HELL

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Margie looked on in trepidation at the shrinking queue in front of her. Piercing screams and the sobs of desperate young women filled the smoky chamber.

The devil did not look like Margie had pictured him, more like Heath Ledger with a depraved smile. There were no pitchforks either, only vicious straps and crook handled canes hanging from the bedrock walls.

The line inched forward. Margie could see the tears dripping off a petite blonde's face as the Devil blistered her bare bottom with an oak brush. Allison, a brunette in line behind Margie who she'd met earlier, whispered in her ear, "Don't worry, he normally isn't so hard on you the first time."

At last it was Margie's turn. She was relieved the wait was over, yet fearful of the thick 12" ruler in the Devil's hands.

He looked her up and down, sporting a baneful grin. "You like this, don't you?" the Devil asked.

Margie blushed red. There were no secrets from the Devil.

"Back of the line with you! No spankings for you in Hell.... EVER," he said.

Margie went to the back of the line humiliated, sobbing, and dripping with unfulfilled arousal.