Part 39
The Seven Circles of Hell
Several weeks earlier … Just two days after Lena’s and Mina’s secret and forbidden visit to Abyss and the Dance on the Razor’s Edge, Evelyn paced the dimly lit corridors of her private chamber in Club Abyss, her mind swirling with the implications of the letter she clutched tightly in her hand. The words etched on the thick parchment were both a challenge and a threat:
"Evelyn,
Lena and Mina have returned to Abyss, their presence unnoticed by you. Despite the curses of the Caps of Despair and the Rings of Eternal Longing, their desire remains unbroken. Their resilience has caught our attention, and Lena is now considered as a potential successor to you. The idea of a chaste hostess is appealing to us.
Your failure to detect their visit in disguise has been noted.
You now face a choice: propose a challenge for Lena, a test of her endurance and resolve. If you decide not to issue a challenge, you will be cursed with your own Cap of Despair, but you will retain your position as hostess of Abyss. Also here, the idea of a chaste hostess is appealing to us.
Should you propose a challenge and she fails, her path to redemption is closed, and she will never threaten your position again. However, if she masters it, she earns the right to a final duel with you.
Be warned: the challenge you set for Lena will mirror back upon you. You must prove your endurance through a related trial. Only if you succeed will you have the power to define the stakes of the final duel, as mild or as severe as you wish.
If you fail your part of the trial, the owners will set the stakes of the duel. The winner will ascend as the new hostess of Abyss, while the loser will be retired to the needle coffin.
Failure to manage this situation adequately will lead to consequences beyond ordinary retirement. The owners are watching, and they will act accordingly."
Evelyn’s breath caught at the mention of the Needle Coffin. Though its exact nature was shrouded in mystery, she knew enough to dread it. The coffin was rumored to be a device of long-term confinement, where the occupant would endure perpetual, agonizing pain from countless needles pressing into their flesh, paired with amplifying their unfulfilled sexual desires. The mere thought of such a fate sent a shiver down her spine.
Evelyn sat heavily in her chair, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. Accepting the challenge would give Lena a path to redemption - a chance to overthrow Evelyn and seize control of Abyss. But rejecting it would bind Evelyn to the Cap of Despair, a curse she had inflicted on others, reducing them to hollow shells consumed by endless longing for orgasmic bliss that would not come again. She remembered the nipples of course, but still, it would not ever be nearly the same quality of relief, and she highly doubted that the Count would not issue her the Cap of Despair as an upgraded version to naturally include the Rings of Longing with their own little caps, even if not explicitly mentioned. After all, "Cap" could very well include the caps on the rings. Words are important in Abyss. The word being underlined in the letter was not a good sign.
The Cap of Despair was a torment she had watched with cold satisfaction as it broke Lena and Mina. The constant ache of them fed Evelyn well. But to endure it herself, to feel that constant ache and longing, was a prospect she couldn’t bear. She would be drained at a rate, until she was slowly turned into an empty husk of a woman. She would age unless she’d find a stable of pain slaves to feed upon. No, the Cap was unthinkable for her. Yet, the alternative - the Needle Coffin - was an even more horrifying fate. And ‘retirement’ was a very long time for her indeed.
Evelyn clenched her fists, the reality of her predicament sinking in. She had no choice but to accept and devise a challenge that would push Lena to her limits, making sure that she would never master it.
Her thoughts turned to the Cursed Clarinet - a perfect challenge for Lena and Mina. A well used toy designed for performances much more sexual than what happened in the club. She learned from the owners that Lena and Mina were using their own double dildo all the time. She’d love to take it away from them, making them throw it away and replacing it with a cursed version. The clarinet, a special toy, a double-sided dildo with hidden spikes and studs, demanded flawless synchronization. Every movement not mirrored by either partner would activate the spikes, punishing them for even the slightest error. The studs would extend more the less the dildo was penetrating. The challenge would require them to play through the seven songs, designed by the artisans of Abyss. She knew that they would of course be based on the bass heavy techno music, possible with some slower passaged. This sequence of songs were composed by the artisans of Abyss and known by the ominous name "Seven Circles of Hell", each increasing in complexity and length.
Evelyn smiled coldly. The Clarinet would test not only their skill but their endurance and unity. It was the perfect way to either break them so she would not be challenged into a final duel. The mere thought of Lena and Mina fucking each other to rapid techno beats while trying to maintain mirrored movements brought a smile to her face. This would be the challenge. For her own part in it, she had the vague idea that her own trial would probably be a similar dildo, designed for a single player. She knew how to masturbate with toys. With ease she would be able to follow a rhythm.
She would gather all the life energy she could get from Abyss’ regular guests.
Ana. Maybe she could trick her into a third year, that would sustain the baseline flow of energy. To her, each chastity device was a battery to be used.
Nadia. Elise was onto her, still, always. Nadia was weak and desperate, she could be maneuvered into long-term suffering. When Nadia or Elise would ask for their next challenge, she would be ready to present Nadia with the Rubber Suit of Resolve. This would give her a constant and high intake of Nadia’s energy, enough to coast through the Circles of Hell with ease and to condemn Lena.
The challenge was issued and Evelyn was informed the next day that the Clarinet had been delivered to Lena.
A day later, Evelyn received a package of her own. Inside was a pair of the Stilettos of the Languished Arches, the same ones she had mastered long ago. Accompanying them was a note:
"Evelyn,
You are not exempt from the trials you impose. You will endure the Seven Circles of Hell, not through the symphony of unison with a partner, but through sensual dancing to the tunes. These familiar heels will be your test. You will wear them, barefoot, as you as well listen to the songs of each of the seven circle. Should you succeed, you may set the stakes of the final duel. If you fail, the owners will set the stakes, and the loser of the duel will find herself retired within a very comforting embrace."
Included was a link to the first song.
Evelyn’s confidence surged as she slipped on the Stilettos of the Languished Arches in her chamber. She had worn them many times before in the decades past, mastering the art of dancing through the pain they inflicted. Of course she knew about the contact sensors which would spring the spikes out when anything other than skin was detected. The spikes hidden within the soles were familiar companions, and she knew how to endure them even when they were extended and she was able to move with precision to minimize their sting. In fact, she has learned, and endured, and proven in previous dance duels, that she can master even fixed, permanent erect spikes in her shoes. Indeed, a twenty-minute song on fixed spikes should win her a duel with Lena with certainty.
She started the first track, "Abyss: The First Circle of Hell," began to play. The haunting melody was slow and deliberate, matching the 3-minute and 11-second duration. Evelyn moved with grace, her steps light and measured. The spikes dormant under her feet, but she barely noticed. This was a test she could handle with ease. Her phone buzzed, a text arriving. Apparently this pair of the Languished Arches was different, having their own uplink to report on her success.
The subsequent tracks followed, each slightly longer and more demanding. The second circle stretched to just over 4 minutes, the third approaching 7 minutes. Evelyn remained composed, her movements fluid, her endurance unwavering. The spikes, while ever-present, were a discomfort she had long since mastered.
As the tracks continued, her confidence grew. The fourth circle, nearly a 10 minute dance in the Stilettos of the Languished Arches, and the fifth, pushing past 15, were well manageable. She called it a night, smiling at the thought that Lena and Mina would spend significant time on the first songs, getting their insides raked and spiked. They would be so worked up within their permanent denial and under the curses of their caps. The Clarinet would fan their inextinguishable fires into an inferno. They would break on the Cursed Clarinet.
She would breeze through her task and she would set her own stakes of the final duel, if Lena ever demanded that. She would maybe choose the needle frame? Maybe dream up additions? Maybe electrified needles? Or maybe just a longer time? But nothing, so, so… long. Nothing so, so … embracing.
The sixth circle, lasting just under 20 minutes, was more challenging during the next night, but Evelyn remained focused, her years of experience and resilience serving her well. The spikes greeted her several times, but she dances through their sting, being strong enough to ignore their nuisances.
It wasn’t until she completed the sixth circle that she finally glanced at the length of the seventh track. Her heart stopped. "Abyss: The Seventh Circle of Hell" was an astonishing 3 hours long.
Panic gripped her as she realized the enormity of the task. Dancing continuously for three hours, even in normal shoes, would be a monumental challenge at her age. But in the Stilettos of the Languished Arches, with their spikes pressing into her feet, it seemed an impossible feat. If she had certain powers, these special shoes would not allow them to sway the dance in her favor. The shoes were harmless for her, but not for three hours.
Her confidence wavered as the music for the seventh circle began, the slow, haunting melody signaling the start of a grueling endurance test. Evelyn’s breaths came quicker, her mind racing. She knew she had to persevere - failure meant leaving her fate in the hands of the owners, with the needle coffin looming as a terrifying possibility.
As the first notes played, Evelyn began to move, her steps precise but hesitant. The spikes pressed deeper into her bare soles with every shift, and she felt the weight of the challenge pressing down on her like never before. The prospect of three hours of nonstop dancing in locked heels stretched before her, a daunting marathon that tested not just her body, but her very will. Evelyn knew she couldn’t afford to fail. She would have to summon every ounce of strength and endurance she had left. The stakes were too high, and the specter of the needle coffin loomed too close. With determination etched into her features, she continued, each step a battle against the inevitable.
She lasted twenty-eight minutes before she went down on her knees, the spikes extending fully as a reaction. They stayed that way. She quickly understood what was happening. The Count was draining her. She would be languished, her energy drained out through the soles of her own feet, the Mistress’s Soles. Someone else would need to suffer, and deeply. Pain was currency in Abyss, and chastity was a reservoir. Ana’s and Alina’s denial, carefully cultivated and prolonged, still gave her nourishment. Nadia, in her sealed silence, offered the richest reserve of all - a long-term wager with no defined end, a fountain of energy. But she knew how quickly such wells ran dry - if Alexandru and Elise split up, she would be in trouble as long as she didn’t master the Seventh Circle.
She was aware that while trying, prolonged painful dances on those Heels would drain enough that she would be looking older again. She could offset it temporarily, if she would get someone into pain again, the Needle Frame maybe. She wasn’t in danger. Not yet. But she was watching the time left on Ana’s and Alina’s keys. If their terms ended before she rebalanced the flow, she would be vulnerable.
There were always whispers about what happened to her predecessor. She had failed, they said - not in spectacle or poise, but in volume. She had let the suffering soften, had allowed mercy to dull the teeth of Abyss. She delivered less than what Abyss needed, and the Count had drained her. Some say she still lives, below the club, a husk, aged and in suffering. Sealed in a tomb somewhere beneath the foundation - a coffin, they say. Some say it’s latex-lined. Some say it’s laced with blunt moving needles. The source of the rumors about the needle coffin. Well founded rumors. For the Count, it would be merely a battery, providing long-term sustenance. For her it would be hell. A painful, endless stasis. Aging slowly. Forgotten officially. Remembered only in the flinches of the newer hostesses.
Evelyn would not join her.
She would find someone. Someone to suffer beautifully, unceasingly. She would keep the pain flowing.
The final duel awaited, and Evelyn understood that this was more than a test of endurance - it was a fight for her very place in Abyss. Whatever lay ahead, she would face it with the same cold resolve that had kept her in power for so long. The future of Abyss would be decided soon, and Evelyn intended to emerge victorious, no matter the cost.
Remarks: the inspiration for the needle coffin comes from the Torei Discord, or Torei/Torean wiki, a fictional universe where an Iron Maiden like device exists with spikes is used in a similar manner, containing a rubberized slave, for a life sentence.