The Grope Box: Fingers in Every Hole

I let them put me in the box. Naked. Strapped down. The lid closed and I couldn't see a thing. Just leather cutting into my wrists, the heat of the room outside, and holes in the wood where anyone...anyone...could slide their hands inside. And they did. Fingers everywhere. Pinching, pulling, spreading me open, stuffing my cunt and ass until I was dripping, crying, begging. They edged me, stretched me, ruined me with strangers' hands. I lost track of the orgasms, lost track of myself. And when they finally let me out, I couldn't even stand, my body still throbbing, still used. Hours later I still didn't know who touched me. Who made me scream. Who made me theirs.