Three and a half torturous days after her enraged husband Charles strapped her within that diabolically brutal Iron Maiden Daphne finally met her richly deserved fate, a slow agonizing death impaled upon the Iron Maiden’s razor-sharp spikes...

Daphne awoke only to discover she’d died and gone to Hell, high in a tower overlooking Hell’s endless lakes of fire, the air thick with the smell of fire and brimstone, roar of the flames doing little to block the desperate screams of the damned. And in a profound demonic twist of irony, Daphne awoke to find herself already strapped tightly within another Iron Maiden, a fact not lost to an adulteress who’d spent the final unspeakably torturous days of her mortal existence slowly dying within one.

Still dressed in the corset and high heels she’d been wearing when she died, Daphne was just beginning to notice how uncomfortably warm the Iron Maiden’s claustrophobic metal sarcophagus was getting when an evil-looking horned demon suddenly materialized directly before her.

“Welcome to the darkest depths of Hell Daphne. I am the demon Verdelet, tasked by Satan to greet those judged guilty of the sin of adultery. I need only gaze upon you to comprehend the mortal sins that forever stain your soul.”

Verdelet’s smile darkened as he continued, “Of course, even I couldn’t have planned a punishment more fitting or more diabolically fiendish than the one you’ve already selected, the Iron Maiden. Here in the all-consuming fires of Hell, you’re going to pay for all the sins you committed during your pathetic moral existence, an endless eternity suffering in agonizing unrelenting torment, forever impaled upon the Iron Maiden’s spikes.”

Unexpectedly, even as the spike-line door of the Iron Maiden slowly swung closed, Verdelet found it unsettling that Daphne didn’t seem to panic or desperately start begging for mercy. And the look in Daphne’s eyes, not that familiar look of terror and fear he’d grown accustomed to seeing, instead a look that in all his long millennia of experience as one of Hell’s demons he couldn’t begin to recognize. Still, as the Iron Maiden finally closed, Verdelet felt a profoundly satisfying sense of demonic delightful at the sound of Daphne’s high-pitched, blood-curdling screams echoing across Hell’s endless lakes of fire. Perhaps, in a century or two, he’d return to check up on Daphne’s eternal damnation...

Two hundred and thirty-six years later, Verdelet finally remembered to check up on Daphne only to discover something truly unexpected. Rather than the eagerly anticipated taste of Daphne’s overwhelming terror, her mind radiated a decidedly different emotional sensation, one profoundly shocking from his perspective, one of all consuming masochistic pleasure.

“Well, it’s been over a decade since Verdelet released me from that delightfully torturous Iron Maiden. After that, he tried subjecting me to just about every demonic torment imaginable but always with the same result. It didn’t matter how extreme the torture, lakes of fire, even pits of boiling oil. Nothing he tried managed to exceed my darkly masochistic ability to derive intense erotic pleasure from my own suffering.”

Pausing, as one of the recently deceased materialized before her, Daphne spun him around and stabbing her red latex sheathed fingers deep into his back, ripped his entire skeleton out of his body. Then, negligently tossing his bloody skeleton onto one of the nearby piles, she casually used the toe of one of her ballet boots to nudge his boneless remains into the fires of the pit.

“Eventually, Verdelet accepted the truth, even Hell itself, had no torment that I wouldn’t find masochistically enjoyable. Of course, that didn’t mean that my well justified torment would end, just that it would take a diabolical and subtlety demonic direction.”

Pausing again, to rip the skeleton out of another recently deceased sinner, Daphne kicked the woman’s boneless screaming remains into the fires of the pit.

“One might say that my eternal damnation became Verdelet’s personal project. He cursed me and dooming me to an eternity as his slave, transformed into a being half human, half demon, a succubus. The horns and tail are real, the form-fitting red latex cat suit, with a matching corset and ballet boots, one of Verdelet’s more sadistic touches. This ensemble is not only extremely uncomfortable but impossible to remove, and even in the fires of Hell still not uncomfortable enough for me to gain masochistic pleasure from my considerable discomfort.”

Momentarily distracted by the arrival of another recently deceased sinner, Daphne paused to rip the skeleton out of the startled looking teenage girl’s body before casually kicking her screaming remains into the flames of the pit.

“Most mortals never fully comprehend the true nature of sin, that any transgression, even the minor ones, if the sinner dies unrepentant consigns their soul to the eternal fires of Hell. Hell's demons, ones like my master Verdelet, deal with those sinners who’ve committed serious offenses. As a succubus, I spend my days dealing with sinners guilty of the little things, like unpaid parking tickets. Or ones, like that surprised looking teenager I just consigned to the fires of Hell, her damning sin, borrowing twenty dollars from her mom’s purse without asking first.”

Leaning on her staff in a futile attempt to relieve some of the unrelenting discomfort caused by her impossibly tight-fitting ballet boots, a sad smile of erotic frustration slowly appeared on Daphne’s lovely face.

“In the end, Verdelet managed to find the perfect punishment for me, condemned to an eternity of unrelenting discomfort, forever denied my own darkly masochistic sexual gratification, while consigning countless others to suffer the agonizing torment I so desperately crave. Welcome to my Hell...”