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Subject: {ASSM} The Road to Hell Pt. 1 by Pami (MM/F, mdom)
Date: Mon,  4 Sep 2000 04:10:07 -0400
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This story contains sexuals words, themes, and actions.  If you are under 21,
go away.  If you don't like this sort of thing, go away.  If, on the other
hand, you do like it and its legal for you to... read on...


I would like to go on record and say that this story is purely fictional,
although the places and some of the characters are not.  I hope no one is
offended.

Please do not post this anywhere without asking me.

HEY YOU.... If you like this... If you don't... drop me an email, ok?  :)

The Road to Hell   by Pami  (MM/F, mdom)


It was a cool night in August.  I know that sounds like a contradiction of
terms, especially for Western Pennsylvania, but it was!  It had been a warm
day, and my friends and I had slipped away from the campsite, ditching the
medieval garb for a brief trip to the state park and its refreshing lake.  And,
of course... the hot showers with running water!  A real shower, with warm
water, is one of those things that you don't really appreciate unless you don't
have it.  Our camp had rigged up a shower with solar shower bags, and we had a
hose for running water, but it wasn't the same.  I personally appreciated the
park showers for the opportunity to really thoroughly wash and condition my
long wavy hair.  I admit it, my hair is one of my conceits.  God gives
everybody something attractive, and in my case, it was the thick golden brown
tresses that cascaded down, just cresting the curve of my lower back.  

Anyway, that night was the party my friend Candy and I waited for all year
long.  One of the larger groups held an annual shindig that was modeled on
Hell, complete with Satan, succubuses, a huge bonfire, and this really potent
drink that actually smoked.  It was actually only the dry ice in it that
smoked, but you get the idea.  They packed in a few hundred people for the
party, and there was always something interesting going on.  It was also an
excuse for some of us to bend the garb rules a bit and wear something a little
more risque than usual.  My first year, I had worn a pink gown, one of my usual
pastels, and I liked to think that I looked like a fallen angel, come down to
visit the darker side.  By now, though, I decided to push the envelope.

"Brandy, are you ready yet?" Candy called through the dusk.  The party started
at O'dark thirty,  we hated to be TOO late, and it was a long walk.

"I'll be right there," I hollered out from my tent.  I took my small hand
mirror and tried to look at myself as full length as possible.  Dressing in
garb and looking presentable really was a challenge when you had a dome tent
where you could only stand up in one spot.  Having a full length mirror was
definitely a no- no, as I had learned a couple of years ago.  Trying to get the
shards off of the nylon floor had been almost impossible without a vacuum.  I
inhaled as deeply as I could,  unzipped the door, and went out.

"Ho-ly shit, girl... what the hell are you wearing?" Candy exclaimed rather
loudly when I approached the campfire.

Of course, everyone turned to look, and I blushed.  You see, I am really NOT a
wild woman.  Mostly.  Unless inspired, at least!  But there was nothing demure
about my outfit this night.  My skirt was black, and split down the front to
show the flame red underskirt I wore.  The black was trimmed at the bottom with
a wonderful gold and red trim I had picked up last year.  I knew it would come
in handy, and when I conceived this outfit, I knew it was meant for it.  I had
skipped my usual white blouse, and just wore the bodice.  Well, it wasn't
really a medieval bodice, per se, it was definitely a corset.

About six months ago, I had secretly ordered a custom made corset.  It was a
whim, and if it looked bad on me, I didn't want anyone to know.  It was one of
those ones that really sucks you in.  Something like women wore in the 1800's,
to create the tiny waists that they prized so much.  Now, I am not a small
woman, and there is no corset in creation that will give me an 18 inch waist,
but I had wanted something to accentuate my curves.  This did the job, and then
some.  Made of black leather - but not the shiny patent leather so popular in
fetish circles, this corset had steel boning in it and started about two inches
below my hips and encased my torso all the way up to about an inch above the
aureolas of my nipples.  And when I was properly laced into it, it turned my
already rather curvaceous body into an hourglass shape of which any 1890's
woman would have been envious.  The corset laced up the back, and I had chosen
a red thong to do it with, in order to match my skirt.  I had wrapped the thong
around my waist and tied it in front, since I knew that I was going to have to
dress myself.  Sometimes being single sucks.  Anyway, since bending over was an
almost impossible challenge, so I had worn my over-the-knee black leather
boots, not wanting to run the risk of having a shoelace that needed tying.  I
had tried variations of this outfit at home, finally settling on this one as
being the most becoming.

Anyway, the reaction of my camp mates was more than satisfying.  The women
exclaimed about how good I looked, and a few of the men chimed in, but it was
the silent reactions of a couple of the guys that told me the truth.  One just
stared at me, and after about five or six minutes, got up and left the fire.  I
noticed the bulge in his crotch first, and I smirked to myself.  The other one
just sat there, shaking his head and looking at me.  He darted glances at his
wife occasionally, who looked somewhat like me, and they had a whispered
conversation, while gesturing towards me.  I imagined that pretty soon, she was
going to own one of these corsets too!

Candy and I set out for the party.  She looked good too, in a white
off-the-shoulder blouse with a green skirt, brought together with a black
leather waist cincher.  As we walked through the near dark, gentlemen of all
shapes and sizes greeted us.  Normally men at the event are courteous, but they
were nicer than usual, asking us where we were going, where we were from,
etc...  Anyway, we had a blast flirting with them.  One thing about the two of
us - although we don't really look that alike, other than both being rather
buxom - we almost share the same personality.  I could tell that she was
excited as I was about the possibilities for the evening ahead of us.  Neither
of us had a steady man, and we readily admitted to each other that a fling
would not be out of the question.

The sounds grew louder as we walked down the hill that approached the party. 
We went around the corner, and saw the fire blazing high as the men juggling
around it.  Lords and ladies in fine garb and crowns mingled with leather-clad
men and women carrying whips.  We approached the gate, and produced our ID for
the guard.  Since we had no pockets, both Candy and I had hidden them in our
bodices.  I struggled to get mine out, no mean feat considering how tightly my
breasts were packed into the corset, and a man behind me offered to help, to
the amusement of his friends and Candy.  I triumphantly pulled out my license,
turned around and answered "Well, I found my ID, but perhaps later milord...
you never know what we may find in there."  I winked and then waltzed through
the gate.  
On the other side of the gate, the gauntlet waited.  In order to enter "Hell",
you had to pass through a double line of men and women holding leather
floggers.  They lightly smacked you on your ass, which hurt not at all through
your clothes, and you were in.  Candy was already more than half way through,
and I plunged in.  I ignored the catcalls and comments I heard as hurried by. 
Play S/M doesn't excite me, but it was one of those things you just had to get
through.

Candy and I went to the "bar" and got ourselves two mugs of the beverage du
jour.  We sipped it and chatted about the men that were there.  After we both
confessed to seeing a couple of men that we thought were cute, we decided to
mingle left.  That meant start out by working through the crowd, from left to
right of the spot we were standing in.  We walked slowly, murmuring to each
other when we saw someone interesting, and I watched as Candy and some good
looking red-haired man gave each other the once over so slowly that I thought
they were going to rip each other's clothes off  right there!  We were far from
the most attractive women there, and we were REALLY far from being the boldest,
but we could hold our own.  

I stopped suddenly and grabbed Candy by her arm.  She turned around, saw my
stare, and asked me who it was.  I was looking at a tall, somewhat husky man,
with long blond hair, and a blond goatee.  He was dressed in a rather
commonplace white pirate type shirt, with a white belt around his waist.  His
black pants were tucked into the tops of his leather boots, and the silver
spurs at his ankles reflected the light of the torches that scattered through
the site.  He was attractive, but far from the best-looking man there.  His
name was Gareth, and I had met him a few years ago at another party.  We had
enjoyed a nice flirtation, and that was it, to my chagrin.  He had been my
ideal knight ever since.  I had looked for him everywhere, but hadn't glimpsed
him once.  Until now.

I told her it was Gareth, and she recognized the name.  "So this is the guy
that you have been after for so long.  Well... no time like the present.  Go
get  -~im, girl," and she pushed me gently in his direction.  

I grabbed her hand, and pulled her along.  I was scared to death to walk up to
him, and I needed moral support.  We got to about 20 feet away and I stopped
dead.

"I can't do it, Candy.  I can't." I told her seriously.  "What if he was just
flirting that time? You know how guys here are... they say anything.  What if
he just thinks I am weird?"

Candy sighed.  "Ok, ok.  I understand.  Let's walk around a little bit more,
and THEN you can talk to him.  Go get us another drink," she told me and handed
me her mug.

I walked back to the bar area and got us refills.  I flirted with the man
holding the pitcher who flirted back at my nearly naked breasts, and then
turned around to find Candy again.  I nearly dropped both of our drinks when I
found her.  She was talking to HIM!  I was gonna KILL her, I vowed to myself. 
I tried to calm myself down as I walked back around the edge of the crowd
toward them.  I could hear them laughing as I got closer.

"Brandy, come here.  I have someone I want you to meet," she called as she saw
me.  I wiped the murderous look off of my face as Gareth turned around.

He smiled and gave me the once over about five times.  I inhaled as deeply as
my laces would allow me, and then jumped as I saw the edge of my left aureola
emerge from the corset.  Both Candy and Gareth laughed as I handed her the mugs
and tried to hide behind her to adjust myself.

Candy introduced me as her evil twin sister, and we both laughed.  Gareth
laughed politely, but I could tell he didn't quite understand the inside joke. 
"Twins in spirit, m'lord," I finally took pity on him.

I smiled and extended my hand towards my dream guy.  He took it and said his
name.  He looked into my eyes, and I could see a question in them.  I decided
not to remind him of where we had met before.

"M'lord, it is such a PLEASURE to meet you," I responded, stressing the word
 -~pleasure' with what I hoped was a sexy tone.  

He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it.  Jesus, I thought I was going to
melt on the ground right them, and it was only my HAND that he was kissing.  As
he kissed it, he pulled me closer, so that I was standing directly in front of
him.  Not more than a handspan was between our bodies, and he looked deeply
into my eyes.  "I know you," he told me in the gravelly tone that I remembered
so vividly.  "Where do I know you from?" he asked me, still not releasing my
hand.

"You tell me, m'lord.  Perhaps a dream?  Or... a nightmare?" I chuckled as I
withdrew my hand from his finally.

He laughed with me, and then casually took my hand as he turned to walk,
tucking in the crook of his arm to take me with him. Candy walked on my other
side, and we promenaded.  

Gareth knew many people, and he introduced us to everyone that stopped him.  I
could tell some of them wanted to know what our relationship was, but were too
polite to ask.  I had done my homework over the past couple of years, and
discovered that Gareth wasn't exactly a one-woman kind of man.  It seemed that
at every long event he picked a new lover, which upset me not at all.  I didn't
want to marry him, after all!

Candy took quite a shine to one gentleman we met, and the last I saw of her,
they were off to the bar area for another drink.  She had asked Gareth to look
out for me, and she was gone.  I knew she would get back to our camp safely, as
I knew the reputation of the lord she left with.

I was thoroughly enjoying myself with the witty repartee that Gareth and I were
indulging in.  This reminded me of when we had met, and I wondered if he had
any more flashes of memory.

I didn't have to wonder any more, as one man in a shiny crown approached us.  I
swept a curtsey, as much as the corset allowed me to anyway, and Gareth bowed. 
It was Richard, the current prince, who was a friend of Gareth's and
coincidentally the host of the party we had met at.  

Gareth went to introduce me, but Richard stopped him.  He and I had bumped into
each other from time to time over the past couple of years, and he said he
remembered me.  He commented on my dress being so different from the other
times that we had met, and he too talked to my breasts, only occasionally
glancing at my face.  Like I said, I am generously endowed, and I wasn't
offended.  I had worn the corset for that reason, after all.  Anyway, he ended
up the conversation by asking Gareth if he would actually escort me home that
evening, NOT like the Tea Party night three years ago when he had disappeared
on me.

After Richard had left us, Gareth turned to me.  He gave me the once over one
more time, and then exclaimed, "I KNEW I knew you!  But my god, woman... your
clothing has changed!"  

I blushed as he once again looked me over from top to toe.  That night so long
ago, I had worn all white with gold edging.  My friends had teased me asked me
where my halo was, since that night I had tried, and apparently succeeded, in
having an innocent appearance.

"Well, M'lord, I knew I was going to Hell tonight.  And when in Rome..." I
teased him.

He laughed, and responded.  "Well, now I know what you look like dressed as an
angel and dressed as a demon.  I wonder what you represent without clothing on
at all."  And he pulled my hand up and kissed it lingeringly.  

I smiled, and felt a pulse between my legs.  I was well on the way to FINALLY
finding out if this guy was as good as he sounded, and I was positive that
tonight would have a much more pleasant evening than that night three years
ago.

We paused in front of the whipping posts, and watched as beautiful women, clad
in corsets similar to mine (where do you think I got the idea?) were
flagellating men and women alike.  It was like a clothed bdsm play party, if
you can imagine THAT, and there were actually people who looked like they were
almost getting off on the whippings through their garb.  "What think you,
m'lady," Gareth leaned down and whispered to me, "would you like a try?"  

"At which, m'lord," I flirted back.  "Being the whipp-ER, or the whipp-EE?"  I
winked at him.

A hush fell over the crowd as the residents of the camp cried for quiet.  It
was no small feat to get about 300 rowdy people to be quiet, but it worked.
They cried for everyone to look toward the camp gate, and as we did, a dark man
with horns and claws and a pitchfork appeared.  Satan was among us, and the
crowd cheered wildly.

I smiled a small smile as I flashed back to last year.  I had gotten the chance
to sit on Satan's lap, and I had fond memories of the package that had nestled
under my ass as I had nestled closer to the devil.   Yep, I thought to myself,
no angel here....unless I truly HAVE fallen.  And I chuckled to myself.  Last
year I had the naughty fantasies about Satan, but this year I had a god to play
with.

Satan made the rounds through the party, eventually drawing close to his
throne.  Coincidentally, Gareth and I had sought semi-quiet near there to
continue our verbal seduction, when up strolled Satan.  He, unbelievably to me,
actually seemed to remember me from last year.

"Would you like to sit on my lap again this year, little girl?" he crooned to
me from his stage as he perched himself on his metal throne.  He actually
patted his crotch as he smiled at me.  "Then again," and he raised his voice so
that many people surrounding him could hear, "there isn't really anything
"little" about you, is there?  Look at that body!  Is today's sin Lust?" He
cried as he pointed his pitchfork at me.  "I think we have a new SUCKubus among
us tonight.  And she is bringing one of the realm's finest to the dark side... 
Where is my whip?  I need to christen a new subject!"  People roared with
laughter as they looked to see who was drawing such attention.

I was mortified.  I had been having such a terrific time that night, and then
this jerk, who I had actually thought was handsome, turned me into a public
show.  Instead of being proud of my garb, as I had been to that point, now I
felt like a freak, and wished for my nondescript brown tunic to cover myself
with.  I only hoped that Gareth wasn't completely disgusted by having everyone
notice him with me.  I felt my eyes brim with tears and I prayed that I
wouldn't totally humiliate myself in front of all of these people.

I felt Gareth grab my hand and pull me through the crowd.   I followed blindly,
stumbling from time to time, not looking up once from the ground.  Finally, the
noise of the crowd faded to a dull roar and we stopped.

We were in a large canvas pavilion.  I could hear the party, not far away, and
I guessed that Gareth had just found the first unoccupied pavilion he saw and
took me in there.  He shut the flap, closing us away from the world, and I
hoped that whoever owned this pavilion wouldn't get upset with us.

He looked at me, no laughter in his expression, and I looked back.  I tried to
inhale deeply, only to look down and see my aureolas both make a surprise
appearance.  Gareth's gaze was directed at my face as I glanced back up at him.
 He spoke.  "He didn't mean to make fun of you, you know.  I know him.  He
wouldn't do that.  It was just for show."

The tears crept to my eyes again, and I blinked.  I felt it.  One tear escaped
and trailed down my right cheek.  "I know," I breathed shakily.  "I know."  And
then I burst into tears.

Gareth pulled me to him, and I cried on his shoulder.  I wasn't quite sure why
I was crying anymore.  But the tears just kept coming.  I hate it when I cry. 
I am not one of those women who look more beautiful when they cry.  I just get
all red in the face and I look like crap.  He stroked my hair, murmuring
comfort words into my head, and eventually it was over.  I was down to those
small in- breath shudders that you get to after a good cry, when you are trying
to stop and almost succeeding.

He pulled my chin up and looked in my face and smiled.  "Better?"  he asked as
he wiped the tracks of the tears from my cheeks.

I smiled back at him.  "I think so."

And that was the moment that it changed.  You have all read about it in books,
and this was just that moment.  When the comforting changes to sexual tension. 
We both just looked at each other.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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