"Bring in the latest to be sentenced!" a voice boomed from the chamber ahead.
Amy's head drooped, casting a dim shadow on the cold, stone floor. Behind her, an armored guard prodded her with the butt of his spear, leading her to stumble. The guard roughly grabbed her by her ragged cloth robe and dragged her into the room.
The sentencing chamber was a small, sparsely furnished room, lit by a ring of torches. Seated at the center of the room was a bearded, elderly man in a judge's robe, his eyes turned towards a scroll in front of him. An imposing desk, taking up nearly half the room, stood between him and her. The guard pushed Amy to her knees and then strode to the back of the room, his armor clanging noisily.
"You have been convicted of deep crimes against the church and its sanctity," the judge murmured, not looking up from the scroll. "You have offered no defense for yourself, but repentance is still possible."
He looked up at her, his gaze piercing. "Recite your crimes."
Amy could hardly bear his accusing gaze. "I..."
"Do it."
"Wantonness," she said shakily. "Harlotry. Polluting sacred ground with my carnality."
"Indeed," he murmured. "We have a final test for ones such as you, to determine your sentence. Stand."
As she rose, she could see the room had changed. It was now surrounded by mirrors, but they only reflected her; the judge nor the desk were caught in the reflection. "What...?" she stammered.
The judge cut her off by gesturing to the guard. In one stride his hands were upon her. Before she knew what was happening, he had ripped the robe off her body. She saw her nakedness reflected all around her at every angle, the first time in years she had seen the fullness of her body. She was pleased to see herself again, and slightly smiled unwittingly.
The judge hissed. "Narcissism."
Forlorn, Amy realized she failed the test. She attempted to back away from the judge, shielding her nudity with her hands, one between her legs, one over her breasts. The guard behind her pushed her to back to the middle of the room.
"Tell me, have you ever pleasured yourself while looking at your reflection?"
Amy looked down. "Yes."
The judge tsked. Amy looked up, and the reflections in the mirrors had changed. They were moving of their own accord. It was still Amy, nude, but she was pleasuring herself in myriad ways. In one reflection she was on her knees, her hands reaching down to furiously rub herself. In another, she was straddling the edge of a table. In another she was inserting a wooden phallus into herself. Amy could not draw her eyes away.
She then heard wet sounds from the middle of the room. The desk had vanished, and kneeling in front of the judge was a woman. Though Amy could not clearly see, the woman's head was bobbing up and down in front of the judge's waist, slurping noisily at his body. The judge's eyes did not leave Amy as she continued her work, her head moving faster and faster. The woman released herself suddenly as the judge's eyes flinched. He had came, Amy realized.
The apparition stood slowly, in an almost unearthly way. As it turned, Amy gasped as she realized it was her, but not her. The woman's body was covered in tattoos that seemed to shift and burn by themselves. Her nails were a sharp red. Small horns protruded from her forehead. A demon.
The demoness raised a hand, and Amy's body became paralyzed, her arms splayed. With a curled finger, Amy floated helplessly towards the judge and demon, unable to cry out.
As Amy's body floated a foot from the demon, the demon took her hand and placed it between Amy's legs. A finger slithered into her womanhood, unlike any finger she had known. "Wet and dripping," the demon said, in a voice that was Amy's but yet not.
The judge sighed in deep resignation. "Were you simply aroused at the sight of yourself performing carnal acts? Or did you want to do it yourself, even in your current situation?"
The judge drew himself up. "You stand condemned. Custody of your soul is handed to Asmodea."
The demon's tattoos glowed with a bright fire, and Amy felt a ray of sensation burst through her body from its finger. Amy's body shook as a cauldron of pleasure and fear overcame her.
The ground underneath Amy melted away, revealing a fiery orange portal. Asmodea withdrew her finger, and flicked her juices into the portal. The flames within flared, and Amy felt herself falling. The judge's room fell away, and Amy tumbled, downwards, downwards, into a spinning tube of flame, stretching endlessly out beneath her.
And then suddenly she was dumped onto land again, or what seemed like it. The ground underneath her was mushy, gray; cushion-like with the appearance of mud. She looked out to the horizon, to a flat, formless land. Overhead the sky smoldered with a dull orange-gray, but without a single cloud.
Gingerly, she stood. Looking down, her body was whole. To check her sanity, she ran her hands over her face, her neck, down her breasts. She felt a strange tingle, sensations as she was unused to. She gasped slightly. "What...where..."
"Where are you?" a presence behind her spoke. It was Asmodea. "Where do you think you are?"
Amy gulped. "I...I..."
"Hell?" Asmodea chuckled, completing her thought. "Hmm..." Asmodea circled Amy, leaving her in suspense. She traced a finger around Amy's waist, tracing the curves of her buttocks, down around her pubis.
"We are in a place of your own creation," Asmodea said. "This realm is yours to to express your desires."
Amy raised an eyebrow, confused.
