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WingZ · Site Admin Joined: 15 Aug 2008 Posts: 127

Welcome, everybody, to the Night Gallery. This was originally a TV series created and hosted by Rod Serling (of Twilight Zone fame). Each episode started with a painting, which in fact turned out to be a scene captured from some horrific tale. Since Mr. Serling is unfortunately no longer with us, I have infringed upon many copyright laws and common decency to step into his shoes. Our story tonight, as you can see by looking into (OK, picturing in your head) the painting on my left, is one of both happiness and sadness. A girl is smiling despite tears in her eyes. Why? Stay tuned, for you are about to find out.....

Chapter 1
“Wake up precious,” said a serpentine voice from the darkness.

Cheryl’s eyes slowly trickled open. Yup, she was still trapped in this awful nightmare. She found herself now trapped in some sort of a cage. Her hands were cuffed to the bars and as the cage was quite short, she was reduced to kneeling. An object of some sort was shoved painfully up her rectum and she was covered in what seemed like 20 layers of diapers. A rubber gag wedged in her mouth prevent her from crying out against any of this, though tears did flow freely from her eyes. One solitary question burned in her mind: why?

Just an hour ago, 15 year old Cheryl Harper was having the time of her life. She and her friends had decided to spend a day in the city. After getting an OK from their parents, they all hopped on a bus for the ride in. They went shopping and managed to take in a concert and a baseball game as well. After lunch, a minor conflict arose: nobody in the group could agree what to do next. A plan was hatched in which everyone would simply go their separate ways and meet back at a designated destination at 5:00. The 4 girls shook on it and headed off in different directions.

Cheryl decided that she wanted to visit the museum of art. This suggestion had drawn hysterical laughter from her friends, but now that she was alone there was nobody to chide her. Paintings and sculptures intrigued her and she made it her business to see as much as she could while she was here. Cheryl paid the admission and began walking the building's many halls. She was intrigued by the sheer volume of works, but to her disappointment found one that struck her imagination. Tired of looking, she sat down on a nearby bench and hoped something would happen.

“Having a good time?” asked the man sitting next to her on the bench. He looked to be in his thirties, with dark brown hair and a moustache and goatee. His eyes were oddly striking and his figure lithe but commanding.

“Yeah lots of fun,” Cheryl replied sarcastically, not paying the man much heed. She was 15 years old, stood an unimpressive 5’2” and had short hair of a slightly darker shade then this gentlemen. Her eyes were brown as well, dull reflectors of the culturally dying soul inside of her.

“That’s a shame,” commented the stranger. “You know, they tend to keep the good stuff towards the back.”

Cheryl perked up and sat at attention. “Good stuff?”

“Yes. It probably wouldn’t interest you. It’s not for all tastes and you are but a young girl.....”

“First of all, I’m a woman not a girl,” she said matter-of-factly. “And secondly, how do you know what would interest me or not?”

“Very well,” he said in a resigned sigh. “Follow me if you wish.”

She got up and followed him. They walked through a door she hadn't previously noticed into a dimly lit section of the museum. Cheryl thought the surroundings a bit odd, but it only added to her excitement. Whatever treasure lay beyond was certainly worth the mystery.

The man walked to the center of the room and pulled a hidden switch. The lights slowly flickered on and suddenly Cheryl found herself surrounded by walls full of paintings. Some were vividly repulsive, depicting violence and nudity in the extreme. Others were oddly sublime. All were part of a collection entitled hell, the gentleman informed her.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “They all look so different.”

“For most people,” he said expertly. “Hell is a subjective experience. Everyone has their own fears and desires.”

“Oh.”

“So tell me something Cheryl, what’s your desire?”

She withdrew a bit in surprise.

“How did you know my name?”

“Oh, I know a lot about you.”

She took another step backward.

“Don’t be scared. You see, I’m here to offer you a once in a lifetime opportunity. I can give you the one thing you want. All you have to do is tell me something that your afraid of in addition. Of course, if your not up to the task, there's the door....”

Cheryl continued to back up until she was breathing heavily and had one foot almost out the door. All she had to do was turn and run but she couldn’t. She felt oddly drawn to the aura of the room and the man in front of her. Besides, if this really was her one chance, she didn’t want to blow it.

“All right,” she said, claming down a bit. “If I tell you my dream, will your promise not to laugh?”

“Of course I won’t,” he said, sounding quite offended. “Now by all means, please tell.”

She took a deep breath and began telling her biggest desire.

“I want to create something,” she began. “I don’t care what it is. I want it to have my name on it and I want it to be something people will remember. It has to have something to it too. Like meaning. It doesn’t really have to be beautiful....”

“I think I understand. Is that why you come here? To look at the dreams of others?”

“Yes,” she conceded.

“Very well. You will then have your dream fulfilled.”

“Oh, thank you....”

He abruptly cut her off. “But first you must tell me your fear.”

She gave him a nervous glance. “Um.....”

“Go ahead, lets have it.”

“Well...,” she began getting scared again. “My fear...is to be dominated.”

“How so? Sexually?”

“No...well....maybe, I don’t know. I don’t like it when people treat me like I’m nothing but a little child. I hate it when they always tell me what to do. It makes me angry and it also makes me feel really bad. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yes, that will do.”

“So, are you really going to help me with my dream?”

“Of course,” he answered, assuring smile on his face. “Just follow me.”

She glanced back at the door and hesitated. This was all getting very strange. However, something compelled her to go on. She gripped the stranger’s hand and descended into the darkness.

Chapter 2
At about five minutes after 5:00, Cheryl and her friends met at their destination. All of them had a lot to say and agreed to share their experiences over dinner. They walked over to a Hard rock Cafe, ordered some burgers and chatted away. Everyone had an interesting story to tell, except for Cheryl. She went to the art museum but found it somewhat boring.

“See, I told you,” chided Beth.

Cheryl stuck out her tongue and everyone giggled. They were all having fun.

After dinner, the group decided to go for a walk. It was getting late and their parents would be worried, so they agreed to make it a brief walk. They happened to pass by a park which was virtually deserted save for an attractive young man who was throwing footballs and running to catch them. Though he might have looked foolish to most passerby, he certainly caught the attention of the young teenage girls. They all took a seat on a park bench to watch him.

“Oh my God he’s so hot!” muttered Gabby. The rest nodded in agreement. He was tall and muscular, with a trace of a goatee and dark hair that had been bleached blond. Cheryl thought there was something familiar about his eyes.

The young man took a reprieve from throwing a football and approached the bench. Instantly, all four girls blushed in embarrassment as he knew they had been watching him.

“’Sup ladies,” he said in a casual tone. He sat down in the middle of the bench, with two girls on either side of him. Cheryl felt her thigh pressed against his and her nipples perked up in excitement.

They got into a long conversation with the young man, and were so fixated upon him that they didn’t even bother asking his name. Cheryl became so wrapped up in the conversation that she neglected the growing pressure in her bladder.

“So would y’all like to check out my club?”

“You run a club?” asked Katie in disbelief.

“Yeah. I also run it along with my brother. So are you game?”

All 4 nodded eagerly in anticipation. As Cheryl got up, she felt a sudden sharp pain to her abdomen. She knew she needed to find a bathroom pretty soon...or else.

“Um....guys,” she said hesitantly.

“What?” Beth asked her abruptly.

“Never mind,” Cheryl answered and followed the group along the way. With each step she took the tension got greater and greater. Her friends were too interested in their new acquaintance to take notice of this and didn’t ask her any questions. Finally, about 2 blocks away from their destination, she couldn’t hold it any longer and released her bladder. A hot stream of pee saturated her jeans and dripped down her leg. This her friends did take notice of and stared at her in shock.

“Cheryl!”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, starting to cry as well. “I....I couldn't help it.”

“Did you know you had to go?” asked Gabby.

“Yeah.....but...I didn't want you to leave me behind.”

Much to her chagrin, the young man started to laugh. This only made her more upset and did nothing to stop her tears.

“Hey, its aright,” he said. “It happens. Anyway, we’re like 2 blocks away. Some come on and maybe we can get you cleaned up.”

Cheryl nodded and the group continued walking. As she marched down the crowded city street in wet pants, she drew many stares from onlookers. Some made jeering comments, others just gave her a pitiful expression. It made her feel awful. She just wanted to curl up into a ball and hope it went away. Though her self esteem was reduced to naught, she safely reached her destination.

The club was a modern looking building neither of them had ever seen or heard from before. The letters ‘Inferno’ were displayed prominently on a sign, accompanied by a smaller sign that listed the price of admission and banned young children from entering unsupervised. All four girls were beaming in anticipation and were about to rush in when the young man stepped out and firmly blocked their path.

“All right,” he said. “Technically, I could get in trouble for letting you in here cuz your all pretty young. But you look like mature and responsible ladies, so you can come in as long as you don’t give me any problems and follow the rules. We cool on that?”

“Yes,” the replied in unison. He opened the door and each of them ran in, with Cheryl lagging slightly behind.

Chapter 3
Club Inferno looked at first to be a cold and empty place. As soon as the lights flooded on, the girls found themselves in heavenly ecstasy. The dance floor was more then ample. In addition, there was an open mic and a bar. Even Cheryl who was still upset over having wet her pants, beamed.

“So what kind of music you got here?” Katie asked.

“Whatever kind you want, baby.”

The girls blushed and smile simultaneously.

“Actually, my favorite is death metal. I’m into that shit. But we get plenty of people here who like rap and club music, so I’m open.”

“Umm....” Cheryl interceded nervously.

All eyes focused upon her.

“Do you have a place where I can change?” she asked quietly.

“Don’t forget you need something to change into too,” Beth added.

“No problem,” answered the club owner.

“Oh, thanks,” Cheryl said eagerly.

“Just lie down in the middle of the dance floor.”

“What?”

“Look, chica, you got two choices. Either walk around in wet pants, which is cool by me, or lie down on the dance floor.”

“What are you going to do?” Cheryl asked nervously.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt or anything,” he said assuringly.

“Just do it Cheryl,” said Gabby.

She nodded and resigned herself to having to put up with whatever he had in store. Nervously, Cheryl crept over to the center of the shiny dance floor and lowered herself down onto it.

“Stay there a sec, OK,” said the owner. In the meantime, he pulled the other 3 girls aside and whispered something to them. They nodded and giggled like they had just seen a really funny movie. Cheryl grew weary.

“I’ll be right back,” he said and disappeared behind a closed door.

In the meantime, Cheryl’s friends congregated around her.

“What was that all about?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Katie said. Then, under her breath, she whispered. “Baby.”

The young man emerged a moment later carrying something. Cheryl tried to get up to see what it was, but her friends held her down. She was beginning to get scared and voiced her objection to what was about to happen, but nobody paid her any heed.

The young man walked over to her and showed her the object in his hands. Cheryl was mortified to see that it was a diaper.

“I’m not wearing that!” she said.

“Fine,” he answered, and began undressing her. She wanted to protest, but the minute he touched her she fell docile. It didn’t occur to her that she was naked in front of a complete stranger until after it had happened. She blushed crimson and kindly asked for something to wear. He again offered her the diaper, and she again refused.

“I don’t mind you being naked,” he said. “But its against club policy. So either put this on or bounce.”

Cheryl glanced in the direction of the door. He couldn’t really send her away with no clothes, could he?

“Just put it on Cheryl,” her friends urged her.

“Well?” he asked.

“OK,” she said at last, realizing it would be better then the alternative.

He smiled maliciously and slid the diaper under her butt. Cheryl felt remarkably like a 2 year old as he taped it tightly on her. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. Nonetheless, her friends wouldn’t stop laughing and chiding her.

“Aright, enough of that shit,” said the young man. “Let’s get some music started. I want to see you girls dance.”

He put on some music and though reluctant at first, the girls started to dance. All expect Cheryl.

“What’s the matter?” asked Gabby.

“I don’t feel like dancing,” she said somberly.

“Is it because you have a diaper on?” asked Katie.

She nodded.

“Cheryl come on,” said Beth. “You wet your pants, big deal. We’re all just having fun here, so let it go already. Just because you look like a baby doesn't mean you have to act like one.”

This got her motivated ad she finally started dancing.

“Way to shake it girls,” said the young man. “Now lets make it a little more interesting.”

“OK,” they all said enthusiastically. They were very much under the thumb of their new friend.

“Let’s see how long you can go,” he said. “Last one left standing gets a prize. Anyone who stops....” He drew their attention to a giant paddle. The girls gasped.

“Chill. It ain’t as bad as it looks.”

They were skeptical.

He stuck out his hand and smacked it with the paddle. It didn’t leave as much as a mark. “Trust me, aright.”

The girls kept dancing for close to 15 minutes without showing a single sign of stopping.

“Hmm....” the young man said. “Hey, anybody thirsty?”

They all nodded, and he wheeled out a soda fountain onto the middle of the floor. Grabbing hold of the hose, he beckoned each girl to come closer to him. He sprayed soda into their mouths, gave them a pat on the but, and sent them back to dancing. As time progressed, they began to fatigue. The young man smacked Katie on the backside and she yelped. Meanwhile, as Cheryl felt herself tire, her bladder began to fill up. Why did she drink that soda? As her stamina wore down, she realized that due to the padding on her posterior, the paddle would have no effect. She sat down with a coy smile spread across her face.

“What’s this?” asked the young man, seemingly angry.

“I don’t feel like dancing anymore,”: she affirmed.

“You know what that means right?”

“Do your worst.”

“Time out everyone,” said the young man. He grabbed Cheryl and put her over his knee. She was still smiling when he took down her diaper and pelted her across her bare bottom. She let out a painful cry. “Thought I’d forget you had a diaper on, huh?” he asked, hitting her again. Her friends winced as she began to bawl.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“You should be. Why you gotta be running everyone else's fun? Hmm.....what am I gonna do with you?”

“Have her sit in time out,” said Gabby. “That's what my aunt does to my little cousin when he misbehaves.”

“Yeah, that'll work.”

He directed Cheryl over to the corner of the dance floor and ordered her to sit in silence. She did and watched with a mixture of jealousy and regret as her friends continued to have a good time. The pressure in her bladder was unbearable, but she was beyond the point of caring. What the hell, she thought, and flooded her diaper. It came out and a warm wet rush. unlike before, the diaper was able to absorb most of it.

Pretty soon, everyone tired of dancing and took a seat. Cheryl’s friends came over to her to check up on her. She was still in a bad mood and said little.

“I know what the problem is,” said Katie knowingly. “She probably needs her diaper changed.”

Cheryl stopped looking so morose and sprung up in alarm. now they were going to change her? This was too much.

“Why are you doing this?!” she asked. “Its not fair!”

“Why am I doing this?” echoed the young man. “girl, I ain’t doing nothing. You chose to follow me to the club. You chose not to stop and the bathroom and to wet your pants instead. And you chose not to leave. This here’s your fault, not mine. Now stay still so’s I can change you, baby.”

Suddenly, Cheryl got up. “Oh yeah,” she said angrily. “Well I choose to leave!”

She then bolted out the door, oblivious to the calls of her friends for her to come back.

Chapter 4
Oblivious to the pleas of her friends and the shocked expressions of onlookers, Cheryl bounded down the city blocks clad in nothing but a t-shirt and a wet diaper. The cold evening air bit into her legs, but she hadn't time to stop and warm herself. She was overcome by a mixture of grief, humiliation, and pain. It had only occurred to her in mid-flight that she had nowhere to run.

“Over here,” a voice beckoned.

Cheryl turned a corner and ran into an alley. The back door to an adjacent building was open just a crack. Without a moment’s thought, Cheryl ducked inside.

Cheryl awoke from the darkness to find herself standing face to face with the man from the museum. Dazed, she slowly rose to her feet. “Thank God,” she said in relief. “It was just a dream.”

The man gave her a quizzical look.

“Wasn’t it?”

“You may believe what you wish,” he said keenly. “But....”

“Wait a minute!” Cheryl exclaimed. “What is this? Who are you? Why are you playing games with me?”

The man snapped his fingers and instantly Cheryl’s pants fell to the floor. She stared down in horror to find that she was still wearing a diaper. She looked at the man with hatred and fear.

“You may leave once you paint me a picture,” he said calmly.

“But I don’t want to be an artist!” Cheryl whined.

“Simple child, it is you who made the decision, not I. I said I would make you a famous artist, and I shall. I never break my word. Now sit down.”

Cheryl saw a stool seemingly appear from nowhere. She crept over to it and sat. It was hard and uncomfortable. In front of her was a canvas and a paintbrush.

“Paint!” commanded the man.

Cheryl felt her eyes welling up. “Please....I don’t....I just....”

“I suppose I owe you some sort of an explanation,” he said dryly. “My name is Danzen Fier. I was formerly in the Army, but I have since resigned that post. Conflicts of interests, you know how it is. Right now I consider myself an intellectual and a leader. By trade though, I am a lawyer/businessman. I have many clients but I am chiefly employed by Stan Lucifer, better known among you mortals as the Antichrist, Satan.”

Cheryl’s eyes widened. Here in front of her stood a demon. She had made a deal with a demon! She was going to hell! Or was she already there?

“I believe you have had the pleasure of meeting my young brother Damien. He can be quite over amorous.” Cheryl thought back to the club owner. They had been in this all along. it was all a big trap for her. “Accursed youth, what do they know.”

“Danzen...Mr. Fier....what do you want from me?” she asked, summoning all her strength.

“It’s not about what I want,” he said. “Its what you want. You see, believe it or not, I am entirely for the advancement of man on this planet. I could very easily let you go and you’ll continue to live your pointless little life without ever remembering any of this. However, that would be an egregious waste of your talents, young lady, and I will not allow that to happen. You were right to want t create. You have it in you, I can tell.”

“Umm.....thanks, but....”

“Now, unfortunately for you, my services come at a price. And as I am in the employ of Hell, so shall you be until your dream, and my contract with you, fulfilled. To answer your question, I want you to paint. Paint me a picture of what hell is to you. I gave you a little taste before to serve as some inspiration.”

Suddenly, a morbid thought overtook her. How many pictures had she seen in that collection before? We’re they all painted by people like her? And what would become of her if she did paint it?

“Yes, there have been many others,” Dan said, reading her mind. “But don’t you concern yourself with them. And don’t worry yourself so much: do as you are told and your future is secure.”

Cheryl sighed and picked up the paint brush. This was hopeless. Where do I start, she thought. What if she never finished?

“I can’t work like this,” she said to herself.

“Pardon?”

“I said I can’t work like this,” she asserted.

“What seems to be the problem?”

“Well....this diaper for one.”

“Oh, that. All you need do is ask, child.”

“Can you take it off?” she asked shyly.

“Hmmm....I don’t believe I caught that.”

“I said can you please take my diaper off.”

“It looks dry to me.”

“No, it’s not,” she said, getting worked up. “Please change my diaper because I wet it like a little baby.” Cheryl stood in shock, astounded at what she said. Danzen smiled that terrible smile of his.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” he asked. “Actually, this will be the perfect opportunity to present you for some further inspiration.”

Cheryl gulped. She didn’t like the sound of that.

Danzen raised his hand and a table elevated up from the floor. It had a purple cloth draped over it and several straps hanging from the side. To Cheryl, it looked like a proper from Frankenstein.

“If you please....” he said, pointing to the table.

“I’m not getting on that!” Cheryl protested. “And I’m not doing your stupid painting....so just go ahead and kill me.”

Danzen shook his head. “Now why would I want to do that? Killing you would not be what I consider adequate customer service. But, if you are unwilling to comply, I will be more then happy to remedy that.”

Cheryl began to back away from him but found herself trapped in the corner. She tried to run to the other corner, but Danzen pounced on her and snatched her in one of his arms. She kicked and screamed as he pinned her face down onto the table and secured her. He tore off her diaper in one savage motion and Cheryl cringed.

“Hmmm.....I’ll agree with Damien on this one,” he said. “You have quite a cute butt.”

From his hand grew a long leather whip, which he cracked against the air. Cheryl again cringed.

“You mortals have it easy,” he said. “You can always pray to your so-called God. During the Great War, if a soldier was caught, there was no higher force to save them. Hmm.”

“No, please...” Cheryl began. She was abruptly cut off when the whip struck her bottom. “OWWWWW!” she cried in pain. She was whipped several more times until her bottom was red, swollen and burning and she was reduced to a pile of tears.

“I suppose that was a tad harsh,” Danzen said, reviewing his handiwork. “Allow me to make it better.”

He placed his hand on her bottom and gently caressed the reddened skin. Though she felt slightly relieved, Cheryl continued to cry and whimper.

“This won’t do,” he said, and placed a large ball style gag in her mouth. Cheryl remained entirely helpless as he inserted something, most likely a suppository up her behind. He then followed this with something else, a butt plug and Cheryl was overcome with distinct discomfort. Cheryl felt her bottom be powdered and lotioned before being covered with what felt to her like a ton of diapers. They were securely fastened into place and covered with a pair of baby pants. Eerily, Cheryl began to contemplate, it seemed like enough so that she would never need changing for the rest of her life.

Danzen inserted a nozzle into the gage and Cheryl found herself helpless downing some sweet tasting liquid. She also became very full and tired. Her eyes fluttered shut and all her strength left her as the demon picked her up off the table.

“I’ll let you rest awhile,” he said. “Then you are going to paint me a very pretty picture indeed.”

Chapter 5
Cheryl lurched forward in the crib upon hearing the demon’s call. She was in great discomfort and felt like she was going to explode. A soft moaning sound escaped through her gag.

“Ready to do some painting?” he inquired indifferently.

Se shook her head.

“What do you mean no?”

The gag magically slipped out of Cheryl’s mouth. Realizing she only had the ability to speak for a short period of time, her words poured out at great rapidity.

“Look...I promise I’ll try...I’ll do the best I can. But you have to let me out of here!” There was another sharp pang to her abdomen and she felt a great load press up against the plug in her butt. As disgusting as it would be to purge herself, anything was better then the pain. “Please take it out,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Why you little wretch,” he said quite offended. “You have done nothing so far! And already you dare ask me for a favor?” She gulped. “Well, I suppose I’ll allow it this once. But realize that you will not be changed until I see some results.” The thought made Cheryl tremble, but she nodded in agreement. Danzen Fier smiled thinly and reached his hand through the bars. He thrust it inside Cheryl’s diapers and baby pants and yanked out the butt plug. Cheryl felt a pang of relief before voiding herself humiliatingly like a baby. As a hot load poured out into her diapers, she felt the urge to cry. Instantly, the gag was snapped back into her mouth and she was led out of the cage. Dan pointed to the stool and she sat, spreading the mess across her bottom.

“Now if you please, no further interruptions and paint.”

Cheryl nodded and grasped the brush. Where would she begin? How would she begin? She was supposed to describe hell, but Hell was all around her. She was in the dark and she couldn’t describe a damn thing.

“Perhaps this will aid you,” said the demon, placing a blindfold over her eyes. How would that help, she wondered? Strangely enough, it did. With the blindfold on, she no longer strained to see through the darkness. Instead, she saw nothing at all. It was a lot like the blank canvas in front of her. She tried to imagine what she must look like: a poor, saddened little girl wearing a very full diaper and helpless to do anything about it. Before she could figure out how she was going to depict that, her hand began to move.

“Excellent,” said the demon smoothly. He placed his hand on her shoulders and began rubbing softly. His touch seemingly melted her. “You are quiote the artist.” As Cheryl painted her said self portrait, a sense of joy reached its way into her and into the painting. Sure, she was stuck in her own nightmare. But Danzen was right. She was quite the artist.

He reached his hand lower and began to rub her through her diapers. She felt her hand move faster and faster as she painted with more and more vigor. Her mind was racing to keep up with the wayward appendage, and she felt herself totally collapse into her work. Several minutes later, she let out a small cry to indicate that she was done.

“Great job,” said the demon approvingly. “Come see for yourself.”

Her blindfold was removed and she gazed into her work with pallid horror. It was her, her exactly. Even the most minute detail was captured. And all this was done with a blindfold on! It wasn’t possible. She felt her strength leave her as she slowly collapsed.

“Poor baby,” the demon muttered, his voice fleeting in her subconscious mind.

Cheryl proceeded to have two very strange dreams. In the first dream, she was older, taller, more pretty. She wore a colorful dress and her hair draped around her shoulders as she waltzed through the museum. Several onlookers glanced eagerly at a planting which as covered with a black velvet cloth. Cheryl walked up and swiftly unveiled it. There was clapping and a barrage of praise. Cheryl smiled humbly and gazed at her obedient crowd. Another masterpiece. She had made it.

As she glanced into her painting, everything went dim. The first dream passed into the second. Here she was not glamorous but rather deprived. She looked like she belonged in a Charles Dickens book. In this dream, Cheryl was her preset age, perhaps a tad older. She had on a simple gray skirt and white top. Her hair hung lifelessly down upon her tear streaked face. She was chained by one leg to a wall. In her hand was a mop. She was obviously a servant of some sort, perhaps even a slave. The gray room with its grimly floors seemed distinctly like a prison.

“Mom, that little bitch isn’t doing her job!” called the voice of an adolescent boy. Cheryl passed. What was going to happen to her?

“Oh really?” called the shrill voice of an old woman. Let me take care of it, dear.”

She suddenly realized she had been remiss in her duties and got back to work, moving the mop at great speed. It was too little to late, for the moment the decrepit old woman entered, she knocked the mop out of her hand.

“I...,” she began.

“Silence!” she said, slapping Cheryl across the face. “The only people not fit to work around here are babies, which you clearly must be.”

“I’m sorry...I.....”

“No talking! You know your punishment. Now strip.”

As Cheryl began taking her clothes off, the boy entered the room. He watched her with sinister glee as her skirt fell to the floor. Cheryl blushed red.

“All of it!” barked the old hag.

She stripped until she was naked before them. The old woman pointed to a hard wooden stool, which looked hauntingly familiar to her. She was order to lean over it and while trembling she did. Her panties were cruelly shoved in her mouth and her arms were chained to the walls. The old woman and the boy began taking turns spanking her with a wooden spoon. Cheryl screamed and cried as they laughed and hit her. When all was done, she was reduced to shameful tears.

The boy walked over to Cheryl and forced her legs apart. “Time for your diaper, baby,” he taunted. Cheryl kept on telling herself this was a dream, she would wake up., It would all end and...

She was jarred to attention by the feeling of having a hose inserted up her butt. The hose ran from the sink, where the faucet was turned ever so slightly. Cheryl could feel water dripping into her. The old woman took 3 extremely thick cloth diapers and wrapped them around Cheryl. Over these went a steel chastity belt Cheryl felt so horribly trapped.

One of Cheryl's hands were freed and a long mop was placed in it. “Continue scrubbing,” said the old woman with aristocratic arrogance. “And don't you dare stop until your done.” They both left smiling fiendishly.

Cheryl scrubbed for what seemed like hours, but the floors didn’t get much cleaner. She was in great discomfort and was about to burst into another fit of tears when she had a visitor. He was a well dressed man whose attire and manner suggested prominence. He looked oddly familiar to her.

“What’s her story?” eh asked.

“Wants to be an artist,” said the old lady with a scoff.

“Well now,” he said. “This is quite a pretty picture indeed.”

They both laughed and Cheryl waited for the darkness to come, when she would wake up out of it and it would all go back to normal. But the moment never came.

Chapter 6
Cheryl’s friends returned home from the city without her. They told Cheryl’s parents that she had run off ‘to become an artist.’ Cheryl's mom was devastated at first, but realized that her daughter was probably off doing better things and got over it. The young ladies were never questioned about it (nothing out of the ordinary had happened while in the city. none of them could recall a night club or a strange man). Life went on as it normally does, and Cheryl Harper was never heard from again.

The museum continues to receive many visitors (who says art is dead). Many of them pass in and out without ceremony, but a select few should happen to fortunate enough stumble across a strange man and his ‘private collection.’ They will be exposed to some of the finest art ever produced. The newest addition to the collection is a painting of a young girl, both happy and sad. Look closely at it and you can almost hear her screaming.

Conclusion
I hope you have enjoyed this segment. I know I have (evil laugh). Seriously though, it is pretty scary. I hope nobody took it too seriously. Stuff like this doesn’t actually happen (or does it. another evil laugh). But there is a lesson to be learned here: desire and fear are not enemies, but friends. Some would say they are like brothers, one luring a person to the other. Then again, what do they know. What I know, what you all know is this: there is much to be found in everything around us, if we are ready and willing to look. Thank you for visiting the night gallery.