Grabby hands remove your clothes and restrain you on the table

"Help?" you repeat, and the boys take it as an invitation.

As one they swarm down upon you, jostling for position. The hoody and shorts disappear in an instant, though the hands seem to linger for ages against your pussy, ass and breasts.

"Damn, no underwear!"

"Lie back..."

"Bring her here..."

The same mix of soft, rough, large and small hands roam across your body, and as you sputter out words of protest you're lifted from the ground. An inordinate amount of the helping hands congregate on your most sensitive parts, briefly touching you before another pair replaces them as they lay you gently atop the chair.

"We should strap her in. You know, just in case."

"Wh - what?" you stammer, lifting your head, certain you'd misheard.

No sooner has your head lifted than your hands and legs are pulled back and apart, and the snapping of velcro precedes the feeling of something soft encircling your wrists and ankles.

"Do we gag her?"

"Let me go!" you demand.

"She's playing a difficult patient, I think we should," says the same guy who'd suggesting strapping you down.

"Don't you d.... mmph!" Your full protest is stopped by something soft being shoved into your mouth. The boys look elated, other guilty or nervous, and most jump at the sudden re-appearance of Dr. Badgers.

Thank God, you think, He'll set me free...

"We, uh, used the restraints," a timid boy points out, earning glares from the others.