Strength

The mirrors showed hands.

Strong, obviously male hands, groping and squeezing the bodies of women. Picking them up. Pinning them down against silk sheets. Groping their breasts. Fondling their bottoms. Pulling their hair. Squeezing their thighs. Cupping their mounds of Venus.

It was clear from the casual way they pinched, weighed and caressed that they were interested in their own pleasure, not the women's. They wanted to feel up the girls for the sheer pleasure of feeling them up, finding out exactly what the girls' breasts and bottoms and vaginas felt like. The girls didn't have any say in the matter. They were toys for the entertainment of the men. And the men were much stronger than they were, so they couldn't get away.

Bonnie yelped and swatted at nothing as an invisible hand squeezed her bottom, cheekily assessing the weight and heft of her pert posterior. It gave her a firm grope, and she heard the ghost of a faint chuckle from somewhere very far away. She twisted and turned, incredibly annoyed, trying to shake off the fondling hand, and felt another one settle on her left breast.

"Hey," snapped Susie, wriggling around, trying to find the source of the invisible molestations. "You can't touch me there.... no! EEEK!"

Bonnie felt, very distinctly, one warm strong male hand on each of her lovely buttocks, and another on each of her pert pink-nippled breasts. Plus another between her legs, thoughtfully cupping and toying with her pussy. They weighed her up, fondling her curiously, tweaking her nipples and bouncing her breasts, driving her on with little slaps on the bottom. No matter how much she stamped her feet and scowled and told them to fuck off, she couldn't make them go away.

And all around her, on every side, were women in the same helpless predicament. How infuriating! All Bonnie and Susie could do was walk very slowly through this maddening section of the maze, allowing the strong ghost hands to grope their breasts and bottoms as much as they pleased.