Sarah was not in a good mood. She'd been forced to stay home and watch her baby brother, only to have him kidnapped by a goblin king, which was a situation so bizarre that Sarah was dealing with it by simply ignoring it's inherent weirdness.
She'd just achieved her first minor victory in the labyrinth. At first it had seemed impossible, with a never-ending corridor in one direction that had turned out to be an optical illusion, and the subsequent discovery that the rest of the labyrinth was made up of constantly shifting walls and paths, which kept her from ever keeping an accurate map of it's layout in her head. But now she had just solved her first puzzle. It had taken a bit of mental gymnastics, trying to figure out which of the doors before her contained the path to the castle, but she'd finally figured it out, and so, with her first bit of happiness since she'd entered the maze, she stepped through the door, confident that she was on the right track.
Until the floor fell out from under her. There was a brief moment of free-fall, her long dark hair flew up above her as she plummeted. Sarah let out an involuntary shout. And then she was brushing against something, then several somethings. She felt the walls close in a bit and her fall was quickly slowed. Her stomach turned a bit as she came to a sudden stop in mid air, being held up by...what? She opened her eyes, which she hadn't consciously she'd closed, and realized she was being held aloft by a multitude of hands. They clung to her blue jeaned legs and loose cotton shirt, holding her up over empty air.
"Yuck!" she sputtered. The appearance of the hands was a bit unsightly. They seemed to be covered in loose skin, though they were quite rough to the touch. And though they were obviously strong and healthy to be holding her up, they seemed to terminate in a cold stone wall. To top it all off, the hands were a cool blue-grey in color.
"Help!" she then shouted, more as an automatic response than anything else. "Stop it! Help!"
Suddenly the hands next to her head moved. Two hands formed circles for eyes, another became a fist of a nose, and two more formed a heart-shaped mouth below that.
"What do you mean, ‘help'?" The voice seemed curiously rich for something that was coming out of dead air.
Another set of hands formed another faux face and said, "We are helping."
"We're helping hands," added another set.
"You're hurting," Sarah said. Indeed, the hands were holding her rather tightly about the upper arms and thighs.
"Would you like us to let go?" they asked. A hand at her left ankle let go, and he foot hung in dizzying air.
"No!" shouted sarah. The hands tightened their grips in response, and more sets moved in to hold her sides and legs.
Sarah was now becoming aware of just how many hands were touching her. She couldn't give an accurate count, but there were a lot of them, and the number seemed to be growing. She briefly wondered if this was one creature with many hands, or many hands that acted together, or something altogether different.
She was brought back into reality by the realization that there were now two hands holding her up by her inner thighs, and another pair's fingers were just below her breasts, which gently brushed against them whenever she took a breath.
For a second she didn't know what to do. She was being held by several hands, none of which she had any control over. They also seemed to be growing out of a solid wall, which killed any notion of aiming for the crotch if they didn't stop moving in on her erogenous zones.
"Cut it out!" she said.
Five hands formed a mockingly innocent face in front of her head and said, "Cut what out?"
The hands below her breasts suddenly slid up her torso, and before she knew what was happening, they were cupping her breasts and gently rubbing them in opposing circles.
Sarah let out a quick, involuntary sigh of pleasure.
She'd never had anyone touch her breasts like this before. Sarah's obsession with old fantasy novels had made her a bit of a social outcast at school. Some people had taken to calling her "fairy freak". And her tendency to wear loose, flowing shirts had hidden from the boys that she had grown a very nice pair of breasts. So to suddenly have strong, and surprisingly warm, hands caressing her in such a skillful way was enough to give her an involuntary shudder.
She sighed again, and said "Stop touching my breasts." Her voice didn't sound very forceful to her.
One hand slid down her ass out of nowhere and was suddenly pressing against her crotch. It was warm and strong, and it firmly rubbed against her, sending a shiver up her spine that seemed to be trying to tell her something.
"Stop doing what?" the hands asked.
