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collar, with only enough slack to reach the bottom of her rib cage. Her shoulders were still folded back as her hands rested on the constraining plastic wrap, and she wished she could take a deep breath.
    “Relax, Darlin’,” Ethan’s comforting voice came through her headphones over the music, and she pulled as much air into her lungs as she could, and blew it out in an attempt to obey. His hand rested on the plastic over her left breast and he said, “Hold my hand, and feel free to make all the noise you want, but don’t say any words.”
    Sam realized he was sitting on the bondage table above her head, and she arched her back and moved up the table a couple of inches until her head touched his leg. She heard Ethan’s amused chuckle in her headphones before he said, “Okay Samantha, no more of that. Stay put and enjoy.”
    His other hand caressed her cheek a few seconds after he talked, and she thought he must be using a push-to-talk microphone, and she wasn’t hearing what the men were saying to each other.
    A feminine hand touched her thigh and brushed towards her pussy. Sam tensed, and Ethan’s hand left her cheek before he said, “Relax, Samantha. You wanted this, didn’t you?”
    Sam nodded as she remembered telling him how, since his cock was about as big around as her fist, she should be able to take another woman’s fist and was curious about how it would feel. Shit . She was responsible for her friends being put through this exercise. Did they want this, too? Or were they being forced to endure it because of her?
    The hand brushed through her folds and massaged the area around her clit, and Sam’s hips moved involuntarily. She hadn’t come in days and it wouldn’t take much. Damn, she hoped he gave her permission.
    Fingers teased the sides of her clit hood before moving down to press into her. Sam groaned in pleasure as Ethan’s hand squeezed her breast around the plastic. She held his pointer finger, but he apparently had a good bit of dexterity with his other fingers.
    She wished she knew whether it was Kirsten or Viv fingering her. Whoever it was added another finger, then another, and another. Before long Sam felt the woman’s knuckles press into her, and Sam gasped and moaned, and she squeezed Ethan’s finger as if her life depended on it. God, if Ethan didn’t give her permission to come she’d die. But with speech restrictions she couldn’t ask, and with the hood she couldn’t even beg with her eyes.
    She still had no idea which of her friends had their hand buried in her, and her only comfort was in knowing the woman likely didn’t know who she was, either. Or, maybe not, since Sam had known she was fisting Viv.
    Sam let out a low-pitched shout as the hand inside of her folded into a fist and spread her wide. “Take it,” Ethan ordered. “Squeeze down on the fist and hold. Feel every knuckle, every finger, inside you. Squeeze and hold, that’s it.”
    She’d wanted to know how it would feel, and it was so much different from a cock. She could feel the knuckles, the bones, the shape. Ethan’s cock stretched her wide, but it was smooth and it fit . The fist, however, forced its way in and then reshaped her on the inside. A cock had no actual bones, but a hand?
    She screamed and tried to take it, tried to relax and let her muscles accept it, but Ethan said, “ Squeeze , Samantha.”
    Sam tightened down on the invading fist and the sensations were overwhelming. Her body was about to let go whether she wanted to or not as she tried to process so much at once — Ethan above her, the fist inside her, the hood over her head, the strange garment pulling her shoulder blades together, and the noises in the room blocked so all she heard was the beat-less music and Ethan’s deep, deep voice.
    “ Come, Samantha. Let it go.” Relieved to be able to let her body have its way, Sam screamed as the orgasm washed over her, and her body thrashed out of control around the fist impaling her. The