Aaron rolled off the woman below him. Wiping a sweat drenched lock of hair from his eyes he sat up and reached over to his wallet on the bedside table.
"How much?" He asked disdainfully. She answered him, her breath still heavy. He pulled the bills out of his wallet and dropped them on sheets. "Now get out of my sight." He hissed.
"Hey fuck you." She spat back as she got up and pulled her miniskirt back up to her hips. Her hair was frizzy and her cheekbones stuck out from her thin yellowish skin.
"Shut up whore." Aaron said as he lit a cigarette.
"Asshole." She whispered as she closed the door behind her, her small red purse swinging at her side. Aaron chuckled to himself as he smoked. He was tired and bored. Sex held no more allure for him. It wasn't pleasure. It was a necessity and it was business.

Aaron Herald worked as a master at a New York bondage and S+M club, The Hole. He loved his work. The women who would crawl on their hands and knees to him. Begging him to please them. To whip and scorn them. Tears in their eyes and pleasure in their upturned faces. Wincing under the pain they begged for. Down on the ground. Right where they belonged. Aaron loved his work. But more than that he loved being the inflicter. The bringer of pain and pleasure. The feel of a whip as it cracked against flesh. He loved it so much and did it so often that it soon became boring to him. The same old business. It wasn't fun anymore. He felt he had to take it to a new level. It began one night after work....

He had been sitting at the bar in the nightclub. Techno music throbbed all around him. He despised it but what could he do? All around him people writhed to the music and glowed in the darkness. A young woman slid up to him at the bar.
"You're cute." She said smiling. Her eyes betrayed her. Aaron could see she was high on something. He nodded. "I think I love you." She said as she giggled. Aaron knew this was his chance. He took her hand and lead her from the place. He took her out the back exit into an alleyway. They began to embrace. His hands running up her tight thighs.
"What's your name?" He whispered.
"Terri." She replied. He kissed her, his short beard scraping against her cheeks. As she ground her hips into his, he let a hand stray into his back pocket. He pulled out the lagouille, a thin sharp knife, and flipped it open. The girl began pulling down her sparkly mini skirt. Underneath it she had a thong. Aaron wasted no time. He quickly slid the blade up the crack of her buttocks. The squeal she let loose was amazing. He spun her about and pressed her face into the bricks. In one motion he raked the blade across her throat. He could hear the blood splash against the wall and feel it running warm between his fingers. She slid down onto the pavement and gurgled. He searched in a trash can and found a filthy old blanket. He wiped his hands and the knife on it and threw it over the body. He walked calmly out of the alley to his car with a huge smile on his face.

Now, when he felt bored, he would kill. Suffering was always fresh. It never got boring. It was, he mused, because each person's suffering was different. Each reacted in their own particular way. Every scream and whimper and death rattle was individual. The look on each face as the knife found its was in was glorious and singular. He loved it more than just inflicting pain because, at some point according to the rules, he had to stop. With murder he was fully in control. He could take it all the way to the finish and taste each pleasure along the way. He could look into their eyes at the wonderful moment between death and dying. That moment as the life slithered out of them like a snake slithers out of its skin. He took another pull on his cigarette and got up. Pulling on a pair of leather pants he sauntered to the bathroom. It was ten fifteen and he had a late night personal appointment with a woman uptown. She liked it hard. Very hard. Too hard to be done down at the club. It had to be done in private. Aaron assembled his ensemble and packed his tools up. A cat-o'-nine-tails, a paddle, a ball gag, leg and hand shackles, leather bindings. But this time he added something to the case: His lagouille with the snakeskin handle. He flipped the suitcase closed, switched off the light and headed out the front door.

The woman opened the door dressed in a tight leather outfit and corset.
"Hello Master."
"Shut your mouth whore. You're lucky I'm indulging you like this. It's late and I have an early call tomorrow."
"Yes, sir." She responded. She was in her late forties with graying blonde hair and a body that had once been attractive but had borne two children. She followed him into the bedroom. Soon he had her clamped to the footboard of the expensive four poster bed on her knees, her back to him. Her exposed shoulders and back were red and bleeding from the whip. Her mouth was wrapped around the gag. He struck her without mercy and she loved every minute of it. He gave her a swift kick in the kidney with his thick boot. "Like that you filthy slut?" She whelped into the gag and nodded. He unlocked her wrist braces and took out the gag. "Want to rest a minute?" She nodded. She rose on legs that quivered like jelly and collapsed onto the bed's expensive white silk sheets. Aaron trotted into the kitchen. As he got a glass of ice water he fingered the folded knife in his front pocket. The fun was over. He finished the water and went back into the bedroom. The bored little rich bitch housewife, sado slut was panting spread eagle on the bed. It was almost too easy.

"Ready for more?" He asked. She got up on her elbows and smiled in ecstasy.
"Oh please yes." He turned her over and pressed her face into the mattress. Then he cuffed her hands behind her.
"Get ready for it, bitch."
"Oh god, oh yes." She moaned. With one motion Aaron opened the blade and stabbed her quickly, once in each kidney. She let loose a scream. "How's that, bitch?" He laughed. He stabbed her again and again as she writhed into the sheets. Pulling her head back she screamed again as he slashed her throat open. Pressing her face down into the sheets, he let her bleed. The sheets became vermilion as she emptied out. Aaron wrapped her in the sheets and quickly packed his things. He turned out the lights as he left and got into his black Jaguar. He sat there for a minute or two, reliving the experience and sighing in happiness. Then he gunned the engine and drove back home.

The next day he managed to get off work early. Even though he did love it, it was tiresome and he was exhausted from last night. He changed into his street clothes and said good-bye to his coworkers. He went out the back exit into the alley carrying his gym bag. Huddled against a dumpster he could see a vagrant sitting on the floor, dressed in rags. Aaron reached into his pocket and fished out some change. He tossed it on the floor in front of the man and started to go.
"Hey fella. I got something for ya." Aaron turned around.
"Who me? What do you want?" Aaron was six foot even and two hundred and twenty pounds of muscle without an ounce of fat. He had once been a boxer. He wasn't a man to trifle with. If the bum had a problem with him, Aaron would fix him.
"Yea. I got something you want."
"What's that?" Aaron asked.
"C'mere." The vagrant gestured. He reached a filthy hand into the pocket of his ragged coat. He pulled out a cube of black with brass etchings on it. "See this? This'll give you everything you need."
"How do you know what I need?" Aaron said.
"I know you love to give pain. You love to make people suffer."
"Simple deduction since I work in a place like this." The bum laughed showing his rotting teeth. His breath stank of liquor and smoke.
"I also know you kill people. Women exactly. For sport." Aaron's mouth hung open. He was stunned. How did this homeless man know all this about him? Had he been there in the alley the first night? Had he been watching and waiting all this time?

"How do you..?" The bum cut him off.
"I know what you want. You want something new. A new experience. That's what this is. It'll open a whole world of pleasure to you pal. Open this and you'll get pleasure beyond explanation. Beyond belief." The bum pressed the box into Aaron's hand. He looked at the man's dirty face.
"What is it?" He said standing up.
"A key. A gateway. A door. To pleasure and pain beyond human experience." Aaron turned the box over in his hands.
"How does it work?" He asked. When he looked up, the man was gone. Aaron looked up and down the alley. He was gone. Aaron was mystified. He didn't know what to think. All he had now were questions and the box. He stuck the box in his gym bag and headed down the alley to his car.

Later that night Aaron finished dinner and set the dishes in the sink. Then he sat down in his recliner and began looking over the box the bum had given him. It had odd designs and markings on all sides. As his hands explored it, slats began to move. His mind became bent on opening it. Soon he slid the last star shaped section into place. As he did so a circle in the box opened up. Suddenly the room went dark and became illuminated with a blue phosphorescence. There seemed to be a portal opening up before him. Coming in from the light he could see the outlines of three figures. One was hulking and bald with wires going from the side of its head to its shoulders and vices on its legs. The next was a thin person wearing what seemed to be a crown on its head and had knives at its waist. The third was an emaciated and hunchbacked creature with long pins coming from its back. Aaron stared in wonder as the figures came towards him from the light.

Only the word sublime could describe how Aaron felt when he saw what was coming. The huge, well muscled figure had its mouth pulled open by wires into a ghastly smile. The skin on top of its head had been peeled back in several layers as if by an expert. The nose had been cut totally away leaving a hole in between two bulging eyes. Pins had been slid into the skin of its biceps and it wore long leather gloves which came up to the elbow. A large gash had been torn in its stomach and on either side of it were hung implements. One was a small sickle. The other was a knife slightly curved at the tip and with two spikes on the opposite edge. Its chest had been skinned to where one could see the ribs just through the muscle. On either side was a chain hooked vertically into the flesh. The upper thighs had been defleshed to the bone. A brace or vice was on each of the figure's legs just below the knee and in the knee were long pins.

The other human figure had, around its head, a wooden ring through which screws that had been driven into the skull had been affixed. It created a sort of devilish halo around the creature. Its entire upper body had been skinned except for the arms. The lips of the figure had been sewn shut and its throat held open with wires that went behind the neck. It had its arms crossed over its bloody chest and Aaron could see that the forearms of the thing had been cut down to the bone. Long pins had been inserted just below its stomach and on its belt was a skinning knife like a hunter would use on deer, a kris, and a wedge shaped katar dagger. Its thighs and feet were both pierced with short needles and it wore spiked knee guards which, although Aaron couldn't see it, forced more pins beneath the skin and deep into the bone.

A third figure stooped along side the first. It had only hollow sockets in its face and its crown had been skinned off. Its lips had shrunken back to reveal long sharp teeth. The fingers had only a thin layer of skin on them and their tips were sharp. The back was curved to the extent that the creature could barely stand and walked hunched over as if it would move better on all fours. Out of the back were long pins which were inserted into the spine. The creature on the whole looked starved and emaciated and its skin was a sickly yellow. Both figures wore tight fitting leather body suits.

"We have come." The tall one said.
"Come?" Aaron responded.
"You called."
"I called you?"
"Yes. The box. It is a means to summon us."
"Who are you?" Aaron asked.
"I am Baron Vortoros." The tall one said. "My companion is known in the Labyrinth as The Mute. This creature here is my pet. We are lovers of suffering. Some call us demons. We prefer to think of ourselves as artists. Artists of flesh. Carvers of souls. We are the Cenobites." The small yellow beast, Vortoros' pet, snarled in Aaron's general direction.
"What do you want?" Vortoros snickered as much as his facial wires allowed.
"It is not what we want. On the contrary it is what you want. You want a new experience. A fresh realm of pleasure and pain. We can provide it for you. You have exhausted this world's pleasures. Now you must find a new world to....excite you as it were. We will be all the excitement you desire." The mute figure nodded slowly.

"What will you do?" Aaron asked.
"Everything. You will be subjected to every imaginable torture and plenty of unimaginable ones as well. Your soul will be torn out. Your body remade into the images that please us. You will become the living sculpture on our walls. Our toys."
"I..I don't want to be anyone's toy."
"Your choice is already made. Your destiny lies with us. Come, there is much for us to show you." Aaron's mind raced.
"No wait! Others. I can bring you others who love pain. They enjoy it. How about them?" Vortoros turned to his companion as the wires on his shoulders did not allow his head to move. The Mute shook his head and gave a long blink. Vortoros turned back to Aaron.
"I'm afraid not. Many have been fooled by clever mortals like yourself who promise everything and deliver nothing. No bargains. No games. Let's go." Chains with hooks flew from the light behind the Cenobites and burrowed into Aaron's flesh. He let loose a long scream.

"Ahh. The first scream of the condemned. It is so....sublime. Don't you agree?" Vortoros gestured toward The Mute. He smiled slightly, nodded, and bowed gently at the hips. "Oh no, I insist. I had the last three. You may have him first this time. I have others waiting." The Mute smiled and bowed again. "Your welcome." The Baron responded. Snapping his fingers his pet sprang upon Aaron and clamped his teeth into his arm. Aaron tried to fight him off but ended up impaling his hand on its back spikes. "Bring him home." The creature dragged Aaron screaming and kicking into the light. Aaron's hand fumbled with something in his pocket but dropped it before he entered the portal. The two Cenobites turned to watch him go. Once he had disappeared Vortoros began to step into the light. The Mute put out a hand to stop him and pointed at the floor. There lay Aaron's lagouille; what he had been fumbling with moments before. Vortoros bent to pick it up. "Hmmm. This I will save. Thank you Mute." Mute bowed and passed into the light. "A token." Vortoros said to himself. He retreated into the portal behind him.

When Aaron awoke he found himself hanging on the wall in dark chamber. All around him he could hear moans and the rattle of chains. Dim figures were affixed to the wall with hooks as he was. Before him stood The Mute. He smiled and took the katar from his belt. He began to punch the blade into Aaron's stomach. The figures on the walls picked up their heads at the sound of fresh screams. Seeing it was only another pitiful lost soul like themselves, they hung their heads once more; moaning for their wounds. The Mute delved into his midsection and pulled out his intestines. Cutting a section, he wrapped it around Aaron's neck and tied it tight forcing Aaron to rasp rather than scream. Then The Mute took the skinning knife and slashed sections out of Aaron's flesh. He put them into a bag on the floor. Aaron rasped until he passed out, Half from pain and half from lack of oxygen.

He had no idea how long he was asleep, how long he had been in The Mute's keeping, or exactly what tortures he had been subjected to. He only knew long periods of intense pain followed by short respites into nothingness, his dreamless sleep broken by screams. When he regained his senses again he was still in immense pain. However he was now in a different room. It looked like a devil worshiper's chamber from the movies or the home of a necromancer. Long candle holders made of bone stood all around. In the far corner of the room Aaron could make out the figure of Baron Vortoros hunched over a desk. Aaron moaned and Vortoros turned his head.
"Ahh! You're up. Good." He stood up and draped what looked like a sheet over his arm. He walked up to Aaron. "Hold this won't you?" He stuck a sewing needle into Aaron's chest and he whimpered. Vortoros held up the sheet to Aaron's eyes. He could see now that it wasn't fabric but skin of all sorts and shades sewed together meticulously like frightful patchwork. "Beautiful isn't it?" Vortoros laid it gingerly on the floor and turned about to pull up the chair to where Aaron was. "You know it is not often I bother to talk to those in my keeping. Mostly because they aren't very interesting and don't have much to say. Pleas mostly. And begging. But it gets so tiresome. There are many down here I could talk to, Cenobites that is, but we aren't what you'd call a very social group. But you are different I think. If only a tad."

"Thank you?" Aaron whimpered. The Baron ignored him. He picked up the skin. "This is my work you see. My art. I am an artist at heart. Not like others down here. They're just workers for Leviathan. Feeding him souls. But I am a true artist. When I first came here I tried to paint you know. But the only mediums I could get were blood and tears and they don't paint very well. I have a few framed works around this place and I'd show them to you but I'm not quite sure where they are at this moment. Then I began to sew. That was my true calling I found. I have all sorts of things here. Curtains, capes, gloves, boots, rugs, drapes, furniture I've upholstered. I do so love my work.

"That's not to say I don't enjoy the killing and the suffering. I do so very very much. My art helps pass the time and there is so much of it down here. The others here.." Vortoros sighed and put his disfigured chin in his hands. "They don't really appreciate me. I had a showing once of my work but almost no one came. Pinhead did though. He even took a few of my works with him. He knows what it means to be an artist. But he is more of a philosopher than I am and a harder worker. He loves his job. I love my art." Vortoros held the quilt before Aaron's eyes and pointed out a few particular sections of skin. "These panels are yours. This will be a tapestry I think. Leviathan expressed an interest in my work but told me I should focus more on my job. My purpose of being, He said. Even Pinhead told me that art is a mortal thing. But I think art transcends all. Even Hell itself. There is art here in the Labyrinth and I am its artisan.

"But that brings me to why I need you. Aside from The Mute I have no real companions down here. There is my pet but he is not very challenging on a conversational level. He was an abandoned but still wonderful creation. The Mute only understands me to a certain point. There are times when even he questions my motives. He can't totally understand. He humors me and tells me my work is wonderful and beautiful and collects my pieces to no end but I know what he really thinks. He wishes I'd learn to focus on my work more. And I shall. I just need to make one more piece and my work will be complete. One masterpiece." Aaron hung his head. Vortoros took the large knife at his belt and plunged it into Aaron's chest. He screamed. "You will look at me or I'll nail your skull to the wall and pull your eyelids open!" Aaron forced his head up and Vortoros continued. "You will be that masterpiece, Aaron. You will be the work that transcends the medium. I will craft you into a Cenobite like myself. Bit by bit sculpting every centimetre of your flesh. When Leviathan sees you he will be so pleased he will make me Hell's own personal artist. Cenobites will come from all over to see my masterwork and I will finally be appreciated. Then you will carry on like me and make art and I can finally settle down after all and focus exclusively on my job." Aaron could barely see through the pain and Vortoros' words echoed in his head. "Alas now I must give you up. I must use you to...repay a debt as it were. Don't worry. You'll be in good hands. Soon it will all be over. My word is my bond." Aaron's senses left him as Vortoros smiled hideously into his face.

Aaron next awoke on a cold stone floor. He was no longer hanging but his body ached. He struggled to his feet and looked around. The room seemed foggy and glowed with a hot red light. He saw that he was naked but his body was whole. "Hello." A sultry voice whispered from behind him. He turned around. In front of him was a female Cenobite. Her face was pulled back by wires which gave her the appearance of having one too many facelifts. Her lips were crimson and her eyes a very deep black. Her skin was taut and gray. She wore a leather halter top and a long skirt. In her gloved hands she carried a barbed whip and at her hips hung a spiked mace.

"I am Succubus." She smiled villainously. "Welcome to my parlor. Up until now you have felt only pain. I shall bring you pleasure. You'd like that wouldn't you?" She caressed his face. "Of course you would. The Baron owes me a favor and it seems like you are it mortal. Vortoros is an odd creature isn't he? Goes on and on about his art. Well, no matter. They'll be none of that here." Aaron looked at her. Her body was amazing; to die for.
"How come you don't look like the others? You're not all..."
"Mutilated?" He nodded. "Well, looks can be deceiving. Don't trust them. Don't you think it's funny?" She asked.
"What's funny?"
"That with one slip, one can be sent plummeting into all this. By making one foul judgment a soul can change its destiny. End up here in the Labyrinth. A soul to be tortured for all eternity and then, well all its usefulness is gone, all joy and pleasure to be derived from its flesh is wrung from it, it's fed to the master. Its soul torn from its moorings and cast into nothingness. Don't you think its funny? I do. And it gets me by these long lonely times with no one to...play with." A bed emerged out of the fog around them. She gestured to it. "Come." She whispered. He laid down on the bed and she sat next to him. "I know what you want. I know what all men want." She mounted him. Aaron started into her eyes. He was transfixed, hypnotized.

As he lay back hooked chains rose from the bed pinning him there. He howled. The female Cenobite laughed. As she did so rows and rows of thorns sprouted all over her body and dug into Aaron's skin.
"What?" He asked.
"What did I tell you about appearances little boy? Time to play!" She stripped off her skirt. Underneath she wore nothing but a pair of knee high boots. When Aaron looked down to where her genitals were he saw only serrated blades and pins. It looked like a gapping snapping mouth and it opened and closed. Aaron screamed. He found, in spite of it all, that he had an erection. He felt her slide onto him and his crotch was filled with the most intense pain. She pressed her body onto his, the thorns digging deeper, and whipped his legs and face. She fucked him for what seemed like an eternity. All the while she laughed and licked her lips. Meanwhile his genitals felt torn apart. He screamed and screamed as the female Cenobite rode him, her head bent back, laughing into the hot, red, mist.

Aaron saw the twisted face of Vortoros hovering above him.
"There. It's done." Next, the Mute peered in at him. He looked over and Vortoros and nodded. "Gorgeous isn't he?"
"Yes. Quite. A fitting addition. Clearly your best work." Aaron could hear the voice in his head but the Mute's lips remained sewed shut. The voice was like the wind, rising and falling.
"Get up." Vortoros said. Aaron rose off the table he was on and stood. He looked down at himself. Every visible part of his skin was twisted into tight swirls and fractals. The flesh looked melted and reshaped, hand crafted. Over several parts of him were grafts of different skins. His hands were broken and the bones inside given new joints. Aaron flexed his fingers and pain shot through them followed by a burst of pleasure from the base of his spine. Aaron smiled.
"He likes it." Vortoros said clapping his hands together. "I new you would. You and I have the same sense of style." Aaron's hands roamed up to his face. All manner of pins were woven into his skin along with small patches of metal and chainmail.

"It was quite a trick getting the metal panels in but, as you see, I managed." Aaron could feel his head cool and smooth as metal meshed with skin on the top of his skull. Several studs stuck out from the top and a web of razorwire rose upward in a cone from them. "What do you think?" Vortoros asked him. Aaron stood for a moment and replied
"I think I look...beautiful."
"I think Pinhead will like him very much. He's waiting outside. Go and fetch him." The Mute nodded and went away. When he came back he brought a Cenobite with him whose face was studded with a grin of long pins. The being glanced at Aaron up and down and smiled.
"You have outdone yourself Baron. This time you have created something of value." The being said in a voice like razors.
"Thank you, sir."
"Leviathan will be most pleased. If he can perform well that is."
"I assure you he shall. His form matches his viciousness."
"Good." The Cenobite said. "I expect great things from him." Vortoros nodded and the Cenobite left.

Now there was only Vortoros and The Mute standing before him. They both looked him over and nodded. Aaron looked to his feet and found the pet sniffing around them. He lowered a twisted claw to the beast and patted him on the head. The thing seemed to purr.
"He likes you." Vortoros said. "But there is much work to be done yet. Mute, take my pet and get the chamber ready. Let's try him out."
"Certainly." The Mute's voice whispered in Aaron's head. "I'm eager to see what he can do. Come!" The Mute pulled the beast on a chain and it followed on all fours, whimpering. Vortoros pressed something into Aaron's palm. He looked down at it. It was the lagouille with the snakeskin handle. He opened the blade.
"A memento." Vortoros said. Aaron smiled.
"Thank you." He said softly. Vortoros put an arm around him.
"Now we can go. There is much work ahead for us both. And to think, when I found you, you were nothing. Now you are a masterpiece."