Thursday, May 22, 2014 

The FedEx guy stopped at my desk and put an envelope in front of me.

“Diana Jaworski?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

He held out his tablet and a stylus for me to sign acknowledging that I had received the package.

“Thank you,” I said as I signed his tablet.

As he left, I picked up the slim, white FedEx Express envelope. I pulled the tab and unzipped the envelope. A single ivory-colored card was inside. The text was simple but elegant in style, as it was written by hand in calligraphy with purple ink.  Purple is my favorite color.

It said, “Save the Date - June 7th, 2014” on one side.  On the other side was a San Francisco address followed by, “4:00 PM, Tell Absolutely No One.”

Now that was curious. I opened Google Maps on my computer and found that this was the address of a hotel. Googling the hotel name, I found its website.  The pictures shown were beautiful and it appeared to be an older hotel of Victorian design.

I called their number and asked if they had any events booked for June 7th. I was told that there was a wedding reception scheduled to start at 4 PM but nothing else, as they have only one ballroom. They would not share who had reserved it, as they were a “discreet establishment.” I asked about room rates and was told the rooms were all suites and started at $450 a night. Wow, a fancy place, even for San Francisco.

Now who could be getting married and invite me, mysteriously, to only their reception, I wondered. I could come up with nothing at all. I added the time and address to my calendar and started thinking about what to wear. I concluded that I’d have to go shopping and went back to scheduling a conference for my boss, Roger.

Fast forward to Friday, June 6th, 2014. The wedding reception was tomorrow and I had not heard anything more about it. I had gone shopping a bought a very nice emerald green dress, with an open back and slit up one side, for the occasion.

Once again, the FedEx man stopped at my desk with an envelope. It was a fat envelope, but very light. I signed for it and savagely ripped it open anticipating some news of who the lucky couple was. But to my surprise, I pulled out a black cotton & spandex dress, a notecard and a BART pass. What the hell, I thought.

I grabbed the notecard and read it … twice. It read:

“Wear this dress, sandals and nothing else.

Bring the BART card and absolutely nothing else.

No phone, no keys, nothing else.  Trust me, tell no one.

Ask for a package for Diana at the hotel desk.”

Now I was going crazy. What kind of wedding reception was this? Or was it a wedding reception at all? Who is sending me this stuff? Why?

I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what this was about. I decided not to go, it was too creepy. “Wear this dress, sandals and nothing else,” who would ask me to do that?

The dress was clearly expensive, well-made and a size too small, at least. I took the dress into a stall in the lady's room and squeezed into it. It was tight and very short, but the spandex in it allowed me to breathe, just barely. I looked in the mirror. My bra was pretty obvious through the sheer material.

So, I stepped back into the stall and removed my bra. The mirror was much kinder now. I looked extremely sexy, with my nipples stretching the black material nearly to bursting. I liked how I looked, but to wear that to a party of some sort would be like advertising sex on a stick. If I bent over my ass would probably pop right out of the dress. Actually, it might be fun, I thought, but only if I knew who was going to be there.

I redressed and went back to work. I couldn’t get that dress and instructions out of my mind. I looked up the hotel’s phone number again and called. They had no package for Diana at the desk at this time. I hung up frustrated and very curious as to what was really going on.

That night, I was out with Tricia, my best friend. I told her about the initial invitation and the package from today. We kicked around ideas and she came up with a novel one. I had celebrated my twenty-fifth birthday yesterday. Maybe someone was throwing me a birthday party.

But I told her the hotel’s only event room was reserved for a wedding reception. Maybe the party was going to be in a suite, she suggested. Then I thought of Marcus. We had hooked up as usual that week. It had been a day before my birthday and he had been very cool about it, only wishing me a happy birthday. The prior year he had actually bought me a gift.

Now it was making sense. He and I had been having sex for nearly three years. I know he felt something for me even though we had agreed that we would never have an emotional relationship, purely physical. So maybe he was throwing me a surprise birthday party.

June 7, 2014

Saturday morning, I was excited. I just knew Marcus was orchestrating some sort of party for me and I was eager to start partying. The day dragged on. About 2 PM, I took a bath and masturbated, as I usually do in the tub. I couldn’t close the deal though and figured I was too worked up about the party.

I left my apartment at 3:15 wearing the dress, sandals and nothing else. I had my BART ticket in my hand and had nothing else with me. I felt naked without my purse. I had locked my door only with the doorknob lock and not the deadbolt. My neighbor, an older woman who lived alone, had a key, so I knew I’d be able to get back in.

For June in San Francisco, it was warm. That was good because the dress offered no insulation. Even a slight breeze cooled me off and made my nipples nearly pop through the dress. As I waited for BART on the platform, I sensed many sets of eyes on me. I must have looked like a hooker in that super tight dress.

Once on BART, I sat in the back of the car anticipating that my ass would be exposed when I sat down. I was right. The train was cool and my nipples were hard. A young black man sat next to me and while I averted my eyes out the window, I’m sure he was staring at me. He was quite cute and I would have chatted with him if I weren’t so self-conscious about the dress.

I had six blocks to walk to the hotel from the BART station. The hotel was small and quite charming. The décor was Victorian with a beautiful sitting area near the front window. The registration desk had pigeonholes for all the room keys behind it. I asked for a package for Diana at the desk. The receptionist reached into a pigeonhole near the top and handed me an envelope. In it was a room card key for room 501 and nothing else.

In the elevator, I started to have second thoughts. What if this was some stalker and I was walking into his trap? But that thought vanished by the time I got to the fifth floor. I just knew Marcus was waiting for me.

I slid the card through the reader and opened the door. The lights were on, but no one was inside. It was a suite, with a kitchenette, two queen beds, one of which was stripped down to only a sheet, a sitting room and a wonderfully huge bathroom.

I found another envelope on the fully made bed. I opened in with great anticipation.

It read:

“Do you trust me? I hope so. First, have a Mike’s Hard Limeade; I put several in the minibar for you. Then by 4:30, please lay on the unmade bed and look under the pillow. Put on the blindfold. Put in the ball gag, lastly handcuff your hands to the headboard and wait for me. I’ll be there soon.”

Now I knew it was Marcus. He knew I loved Mike’s Hard Limeade. He had used handcuffs on me until I bought some silk ropes. I loved being blindfolded, tied up and fucked and he knew it from our many bondage experiences together.

I quickly found the blindfold and gag under the pillow of the unmade bed. The handcuffs were already secured together at the center of the headboard with a short piece of rope. I grabbed a limeade from the minibar and quickly emptied it.  Another went almost as fast. I was feeling good now, and after a third, it was time to get ready.

I put in the gag and tightened it slightly. I donned the blindfold and lay down on the bed. Did I really want to be handcuffed before Marcus got here, I wondered? I trusted him with my life. So, I handcuffed my left hand and then slowly closed the clasp on my right hand. Oh my God, what if this was this a huge mistake? Too late now, I was locked in.

I was now absolutely helpless, which I supposed was the idea. I was blindfolded, really couldn’t talk, but could breathe through the holes in the ball gag, and handcuffed to the bed. Now I waited. I realized I was very wet, which should not have been a surprise. I was feeling the limeade buzz and fantasizing about Marcus fucking me in my helpless state

I could hear traffic noises and the occasional elevator door opening or closing, but little else. I was getting a bit chilled as the air conditioning had kicked on after I clicked shut the first cuff.

I heard what I thought was the door open, but no other sounds followed. I sensed movement in the room and smelled something different, aftershave perhaps. My senses were heightened without my sight.

“Hello, Marcus? Is that you?” I called out, though the sound was nothing like the words I intended.

Nothing, only the air conditioner kicking on again.

I was sure I had felt a warm breath on my left breast. Just as I was dismissing it as my imagination I felt a sudden chill on my left nipple. It was water, not much, a few drops maybe.  But it was icy cold and soaking through my dress, saturating my nipple with its chill.

“Who’s there?” I demanded through the gag, though only guttural noises emerged.

I knew I was not alone. I panicked, what had I done?

An ice cube landed on my stomach and slowly slid along the thin material of my dress toward my belly button. It then moved as if by magic, though I know guided by an unseen hand, to my breast and nipple. Then another ice cube touched my other nipple. Oh my God, it was cold even through the dress, but felt good in a strange way.

Suddenly, hands were tearing my dress off, right down the middle.  My ankles were seized and my legs spread apart, far apart. I felt two hands on each, large strong hands. There were two people in the room with me!! I felt a spreader being locked onto my ankles. My legs were spread wide and I was now naked and helpless. 

It came to me suddenly. It was my gang bang fantasy. Everything aligned with what I had confessed to Marcus over a year ago. I had admitted that I had gang bang fantasy, and he, being a cop, was fascinated. How could that be? he asked. A woman fantasizing about being gang banged? Not just gang banged, I told him, gang banged hard and long by ten men. The scenario was just like this, except in my fantasy, I had used a personal ad to find a man to take me from a BART platform. Then, in my fantasy, of course, I’m blindfolded, gagged, handcuffed to a bed in a cheap motel. Next, my clothes are ripped off and a spreader applied to keep my legs open all the time. Finally, I am gang banged for hours swallowing all their cum.

Marcus had dug deep into my mind about this fantasy. Would I really like that to happen? Was I crazy? Why would I like ten men to fuck me? And on and on.

My answers were honest, in that, I wasn’t sure, but more than likely I would love it to happen, but only if I knew I’d live through it. I told him about my sex slave experience on spring break in 2010 and how much I enjoyed it. He was amazed and went away shaking his head that night.

Now the chickens had come home to roost. I was sure; Marcus had arranged a gang bang. I’m sure he was hoping I was a willing participant. I guess I had to be to handcuff myself to the bed and wait for whatever was coming. I wondered whom he had found to make my fantasy come true, a bunch of his police friends or strangers? Did he take out a Craigslist ad: Need ten strong men to fuck my girlfriend?

“Girlfriend” was a term we had never used. Did I think it wishing it true? No, I was not girlfriend material. I was a sociopath and therefore an “emotionless fuck toy,” as one guy had called me years earlier. It looked like I was definitely going to be a fuck toy today.

A finger interrupted my thoughts; a finger sliding along my soaked pussy and into it. The finger was followed by a tongue on my clit and hands on my nipples. Then hands were everywhere. I couldn’t count them all.

“Diana, I’ll take out the gag if you promise not to scream,” an unfamiliar voice whispered sweetly in my ear.

I nodded in affirmation. His use of my name and the very gentle handling I received really alleviated all my fears. I was now certain that Marcus had set up this “party”. But who were all these guys?

The gag and leg spreader were removed much to my relief. Almost immediately after the gag was removed a rather large cock replaced it. I started sucking and I liked it. A cock replaced the finger and the games were on.

I figured out the purpose of the rope holding the cuffs to the headboard. They could flip me over on my stomach and back to my back without having to un-cuff me. They manhandled me from missionary into doggy and then tried for cowgirl, but the handcuffs were really a problem.

So they took them off, telling me that the cuffs would stay off if I behaved and kept the blindfold on.  I loved the blindfold and wouldn’t think of removing it.

Now I was in the cowgirl position, which I love, as my G-spot gets more attention. I had a cock in my mouth and one in each hand and I was riding a bucking bronco. It was amazing and when I was close to coming, I let go of the cocks and spit out the one in my mouth so I could lean back. That always helped and in this case, it did wonders. I screamed as I came and drove the cock as deep into my cunt as I could while fingering my clit.

“Fuck me. Fuck me harder,” I screamed as the waves of an extended orgasm washed over my body and heated my groin.

Hands grabbed me and lifted me up momentarily, only to feel a finger at my dark hole. They had used a lot of lube and were now stretching my asshole with multiple fingers. I didn’t care. I wanted a cock in me, anywhere.

“Yes, fuck my ass,” I shouted. “Fuck me hard!”

With that, I was lowered onto a cock, which after two attempts made it into my asshole. Initially, it hurt, but I relaxed and it got better, much better. I was laid back on top of the man’s chest, exposing my pussy for another cock, I assumed and hoped.  I had experienced a double penetration before and loved it, though I had been quite drunk. Tonight I had a good buzz, but wasn’t really drunk.

As the second cock penetrated my pussy lips, I felt a third at my mouth. I pulled him into me and started sucking, as the two cocks began their rhythmic dance below. I was handed two more cocks, one for each hand and jerked them hard, as I was being completely fucked. I came several times and the cocks keep banging me hard.

I felt cum spurt on my face as a sixth cock let loose his load. Then more cum, perhaps from another man or just a big load from the first. The cock in my right hand was replaced with another and another load of cum sprayed onto my boobs.

Another load landed on my face and boobs shortly after a switch of cocks down below, so I figured they were not going to fill my pussy with cum. I felt the cock in my mouth spasm followed by the unmistakable jet of cum hitting my throat. I was in heaven.

Another cock replacement was followed by another blast of cum on my face and neck. Then it was musical chairs time. All the cocks came out and I was moved to a cowgirl position on top of one guy.  I was pushed forward and a second cock inserted in my ass. Another cock was in my mouth and two more in my hands.  The ass fucking was hard and deep as he had the best position. I came several times, with prolonged, screaming orgasms.

The man with his cock in my ass came inside me, grunting loudly and pushed his cock as deep as he could get it. I felt so full, it was almost painful. but my muscles had relaxed to the point where I could take anything.

Then the cocks in my and in my hands started paying off.  I had several loads on my face already, but they just added to them. I got at least a couple more loads mostly in my mouth and I swirled it around with my mouth open.

“Yeah, baby,” and “swallow it all, ” were all I can remember, as I scooped several fingers of cum into my mouth before swallowing.

I guessed there had been about ten loads let loose, corresponding to the ten men in my fantasy. I couldn’t guess how many times I had cum. I was sweaty and exhausted. My ass ached and my clit was too tender for me to touch. I had been fucked well and good.

“Diana, we have to handcuff you again, before we leave. Don’t worry we’ll call the cops, tell them what room you’re in and you’ll get rescued soon,” one man laughed.  Several others joined in the laughter. I just smiled, as thought of the past hour.

“Thank you, gentlemen. I absolutely loved it. ”

They handcuffed me to the headboard again and I heard them all file out. I was alone again. I thought about my rescue and what I would say to Marcus. Then I realized that he might be in the room already.

“Thank you, Marcus! That was a wonderful birthday present for your intimate friend.”  We called each other our intimate friends, rather than fuck buddy or something else vulgar.

“Damn, Diana, how’d you know I was here? Happy Birthday! And when did you figure it out?”

“Come rescue me and I’ll tell you.”

He un-cuffed me and I took off the blindfold, which along with my face, neck and chest, was covered in cum. I told him I was pretty sure when I cuffed myself to the bed that he was behind it, but I was certain after they had un-cuffed me so nicely.

Marcus had another surprise for me. He had a GoPro camera set up and had videoed the whole thing. We had an agreement that we would not video or take pictures, but he felt this was special enough to violate that rule.

We sat in bed and watched my gang bang on his laptop. It was amazing seeing myself fucked and especially coming all those times. We counted seventeen obvious orgasms, though some bled into each other. There were twelve loads dumped on and in me in all. Two were from Marcus and another guy had cum twice, even though Marcus had asked them to limit it to once. If not they would have been there all night.

I had been right there were ten men, including Marcus, who had been the first one to cum. He had also been the one to come in my ass. He said he was more turned on than ever watching other men fuck me. I thought we’d have to experience that again, perhaps with a threesome.

They were all police officers Marcus had recruited over a period of several months. He actually had to convince several that this was a good idea. He had showed them all a rather naughty video sext I had sent Marcus a long time ago. He had saved it and it made me wonder about what else he had on his phone.

Only two were married, but both were separated at the time. Six others, two of whom were divorced, had girlfriends and several of these needed convincing. One actually asked his girlfriend’s permission and she amazingly said OK, but had given him conditions he didn’t reveal.

Marcus had gone to three precincts in order to find ten willing participants. I can imagine the stories that have been told. But according to Marcus, I now had a number of guardian angels on the force, should I ever get a ticket or into some other minor trouble.

We saved the video for a month and watched it on our regular Thursday night hookup, which led to some better-than-usual sex initially. But in the end, it was all retained in our minds and we deleted the video, as Marcus had promised his nine friends. I kept a shot of seven of the men’s faces off the video, as a reminder. The video had failed to capture a good likeness of the other two.

This is going to make things very interesting at the precinct Christmas party, as I made Marcus promise to invite me. Later in the year, he got a girlfriend and had to break his promise. I was disappointed but understood. So I asked him to have one of the single or separated guys who fucked me ask me to the party. We’ll see.

Marcus had a key to my apartment and had collected some clothes for me after I had left. I showered, changed into jeans and a purple top and Marcus drove me home. He kissed me good night, which he never does, and left. I collapsed into bed and slept for twelve hours. I had very good dreams.

It turned out that I had an escort to the hotel. Three of the men had been following me from the time I left my apartment until I arrived in the room. They were there for protection as well as to let Marcus know when I had left so he could go in and get clothes for me. it was kind of creepy and sweet at the same time.