As she feared, the next cock finds her ass as well and she feels tears in her eyes as his much larger cock has to repeat the process of stretching her anus to accommodate him. Her hands clench at the sheets and she cries out in pain, but the idea of saying her safeword never crosses her mind. A part of her is amazed when he's finally all the way in, at just how full she feels, but she's exhausted. She just lies limp on the bed, her body jerking with each thrust, her face turned to the side, still wet with tears behind the blindfold. His orgasm surprises her. She feels it more easily and when he's gone, she feels so empty that she's thankful when the next cock replaces it. This one finishes on her ass rather than inside her and she's surprised at how much this turns her on.

Her arousal must be obvious, though, because the next cock eschews her ass and instead rubs between her slick labia, bumping her clitoris with its glans. It's like a firecracker going off. She bucks hard and has the strongest orgasm of her life. It is still going when the cock enters her, her vagina walls massaging it in its throes. The man attached is obviously excited by this because there is no slow build up, he immediately fucks her hard and she's driven immediately into another orgasm. She pushes back against him, suddenly wild with lust, screaming her pleasure until she's hoarse. She barely notices when he comes and is replaced by another. In fact, she loses track of both visitors and orgasms.

There is a soft touch on the tip of her nose and she realizes she's lying in the bed, on her back, exhausted and very sore. She doesn't think she can move. Helping hands pull her to a sitting position but require her to go no further. The earplugs are removed and, though the room is quiet, what subtle sounds there are seem deafening. Nobody speaks for a few minutes, giving her time to acclimate. A glass of water is pushed into her hand, which she greedily drinks. It is replaced by a glass of orange juice, which she takes more slowly. Finally, a voice asks, "Do you need anything before we return you home?"

She tries to wrap her head around thoughts and finally shakes her head. She's irritated at the intrusion into her private headspace. She refuses a shower, acutely aware of the residue covering her body and wanting to experience it a little bit longer. The hands help her painfully to her feet and into a clean new dress and slippers. Her senses are so heightened that the freshly laundered smell of the cotton is almost overpowering. Still blind, her awareness is tense and alert. She's led back through the house to the car. On the ride back, she takes stock. She feels spent. Physically, emotionally, sexually. She's experienced subspace before but this is different. More cathartic. By the time the vehicle comes to a stop at her house, it has already started to feel like an extended erotic dream. Unreal. Impossible. Once she's back in the house, before she washes away the last evidence of her degradation, she sends an email requesting another session.