"...yes, boss."

The hellsquigglers wriggle in their glass jar on your desk. They’re long, thin, slimy creatures, a bit like worms, a bit like lengths of independent tentacle. Some are smooth, some are knobbly, and some are even fuzzy. They come in shades of pink, purple and green. They squirm, coil, writhe and pulsate, looking unpleasant to the touch.

“Hah! I win again!”

“I’m totally picking rock next time,” mutters Florence, reluctantly unfastening her bra. She and Janet are playing strip rock-paper-scissors on the floor of your office. Since the two women viciously despise each other, it’s always interesting to watch them compete. She stands before you in her black satin panties, her silky slender beauty exposed in your warm office light. She tucks her right arm protectively over her smallish breasts and says “Let’s go.”

“Wow! You actually did pick rock.”

“I thought you’d think I was bluffing,” complains Florence, kicking her panties off her ankles. She cups her left hand over her pussy and looks down at the floor, shamefaced, not liking the way Janet is sneering at her. “Okay, fine. You win. Are you happy now?”

“Not quite, Florence. There’s still the little matter of your forfeit.”

“Fine! Get it over with!”

Florence bends over your desk, her pert ass raised in the air. Janet brings the cane down a savage thwip, savoring her rival’s squeals. She takes her time, plying the cane dextrously, drawing every moment of the ass-whipping out as long as possible, raising red lines across Florence’s silky skin as the Chinese concubine yelps, whimpers, shifts her weight from foot to foot and pleads for a mercy that’s not forthcoming.

“Okay,” she says, a long, painful time later. “That’s a good start. Now, Florence, for your real punishment. You know those new nightmares you’ve been inventing? The really horrible, humiliating, personal ones that bring a girl’s worst and sexiest fears to life?”

“...yes?”

“You’re going to test those out. All of them.”

“But… but… I made them really awful!”

“I know!”

A few moments later Florence is trapped in one of her own nightmare bubbles, her memories adjusted to make her think it’s all real, which it actually is, because everything’s real in Hell. She stands naked before the whole Tang imperial court, with all the other concubines chuckling at her and even the emperor cracking a smile. Janet peers into the bubble, a smile on her face.

“Serves that bitch right,” she says. “Now, Sitri, you wanted to see me about something?”

“I do, Janet. What do you think of these?”

“The squigglers?” Janet looks at the jar. Self-consciously, she hunches her shoulders together a little bit, suddenly remembering she’s still in her lacy white bra and panties. “Um… they seem… creepy? I don’t really like them, to be honest, boss.”

“Why not, Janet?”

“They just… they look a bit…” Janet can't repress a shudder. “They look a bit pervy, boss. I don’t like the way they wriggle around. I feel like they want something from me, and I don’t want to give it to them.”

“What do you think it would be like to touch them, Janet?”

“Uggh! No, thank you!”

“Janet?”

“Yes, boss?”

“Put the squigglers in your panties, Janet.”

“...yes, boss.”