He started it for a laugh. A simple post on a local fetish forum had exploded to meme level proportions:
“Join the fuck pile. Clothing prohibited. DM for address.”
Within the hour he had hundreds of responses, mostly people asking variations of the same thing.
What is the fuck pile?
“It is a pile of people who are all fucking. It’s a free-form 24/7 bisexual orgy that never ends. We have a house which is often full of people fucking. People come and go as they wish. As we speak I’m looking at a pile of people, probably about a half dozen or so, just fucking on the rug, and tonight is a quiet night. I have seen more than fifty people here at times. The only rules are that we must be verified, we must be naked and fucking when at the pile, and we never talk about ourselves.”
Most people laughed it off as a joke, or leaned into the meme. Some asked for video or photographic proof, which he hand waved of as a betrayal of the covenant of the fuck pile.
Yet, a good number of people pressed for details, asking about verification.
“If you are serious, then we require a full body video of you having an orgasm. Do it however you want, by yourself or with any number of other people who want to join. While you are reaching climax, you and anyone else in your video must explain to us, in exact detail, why you want and deserve to be accepted into the fuck pile. What do you have to bring to us? What to you want to receive from us. If you manage to convince us that you have what it takes, we can talk further.”
He put down his phone and went to sleep with a smile, sure this was the end of the game. However he woke in the morning to a pile of notifications.
He worked his way through the list, rejecting the grainy, low effort crap, dick pics, only fans bait, and obvious catfish scams. To his surprise, this left him with a decent mix of nearly a dozen genuinely interested, open minded, extremely enthusiastic candidates, and a huge b-list of DTF deviants.
The only problem was, the fuck pile didn’t really exist!
He made several arrangements, which included booking a nice looking hotel room for the coming weekend, then chose half a dozen of his prime candidates at random and sent them an invitation.
“Congratulations on passing the first stage. Your video was hot as fuck and we are looking forward to having you. However, we are a circle of trust, we must be cautious; we must know that you are a true fit. We have arranged for all new candidates to meet, so please make your way to room 303 of the grand hotel this Saturday evening from 6pm. The key card is in the plant pot nearest the door, leave it there for others. This is your opportunity to demonstrate with each other everything you promised in your application. One of us will be among you. Please us, and you may join us. Good luck!”
Watching from the lobby bar, he was surprised anyone had turned up to the hotel, but one by one, guests arrived at the hotel and made their way up to the third floor. He made sure to join before the last guest arrived.
He entered the room, acting casual, and like the others helped himself to the refreshments he had laid out on the study desk. He’d earlier set up the TV in the room to play a stream of their introduction videos on a loop for all to see, as an ice breaker of sorts, including one he had made for himself as a decoy. It didn’t really leave much room for small talk, and as he’d chosen the most outgoing adventurous types for this first group, it didn’t take long before clothes were removed, and the fun began.
Flirting and playful, the group ended up on the King sized bed. They warmed up slowly, starting with touching and kissing, but before long they found a rhythm with one another, fucking and sucking, licking, stroking and fingering, swapping and sharing. The night was a sweaty, cummy success, and he made sure he was not the last to leave.
He ran a similar process with the second group the next night, but stayed absent. For all intents and purposes, he would be just another new recruit thrown into the mix.
The following weekend, he sent a message informing both groups of their acceptance “after careful consideration”, and included the address and a personalised key code to a secondary rental he had arranged for this experiment.
Watching his security feed from his nearby home, he saw a car pull up, and a woman from the second night whom he had not yet met entered the house. She stripped per the rules, and explored the house, finding some refreshments in the fridge before making herself at home on the sofa.
Not yet… not yet…
Bingo!
Another guest arrived, from the first night. Perfect strangers. He listened to the audio feed…
“Hey…” the guy said, “I’m kinda new here… Quiet night?”
“We’re not supposed to talk about it.” She commanded, “I’m here to fuck. Are you?”
Good. His sock puppet narratives on the forum had sunk in. He sent an invite and access codes to 100 others he had reviewed on his b-list. He took a shower, then made his way to the fuck house.
By the time he arrived, another five people had joined, and more were on their way was a no holes barred fuckfest. He stripped, fetched a drink and slipped into the pile.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/lb6gut/join_the_fuck_pile_clothing_prohibited_dm_for
Hell yeah