You meet your

You close your eyes just before you smash into the ground, and a second later you're looking up, not feeling any pain, amazed you're still able to do so.

Standing there, looking down at you, smiling, is a dark-haired white-skinned goth girl, wearing tight black leather and fishnets. "Surprised you're alive?" she says. "Well, news flash, you're not." She walks up to you, swinging a dog collar. "I'm ****," she says, "and I'm one harsh mistress."

She bends down, fastening the collar round your neck. and then gets back to her feet, turning her back on you, and yanks on your chain. "So, now you get to be my dog, or should that be my hellhound, because that's where you're going... but you must have known that, you worthless piece of shit." She pulls again, harder, **** you, so you have to follow her. You're pulled along on all fours, though you get to admire the view, transfixed by her rear as she walks along, her tight black miniskirt barely covering her pale shapely buttocks, and at the base of her spine, an ankh tramp stamp.

She looks back at you. "Seems my dog has a long tail, but they'll take care of that in Hell. Those bitches will teach you obedience, they'll teach you to beg."

And that's when you notice you're no longer in the outside world. Your surroundings are all hot and red and fiery, accentuating ****'s cold beauty. In front of you there is now a row of doors, all the same, with letters above them spelling out 'SMALLVILLE'.

"Now you get to pick a door," **** says. "Pick wisely, because you're going to spend eternity there, though it will seem longer." She points to the letters above the ten doors. "Like all good things, they start with S and M," she says, "and each letter indicates which of the Smallville ladies will be waiting for you behind each door, ready to have their fun with you. They've been here centuries devising ways to hurt you, so hurry up and pick. I wouldn't advise keeping them waiting."