<b>I do realise this post is very long, but bear with me!</b>
I have a recurring fantasy where I make arrangements to have a large number of anonymous men turn up to a specific place outdoors at a specific time one morning, to silently follow instructions I shall give them there.
I arrive nervously a few minutes earlier with an audio recorder, two blindfolds, three strong ropes and an assortment of whips, ticklers and intrusive toys. I strip to my underwear, tie the end of one rope tightly to my right ankle, and tie the end of the second rope to my left ankle. Finally I conceal the tape recorder a short distance away and press record, tie one blindfold tightly on myself, lie down on the grass and leaves and wait, heart pounding with anticipation. The remaining blindfold, third piece of rope and toys remain untouched on the floor beside me.
After a few long minutes, I hear them arrive and walk over. They are not supposed to talk, but there are a few gasps, and a few whispered WOWs. When they settle down, I break the silence to instruct one of them to tie the remaining blindfold over the top of the one I am wearing, ensuring that I cannot see any of them. Unseen arms perform the task swiftly and firmly. It is pitch black, and lying there in the cold, I can feel the heat from his body and hear the rest of them breathing with anticipation and excitement. When the blindfold is secure, I instruct him to use the third rope to bind my hands together over my head. Once again, he is gentle but ensures that my wrists are inseparable, and then I hear him step back.
I struggle to hide the mixture of fear and anticipation of what is about to happen, and it takes several starts before I manage to explain that the only rule is that my blindfolds must remain on and my wrists tied together, and otherwise they are to have their way with me, and to continue until they are done with me, no matter what I might say or protest. A silence then falls over while the gravity of what I have just said sinks in.
Eventually one or two come forward and begin touching me, caressing my skin, my hair, running down my neck, my bra-line, and stomach. Over my feet, up my calves, thighs and hips. Two more hands, then another, and another, until my body is covered with a swarm of crazed palms and fingers. My breathing is getting heavier and more laboured. Underneath my thong, some attempt insertion, I am getting wet already and initial resistance is soon replaced by slick ease. One finger becomes two, then three, then fingers from several participants. Other orifices are found. I try to hold back but I can't keep the moans in.
I am flipped over, I hear buckles being undone and jeans being removed. Before long my lingerie is torn and gone, and I am being penetrated from behind. They are groping my breasts and pulling my hair. Slow, gentle strokes are replaced with deeper, harder, faster and more aggressive strokes. The hands caressing my buttocks are slapping them with increasing energy. I am dragged by my hair over the body of a man who is lying on his back waiting for me. He enters me, and then another pushes firmly into my ass. I hear myself crying out, the tightness is almost unbearable. They fuck me as hard as they can, it feels like I am being slowly ripped apart. The one in my ass is ready to come, he withdraws to my relief and comes around to spill himself into my mouth, but the taste and smell of him is sharp, and the respite is brief as the next man in line takes his place behind me.
Another man steps up to enter my mouth, and he starts thrusting. I gag but nothing comes up, and he takes that as his cue to make his strokes longer and faster. After a while he pushes himself as deep as he can and comes in my throat, then pulls out. I cough violently and beg for it to stop, but another quickly and forcefully takes his place.
I am beginning to realise just what I have let myself in for, and try to distract myself by imagining what they look like. I can feel that one I am lying on top of is soft, hairy and rotund, and the one behind me has a boney pelvis which hurts almost as much as him violating me. I imagine they have dark blonde hair and pasty-white skin. I have no idea what the one I'm sucking off looks like, but from the smell of him, he's probably greasy and unkempt. But it is difficult to think about such things for long when you have to time your breathing between his thrusting.
Those standing around have discovered the whips, I can feel the sting and hear the crack of them landing on my flesh but the two are somehow disconnected. The men fucking me at either end are getting rougher and rougher, and it becomes difficult to isolate the acute individual feelings in the different parts of my body. The sensual information is overwhelming and I wonder just how much more I can take.
The ropes tied to my ankles are taut, and my tired, parted legs are unable, despite desperate attempts, to fight the strength of those holding them down. It continues for what feels like an eternity, and my mind wanders between the burning soreness of my holes, enjoying the total loss of control, to the biting cold of the breeze, to helplessness at the agonising pain, to orgasms that have me spasming and shivering with an intensity I have never experienced before. I lose count of how many men have been inside me, ejaculated and retreated only to have another take over where he left off.
I lose track of time, as if I have gone numb, but eventually I realise that there are only two men on me, then only one pounding me, and then there is no longer any flesh resting on mine. I begin to wonder if it is over, but a touch of cold metal between my legs makes me flinch and I realise that although they were done fucking me, they had discovered the dildos and were still curious to see what my body could take.
They try them out on me, quickly moving to the thickest and longest ones, pushing them so deep and hard that I gasp out loud. They start inserting multiple toys into both of places down there, my flesh stretching reluctantly and painfully. I shriek and writhe in discomfort, but they persist, eventually pushing a whole hand into me. A few take it in turns to see what it feels like to feel around inside me. My blindfold is damp with tears.
Eventually, they become bored of me. Raindrops begin to fall. The breeze is already cold and clearly they would rather be warm at home now that they've had their fun. I hear their numbers begin to thin out, and eventually I hear no one else. They have forgotten my bonds, forgotten me, and I lie on the ground, bound, sobbing silently. I struggle to free myself from the rope, but it is tied too tight. I get to my feet, and strain and pull, but succeed only in burning my already sore wrists. The icy rain is now falling with force, and after a few minutes I begin to lash out and cry in frustration and bewilderment.
Suddenly a hand cradles my head, and a pair of lips touch my ear and say, "Shhhhh." I have no choice but to be still in the presence of this strong, reassuring voice. He sits behind me, and I lean on him with his arms around me. Slowly, he picks apart the knots in the rope, one by one, until the rope falls off my hands. He runs his fingers soothingly across my chapped wrists, then raises them to his lips and kisses them gently. He stands me up, then I hear him turn to leave.
"Wait," I whisper. "Who are..." but his finger is upon my lips, stopping me from saying any more. He takes me in his arms and I melt into his body. We stand there for the longest time, the stranger I cannot see and I. After a few minutes, he steps back, kisses me gently but deeply, and begins to walk softly away.
"Wait!" I cry out, desperately trying to tear off the blindfold to see the mysterious stranger who, even in my defiled and dirty state, would perform this tender act. But it is tied tightly, and when I eventually remove the blindfold, I see that it is night, and I am once again alone. My audio recorder and other items are in front of me in a neat pile, and atop them is a single rose and, surprisingly, a card with my name on it.
But the inside of the card is blank, and as far as I know, I never again saw the mysterious stranger who knew my name.