Hands

So I have this fantasy that goes something like this:

I'm sitting on a throne in an opulent room. Bright rich drapes line the walls and don't quite hide the gilded and bejeweled dungeon accoutrements strewn around the room. A veiled slave girl leads you into the room and gestures for you to kneel at my feet before silently shutting the door behind her.

I spend some time inspecting you from all sides before grabbing you by the hair and dragging you onto your back. You're on the floor and I'm in your face with my hands around your neck. I'm enjoying watching the veins bulge above my grip, and the flush slowly creeping up your face.

"I have something to show you," I say. Closing my eyes, I breathe deep and exhale, loosening my self-control. I open my eyes to watch your reaction as my skin turns a very pale lilac and my eyes flood to black. Rather than letting you gasp your surprise, I tighten up on your neck. Your hips thrust convulsively, in thrall to the pain, before I let up to hear you gulp breath.

After a few moments I can see the second realization slide behind your eyes as you silently begin to count the hands on you. One hand on your face, holding your gaze to mine. Two around your throat, squeezing lightly. Another on your cock. Two more leaving fine red lines in the wake of my nails on your chest. But we're alone. I smile darkly, and suddenly you notice that my teeth seem sharper than they did moments ago.

"Do you know what I am?" I ask.

You swallow fearfully, and the drag of your Adam's apple across my hands makes you wince. "A goddess," you whisper.

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This is just one version of this fantasy. The details may vary, but mostly it's all about the six hands. I mean, can you imagine? I could have a different flogger/whip/paddle/candle/needle/whatever in each hand. It would be a symphony of thuddy/stingy/sharp/burny/scratchy/etc, and you would never know which would fall next. Oh, the delightful torture possibilities!