My hands itch to cover my breasts, but I fight the shyness and square my shoulders, wanting to be confident. I am determined to be a woman who can handle these four huge men and be the self-assured person I've always wanted to be.
"Come on then," I say. "It's time to clean up."
"And come clean," Harris winks. "You're running out of time until your next orgasm. Then you'll have three questions to answer.
"Did we agree to the new rules?" I ask, now genuinely confused about what we're talking about.
"Who the fuck knows," Karter says.
I step under the warm water and run my hands over my head, washing the ocean and sand from my hair. With my eyes closed, I have no idea whose hands cup my breasts or whose fingers slide between my legs, gently circling my clit. I have no idea who presses themselves against my back, hands holding my wrists above my head. A shiver of arousal passes through me at the powerlessness. "Tell us your fantasy, Connie."
I drop my head forward, so the water doesn't go up my nose as I inhale deeply. I'm going to do this. I'm going to be truthful and take the consequences, whether they be good or bad.
"My naughtiest fantasy is to be powerless," I say as all the men around me go still. Whoever is holding my hands grips a little tighter as though they're already thinking about what my words mean. "I mean, really powerless. Bound and blindfolded. At the mercy of…" I have to think about how to word the next bit because this has never been about many men, and I'm not sure if more of them will make it more arousing or less. Would it be more intense with more? Or more distracting. I make a decision to be honest because that is what this is about.
"…of a man." I finish.
"One man?" I think it's Holden who says it. I think he's the one behind me, gripping my wrists so tightly I want to moan.
"In my mind, it's always been one, but maybe it could be more."
"Would you like us to try?"
I nod.
"Is this just about control?" I think it's Kane who asks this time.
I nod. "Just control. Not about pain. Not about degradation. Just about being at the mercy of someone else, totally."
"We can do that for you if you want?"
I nod again, keeping my eyes closed, not wanting to break the spell that is already being cast.
Hands wash me clean using a sweet-smelling soap, and after they're clean too, the shower is turned off. I keep my eyes closed as they lead me from the bathroom, drying me with a soft, fluffy towel. Murmuring voices communicate things I can't quite hear, and already my mind and body feels alive with the new sensation. Minutes later, soft cloth is wrapped around my eyes and tied at the back of my head. A soft rush of air leaves my lips as I'm cloaked in darkness. Next, my wrists are bound together, and I'm encouraged to lie back on the bed. I think they're using their ties from the wedding to shackle me to the bedframe. In this position, my arms are stretched behind my head and my breasts exposed. I expect someone to touch me, but while they restrain me, nobody says a word.
I bring my feet up, keeping my knees pressed together, but they don't stay that way for long. Almost immediately, strong hands tug my legs open, and my ankles are fixed to the bed frame with my knees bent. When they have completed their work, I test my binds, finding them comfortable on my skin but strong enough that my movement is almost completely limited. Cool air licks between my legs against my exposed pussy, and my nipples draw into tight points as my body primes for their touch.
When are they going to touch me?
Footsteps thud on the floor, echoing in the empty space of the room. I blink behind my blindfold, which lets in absolutely no light. A shiver of fear runs through me. I've given these men so much trust. I know they're connected to Natalie's husbands, and in the short space of time that I've known them, they've treated me with nothing but respect, but who knows what could happen now? The fear is part of why this fantasy always makes me crazy. Without it, maybe I wouldn't feel as wired. Maybe I wouldn't feel close to coming without a single caress. Oh, God. I'm so turned on that I think my pussy is leaking, and there is no way to close my legs to hide it. No way to move my hands to cover my ridiculous arousal.
There is movement downstairs. I can hear cupboards closing and the soft pad of bare feet on the floor. What are they doing? Who is in this room with me, and who isn't? Are they making a snack?