There is little Jules can do but lay there, bound as he is in all those straps.  Lay there, and listen for any sound that might let him know what is going on.  But the mask makes even that hard.  He shifts on the bed, trying to turn to the sound to pick out any details.<br/><br/>Jules lays there, then can feel a shift on the bed, and fingers touching him, scratching him.  His head turns to the side, still trying to pick out a sound seeking any clue to the owner of those fingers intentions.  And then a second pair of hands joins in the touching and now pinching.  He wiggles on the bed, trying to twist his body away as the fingers pinch at his vulnerable flesh, as they pinch his breasts, or nipples, or his arm or sides.  When they aren't touching or teasing or stroking him.<br/><br/>One of them pinches his nose shut, and Jules wiggles and squirms, his head twisting to get away from those fingers, desperate to get some air.  Squirming even more as fingers dig into his sides, tickling him.  And he is allowed to breath again, he sucks the air in thru his nose, even as a hand moves over his cock.  All too soon, the hand moves away, to rub him elsewhere, or torment his breasts or nipples, or squeeze his balls, making him wiggle more.  Or, another pinch of his nose.<br/><br/>He may not be able to tell what they are saying, he can hear the giggles as he squirms there uselessly between the two of them.