July 2025 – Page 2 – The Remainderman (Frank Speech)

07-21 The Unevenest Love of All

2025-07-212025-07-18 admin

*2079 07-21 The Food Chain (Dominance Hierarchy) in Hell*

*2081 07-21 Channah’s wedding gift for her girl Chastity’s bedside*

PREVIOUSLY: Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise. After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah is angrily and rigorously testing Penny by pushing her limits—at the moment, by mentally browbeating her while physically intimidating her. NOW:

“Keep your eyes on me and your hands right where they are, but spread your legs further for me. Push your little girl parts down on the floor like I taught you,” she commanded, not tentatively—Channah was nothing if not confident—but reservedly, with some interrogatory quality, as if there were a question in her mind about something.

And when Penny complied, Channah gave a deep, satisfied sigh. “I’m so pleased you’re not just frozen in terror, but actively and consciously intimidated and afraid,” she giggled, and seeing her girl’s pain and confusion, elaborated: “You’re shivering and hyperventilating on your knees before me, honeyslut. You’re so scared of me and my big, bad, bat—aren’t you?”

“Yes, Domina,” she whimpered and nodded. “I’m very scared. You—you and your bat are big and bad, Domina. You’re so powerful and—and mean,” she burst out, afraid to say it but unwilling not to say it. “You’re so much stronger—mentally as well as physically—than me. And I’m—very sensitive.”

“Soft,” she suggested, her voice dripping with contempt.

“Yes, Domina,” and she managed to hang her head a bit without disobeying her master by lowering her eyes.

“Soft. Like pudding,” she suggested with a snicker.

“Yes, Domina. Soft like pudding.”

“Everything about you is soft like pudding, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Domina,” she whispered. “You’re so big and bad and strong, and—and mean, you’re really mean—and I’m so soft and vulnerable. It’s not fair. But—”

“But what?”

“But I love you,” she whispered. “I love you and I want you so bad.”

“Fuck,” Channah repeated herself. “That’s about the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me. Maybe one of the hottest things any mortal has ever said to me. No—definitely one of the hottest,” she revised her opinion. “Almost as hot as you admitting I’m smarter than you. You mean it, all of it, don’t you?”

“Yes of course Domina! I do, Domina,” she admitted in a small voice, betraying with every word an undertone of resentment and anger at what she was being compelled to say that she didn’t want to admit to. “I would never say that if it weren’t true.”

“How does that make you feel?” she gloated, curiously, tolerating it as her girl thought about it, because she had a genuinely puzzled expression on her face and Channah knew she was sincerely considering something she hadn’t thought about before, and probably didn’t want to think about. She mused to herself that watching someone think about things they didn’t want to, things that pained them deeply to consider, was a form of torturing in itself. Indeed, what she loved more than anything was when she could make a mortal suffer in body and soul both, at the same time. Now, that was a honeymoon-worthy goal. “Wait—you think about that. I want you to think about that long and hard and sincerely. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“While I hurt you,” she concluded, with a vicious, delighted, cruel grin on her face. “Oh fuck yes,” she chortled as her slut reacted, practically—no, literally, she decided—fighting herself to remain still before her master, when all she wanted to do was run.

“You want to run, don’t you?” she breathed, slowly bringing her feet back down to the ground, not wanting to spook the girl—not yet, at least.

She nodded, still looking and holding her Domina’s gaze obediently.

“Every instinct and sinew in your body is screaming at you to get up on your feet and run, isn’t it?”

“Yes, of course, Domina!” Penny sobbed. “Please don’t, don’t use your—I’m so scared!”

“But I’ve told you how much dread and adoration—especially together—arouse me! And even your little pea-brain is smart enough to remember that, isn’t it?”

“Yes Domina,” she whispered.

“Then why are you kneeling here like a scared bitch, practically begging me to hurt you?” she laughed.

“To please you!” she burst out, sobbing. “Because I love you! Because I want to be with you, to stay with you—and I want you to want to be with me! I’ve done something wrong and made you unhappy. I just want to make it right! I want you to love me and be happy with me!”

“Lillith and Cane, that’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is, Domina!” she cried, overcome. “Of course it is!” She wept. And she broke position to scramble forward and start laying placatory and apologetic kisses on Channah’s feet, while Channah shuddered with an outright orgasm, her body shaking with the force of a lightning bolt burning through her body and soul, matching the depth and dimensions of Penny’s mortification before her.

“Ffff—uck!” she groaned, torn and balanced between touching herself and just accepting the frustrating, satisfying sensations as they ripped through her. In the end she surrendered to her own body, trusting it and letting it take her where it wanted, without her coaxing. And that made it last. That made it a tantalizingly slow tease, feeling Penny’s head between her legs, licking her heels where they met the floor.

When it was over, she decided it had been perfect, not only because it ultimately satisfied, but because it whet her appetite for more and deeper satisfaction.

After breathing deeply, in a semi-meditative state, for several minutes, she finally came back to herself, and to the room, where Penny was still, pathetically, craning her neck, her shoulders pressed against the front of Channah’s ankles, her tongue stretching out to tickle the bottom of the back of Channah’s heel, one of the most pitifully subservient gestures she could make. Oh, yessss.

“You’re restoring my faith so far, Penny,” she admitted. “Redeeming yourself and your sisterwife. But you have to prove you mean it. Not with groveling and humiliation and darkness and dirt—which you thrive on, like some perverted species of mushroom—but with what you genuinely hate and fear above all else.”

Penny moued pitifully, physically flinching to hear what her Domina thought of her, and to be forced to ask herself if there was any truth in it. “Yes, Domina,” her voice breaking. “Please, give me a chance, and please, give Chastity another chance to prove to you—I’m sure she wants to redeem herself! Please give us both a chance. We’ll be good girls for you. We’ll be the best girls we can be, I promise! And you—” she whispered “I’m sorry, but you may need to bind me. I don’t know if I can—behave—”

“Oh ho ho…” she weighed Penny’s words, feeling slightly mollified, and even having a sliver of hope for her and Chastity. “Sugarbear, that’s the hottest idea.”

Literature Section “07-21 The Unevenest Love of All”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 21 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—1125 words—Accompanying Images: 2079-2082—Published 2025-07-21—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

07-20 The Dangers of Toadying

2025-07-202025-07-18 admin

*2075 07-20 I want to lick it so bad… but what will the Queen think?*

*2077 07-20 Um… Mistress? While I’m down here, may I lubricate the top of your boot?*

PREVIOUSLY: Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise. After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah is angrily and rigorously testing Penny by pushing her limits. Right now, she is maneuvering Penny to do something she hates, admitting Channah is smarter than her. NOW:

Penny’s disappointment at failing to please her was warming Channah’s pussy, even if the heat hadn’t reached her heart yet. “Please, please can you remind me what your question was? I hate—that doesn’t matter. What matters—I hope—is that I’m so sorry that I was so stupid. Could you please repeat your question for me?”

“Is it really so hard to be a good servant?” she asked, disappointed in herself for not sounding as sharp or mean as she’d intended to, reaching down behind her chair, for what she had concealed there, and bringing it up to rest across her shoulders.

“Oh!” And Penny didn’t even need to clarify that she meant she understood the question and knew the right answer now. Despite her slight irritation at Penny’s top-girl exultation at knowing the answers again, she couldn’t help but let it slide as she continued: “No, Domina, no it isn’t hard, or it shouldn’t be. It’s only hard for me. I’m sorry for being such an inadequate servant.”

“I should think so. What are you?”

“I’m—I’m—I’m a stupid slut,” Penny confessed, guessing the right answer, or at least, one the judges decided to accept. “I’m such a stupid slut,” Penny moaned emphatically, doubling down, managing to work her tongue deep along the floor under the arch of Channah’s sole.

“So stupid you can’t even answer an easy question?”

“Yes, Domina. Please, please don’t discard me for being stupid. Please train me to be better.”

“I can train you to be less ignorant, although with a silly cow it may not be worth the time.” Then, making her voice more patronizing, she continued: “But I’m not sure it’s actually possible to smarten you up if you were born stupid, is it, you simple little ninny?”

“No, Domina, I’m sorry I didn’t think of that—”

“Then what am I to do with you? If I can’t make you smarter, and you’re too stupid to learn from my words, what can I do with you?”

Again Penny was still a second, as she tried to figure out what to say that would please her master. “I—please, Domina, perhaps you could give me only the dumbest and meanest tasks?”

Channah nodded to herself, pressing her lips together thoughtfully. That was a fair answer, if not what she was herding her hucow towards. “Not the worst idea,” she admitted. “I definitely think a little wanna-be smarty-pants should be taken down a few pegs with the dumbest and meanest work. Perhaps supervised by someone you really despise… like Roger!” she laughed, liking the physical reaction that produced in Penny, who practically recoiled to hear it.
“Oh, no, Roger’s actually smart—” and then, inspired with insight into her creature, she whispered: “Isn’t he?”

“I—is he—” suddenly some of Penny’s tension ebbed from her shoulders and hips and she admitted the obvious truth: “Yes, Domina.”

“Yes, what?”

“Roger is smart, Domina.”

“He’s smart, and he’s a natural leader, and he has a big hard cock, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“Yes, what? Don’t make me say that again!”

“Roger is smart, Roger is a natural leader, and—and—Roger has a big hard cock, Domina.”

“And how about you?”

“I don’t, Domina.” And then, realizing what was expected of her, she burst out: “I’m a silly ninny cow, I’m a—a natural follower, and—and I have a soft… little… clitty, Domina,” she admitted, each word spoken more softly than the previous one.

“You really do, Puddin’,” she laughed. “But maybe it would be even funnier if I made you work for somebody truly stupider than you. Somebody impulsive and ignorant and weak. How would you like that, Puddin’?”

“I—I—I would do whatever you want, Domina,” she confessed miserably.

“No, I want to know. Answer my question, bitch! Who would you rather work for, someone you hate but still, as much as you hate them, you can’t help respecting? Or someone you have complete contempt for? Like Cutter!” She laughed even harder. “Or Martin,” she could barely get the name out, exaggerating the ‘ar,’ which somehow turned the name into a mockery of the boy’s intellectual capacity. And when Penny didn’t answer immediately, she snapped: “I told you I expected an answer, but I suppose—between your being stupid yourself, and how much you hate Roger—it’s actually a difficult question for you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Domina, it is!” she burst out immediately. “And I’m afraid—” she cut herself off.

Channah pounced on it like a hawk: “What are you afraid of? And don’t you dare lie to me.”

“I’m afraid whatever I answer, there will be consequences.”

“What consequences?”

“I don’t know. I—can’t imagine. You’re more creative than me.”

“Creative? Or do you really mean ‘cruel’?”

After a pause, she burst: “Both, Domina. You’re both. Especially in this area.”

“What area?”

“Boys. Men. Males. Sex. Hierarchy. Control. There’s no game-playing about that. I can’t possibly keep up with you Domina. You really are smarter than me, in every way, about that stuff.”

“Fuck,” she cursed, her pussy and her heart bursting into genuine flame, taking her feet away and putting them back up on the bed. “Look at me, bitch.”

Penny looked up, her big eyes filled with unadulterated submission and adoration, until they reached her shoulders and reacted, sharply and fast, her pupils growing huge as her body fairly stiffened and recoiled with her fight-flight-freeze instinct.

Channah knew she looked good, too, even as she looked terrifying to her little girl. Naked, voluptuous, decadent, sensuous, and rotten as the medlar fruit she had taken as her symbol, reclining on her lounge chair, her breasts large and firm enough to remain prominent even in that position, her strong, fleshy legs crossed at the ankles on the edge of the bed, her face practically alight with sadistic joy and a less-familiar, deeper excitement… and her strong, round arms draped over the opposite ends of Penance’s Bull-Daddy, the heavy, wicked, personalized bat that perhaps more than anything else than her collar and cage, celebrated and emphasized Channah’s power and control over Penance, and Penance’s subservience to Channah. Everything about the Queen’s posture was relaxed and, even more, supremely confident; the threat of the bat all she needed to make Penny want to shrivel and shrink herself to nonexistence at her Goddess’s feet. Channah enjoyed her cowering—and even more, her obedience, if it was that (rather than pure, instinctual paralysis). Frowning slightly, she decided to find out which it was.

Literature Section “07-20 The Dangers of Toadying”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 20 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—1093 words—Accompanying Images: 2075-2078—Published 2025-07-20—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

07-19 Footsucking Bimbo

2025-07-192025-07-18 admin

*2070 07-19 I could get quite used to this, thought Alice*

*2072 07-19 I’m sorry, Domina. I wished my little peepee would be proportional to the rest of my body*

PREVIOUSLY: Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise. After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah is angrily and rigorously testing Penny by pushing her limits. She has not been allowed to empty her bladder since the previous day. NOW:

“Please I don’t want to dishonor you—”

“Dishonor yourself, you mean,” With a slightly-strained giggle, Channah commented, an undertone of brittleness in her voice at odds with the forced cheerfulness: “And good morning to your tiny little friend there. I love that reaction from a bitch! And it should prevent you from messing up my bed, so you can focus on me the way you ought.”

Combined with the fact Penny was becoming fully-alert, something about the way Channah had said ‘bitch’ resonated with the other, subtle cues she had given that something was terribly off. She pushed her face gently into the bottoms of Channah’s feet and begged “Dom—Domina, please, may I approach and worship your feet?”

“Well… you hardly need to approach, do you? But yes, why don’t you do that,” she agreed, still sounding distant, pushing them against Penny’s face as she felt the girl begin servicing her heels, pressing harder than necessary to make it physically difficult for Penny to move her lips and tongue. Enjoying her girl’s efforts, Channah began moving her feet, pressing and rubbing one on her face or neck while she held the other one still for Penny’s attention. Penny’s eyes were closed again, as she concentrated on pleasing Channah, her whole world narrowing to Channah’s feet.

“May I—may I touch them with my hands, Domina?”

Channah giggled. “If you must.”

Opening her eyes, she was immediately gazing, adoringly and subserviently, on Channah, her pupils dilating pleasingly at the very sight of her magnificent nudity. “Omigod,” she whispered, before pulling herself together and proceeding with what she’d planned to ask: “I—I think I must, Domina. I—I—please, may I ask you a question Domina?” she begged, as she sucked on Channah’s big toe, and then lingeringly, each of her other toes.

“If you must,” Channah answered, less amused, the comment coming across as reserved and skeptical.

Penny redoubled her efforts, caressing Channah’s feet with her hands while continuing to suck her way along Channah’s toes, her big eyes looking beseechingly, with a pleasing subservience, and awed with an appropriate adoration, whenever they were opened, locked on Channah’s hypnotic eyes. Finally, she worked up her courage enough to ask: “Domina, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry for whatever I did, I can tell you’re upset.”

“Can you?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“Good. Just from my voice?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“Good.” And she placed the soles of her feet against her girl’s head and pressed down on it hard enough to raise her hips from her chair, watching with interest as Penny struggled to remain in place and still move her tongue and lips enough to at least signal her desire to continue worshiping Channah. “But that wasn’t a question, was it, bitch?”

“Please—please, I’m sorry, please tell me what I did wrong.”

“You’re… what? Asking me to justify my mood?”

“Goodness NO, Domina! And I’m ever so sorry for wasting your time, Domina, but whatever it was—I don’t want to do it again! Please help me be a better wife—”

“Slut,” she corrected.

“Slut! I am your slut, I am your slave, I swear it, at least—I want to be! Please help me learn so—”

“Is it really so hard to be a good servant?”

Penny kept sucking her toes, in silence except a few gurgling noises from the pressure of Channah’s weight forcing them deeper and deeper into her mouth, for several beats, before blurting: “Ah bone t’ umber and.”

Channah couldn’t help laughing, although it was a sharp, unpleasant, unforgiving sound. Relaxing back down into her chair, she eased up the pressure on Penny’s face and snapped: “Were you trying to speak to me? In English?”

“Yes, Domina. I’m sorry, Mistress. I’m afraid I—I don’t understand what you’re asking?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No, Domina,” Penny began, then—seeming to realize she had said something else wrong before Channah needed to spell it out, she continued, redoubling her efforts at groveling by working on Channah’s toes and the balls of her feet: “I’m sorry, Domina, not to me. I’m sure—I can see you think it should be—that of course, it should be–obvious I mean. But whatever it is—I’m sorry!” she suddenly whined loudly.

“Don’t you like my feet anymore?” Channah threw her off-balance with another unexpected, unobvious question.

“I adore your feet, Domina, I love them! I worship them—”

“Your little clitty doesn’t.”

“It does! It does I swear, I just—I just feel so badly that I’ve upset you. Please, Domina, please tell me what I did wrong so I can apologize for it—I do apologize for it, whatever it was—”

“Well, that’s appropriate,” she acknowledged reluctantly, marginally mollified. “No one who’s displeased me should be happy.”

“I’m not , I sw—”

“Then, if you want to please me, why aren’t you answering my question?”

Penny was silent and still a moment, her eyes darting as she tried to make sense of Channah’s question, unfortunately reminding her Domina of the way Chastity had done the same thing that morning. Penny’s eyes locked on her face as it twisted into something harder and less-forgiving. Channah saw the panic and desperation to please, rising in her little girl as she saw she was further-upsetting her Mistress instead of placating her.

“I’m sorry Domina, I’m sorry—I—I forgot the question.”

“You what?!” she barked, dropping her feet and leaning forward on her chair, happy to see the look of loss in Penny’s eyes as she followed her feet back to the floor.

“I—I—have to pee so badly I can’t think straight—”

“What is wrong with you, Penance Batonnoir?”

Penny froze, staring at her like a deer spotting a hunter, and then something, some understanding, flashed in her eyes like a beacon of hope. “I know!” she gasped. “I know! I’m stupid!” she sounded so incongruously overjoyed at the realization Channah—despite her ugly mood—genuinely laughed, throwing her head back and shaking it slowly. “I’m stupid! I’m sooo slow—please—please may I have your permission—” Penny was scrambling off the bed and dropping to her knees at Channah’s feet. “Please—please let me—” and her lips began pressing on Channah’s toes, the arches of her feet, her ankles, everywhere Penny could reach, as she continued: “I’m sorry for being so—so stupid and slow, Domina. I hate it!” And, gratifyingly, Channah could tell she meant it. “I fucking hate it!”

“Penny!” she sounded genuinely shocked.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I soo hate it! And you’re right—you’re right, it’s the last thing I want to admit. You make me feel so worthless and low—” Penny sounded appeasingly miserable.

Literature Section “07-19 Footsucking Bimbo”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 19 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—1127 words—Accompanying Images: 2070-2074—Published 2025-07-19—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

07-18 The Reluctant Penitent (abridged version)

2025-07-182025-07-18 admin

*2068 07-18 Angel in a wilderness of demons*

CAUTION: Contains themes of heavy bondage and degradation some readers may find disturbing (even the abridged version).

Explicit version containing cruelty and graphic description themes at 07-18X The Reluctant Penitent at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise. After sharing an extreme, intense, intimate scene together in the garden gazebo that made them feel closer than ever, Chastity infuriated Channah by balking at one of her requests. NOW:

“Dry off and come here!” she barked, snapping her fingers to emphasize her urgency, and collecting Chastity’s bonds from where she had dropped them. “If Penny’s been able to get away wi—if I’ve been gullible enough—it’s the spell. It has to be the damn spell.” As soon as she had Chastity in front of her, she stopped thinking aloud, spun her around, and rebound her arms behind her back. Squatting down, she reattached Chastity’s leg cuffs and used two lengths of chain in series to hobble Chastity without immobilizing her, stopping suddenly midway through standing back up to check her box, causing Chastity’s stomach to lurch again, stricken that she had lost her Domina’s trust to such an extent.

As soon as she was done, she took Chastity by the arm and began marching quicktime towards the house, half-leading and half-dragging Chastity, who whimpered and gasped desperately as she shuffled her feet as quickly as possible so as to keep up with Channah. Over and over she almost tripped over herself as she was hustled at a speed much higher than she could manage in her condition. She whimpered when she couldn’t help herself; but made every effort to remain quiet. When they finally reached the house, Channah led her back to the wedding gift boxes and turned her around with her back to the boxes.

In dead silence, she searched through the boxes to find whatever it was she was looking for, if indeed she had a specific objective. At one point, Chastity could hear her moving further into the room holding the wedding gifts, over by the cliff front where Chastity had seen a line of armoires and dressers, opening and closing drawers and doors. Finally returning and standing behind Chastity, she began by gagging her. “I hope this is uncomfortable,” she growled, an undernote of fury still in her voice despite its civilized, calm veneer. “This will be for our benefit and amusement of course—Penny’s and mine—because your senses will be magically blocked.” And when Chastity immediately started breathing faster, she added: “Don’t worry, I won’t take your sense of touch or your internal awareness. I assure you, taking away your sense of touch is the very last thing I’d do. I can promise that whatever misery you are suffering, Penny will be experiencing five or ten times as much to test that her loyalty and devotion are sincere.” Chastity made a mournful sound that was interrupted to express pain when Channah began slipping a hair shirt over her.

“As a Christian, I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that this is an authentic camel-hair hair-shirt, that we have done everything possible to match the exact kind used in Judea during Biblical times.” Chastity started grunting in surprise as the hair shirt, essentially a long, narrow blanket with a hole in the middle for the wearer’s head and neck, covered with stiff bristles that poked and scratched the wearer, slipped over her shoulders, under her bound arms, and was belted in place. “If you haven’t noticed, all of my toys are the very most-authentic. I will not tolerate lackadaisical efforts or shoddy quality from anyone!” From the second the hair-shirt was in place, Chastity felt miserable and moving made it even worse. “What could be more appropriate for your penance?

Channah walked her over toward the line of armoires next to a sturdy, heavy metal one, with heavy latches and locks on the outside and a grill to allow air to circulate through it. Chastity started shaking her head and whining as Channah opened the doors and, using one hand on Chas’s head and the other on her chest, pushed her in. The armoire was too short to stand in, and too narrow to lie down in. Seated in the armoire, Chastity started sobbing as Channah blindfolded her and swung her legs up into the confined space. “Oh, stop whimpering like a baby and be grateful you’re so petite. Imagine how uncomfortable this cabinet is for big, burly men—real men—like most of my lovers, instead of a skinny little shrimp like you! You’re lucky!”

The last thing she heard, saw, smelled or tasted before Channah added the earplugs was Channah snarling: “There! Say 1,000 Hail Lilliths and see if you can’t work out a way to screw yourself with that tiny little cock!” And she felt, rather than heard or saw, the door being slammed shut on her.

Penny was awakened—or at least, came to full awareness—lying on her side in Channah’s big, soft bed, with her head on her Domina’s big, soft pillow; a share of her Domina’s weight gently coming to rest on the side of her face, and the sweet smell of her skin filling her nostrils. As she blinked her eyes open, instinctively covering her eyes with her hand to give her eyes a chance to adjust, she realized that the Sun was up. But it wasn’t actually too bright; just a shade brighter than twilight. She also sorted out, with a surge of excitement, that her Domina must have pulled her thronelike chair up to the side of the bed and was sitting in it now, with her feet tickling Penny’s face. Her gorgeously perfect, juicy round toes, the ones it was obvious to both of them Penny had a thing for, filled Penny’s sight.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Channah said, trying to sound cheerful. Penny, who had been disconcerted wondering if it were morning or night, was grateful for the information.

“Ap!” and when Penny tried to move she pushed her feet further forward so they were resting on Penny’s face, left foot on her eyes, right foot on her nose and mouth, making it clear she wanted Penny to stay where she was.

“Mistress, mmm… yes…. I just—I just—”

“What?” she asked sharply, and Penny, knowing something was displeasing her, gushed hurriedly:

“I desperately need to—my bladder!”

She laughed, not nicely, pushing and pulling her feet over Penny’s face, sounding pleased when she felt Penny’s lips puckering to kiss her right foot. “Are you sure it’s so urgent?”

“Oh yes Mistress—I must have slept—”

“Sixteen… eighteen… maybe even twenty hours?” Penny groaned. “Domina, even if was sixteen hours—PLEASE!”

Literature Section “07-18[X] The Reluctant Penitent”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 18 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 1051 words::Explicit 1119 words—Accompanying Images: 2066-2069—Published 2025-07-18—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

07-17 Channah’s Cold Fury (abridged version)

2025-07-172025-07-11 admin

*2062 07-17 In my fantasy, this valley is PACKED with sinners*

*2064 07-17 The Fire that Burns Twice as Bright*

CAUTION: Contains themes of heavy bondage and degradation some readers may find disturbing (even the abridged version).

Explicit version containing bullying, punishment, consensualnonconsent, asstomouth, and filth themes at 07-17X Channah’s Cold Fury at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

Chastity, still upset, locked herself up in her box as fast as she could, desperate not to further upset her Domina, even as Channah continued to vent her frustration and rage at Chastity: “In Hell, as on Earth, occasionally giving you orders you find repugnant, and you then obeying them willingly, is a vital part of every relationship because it proves—to both of us, and also to everyone else, that our relationship is solid and real, and that we are clear on our respective positions. Remember what I was telling you about communication! Actions always speak louder than mere words. Always. When a subordinate executes an order they find repugnant, it proves both that that specific hierarchy, and that hierarchy itself, is sacrosanct to both the master and the slave. That’s what subordination is! Subordinating your ‘self,’ to someone else—some other ‘self’! Sometimes, to prove their loyalty and commitment, dirty humiliation slaves like Penny have to take pain, and even be stupid for me, as hard as those assignments are for them. And sometimes, for the exact same reason, dumb pain sluts like you need to eat filth.”

The moment Channah heard the distinctive click of the lock shutting on the box, she reseized Chastity’s hair, forcing her to look up again. Then she immediately slapped Chastity’s other cheek, watching her start to open her mouth to breathe without smelling, realize what that would lead to, snap her lips shut again, and struggle uselessly to work out some way to breathe fresh-smelling air. Channah even felt Chastity make ineffectual little efforts towards pulling her face out of Channah’s hands and away.

Glaring down at her, Channah raised an eyebrow and sighed impatiently. “You’re not getting away from me, you little weakling. So stop your wiggling! And in the meantime, I’m waiting: For what you and I have both just agreed you’re going to do eventually. What—are you so desperate for my attention you want another beating? Is that it? Or do you want me to hang you back up on your hook and let you think—”

Sobbing, Chastity opened her mouth, visibly struggling to make her muscles obey her decision, instead of her instincts, to perform her assigned task.

“Good job, darling,” Channah praised Chastity, her voice only slightly curt, her face almost back to normal with just a slight stiffness betraying the fact that she had not fully gotten past Chastity’s misbehavior. She did kiss the top of Chastity’s head—as close to her mouth as Channah was willing to come. “You cleaned really well. I know it was hard for you, darling; and as long as you show me you remember your station, then with the exception of periodically affirming our hierarchical relationship, I will control you and punish you with pain instead of filth.” And then her voice, in a single beat, turned harsh and resentful again: “But don’t you dare lie to me about your feelings, ever again!”

“I didn—” she began, then, catching Channah’s eyes, she stopped, as Channah made clear:

“You told me you were my girl—but you weren’t. Liar!”

Chastity nodded unhappily: “Yes, Domina. I’m so, so, so sorry, Domina. I want to do anything I can to make it up to y—” But Channah raised a hand, her expression hard enough that Chastity wasn’t going to argue with it, and she shut up.

After making sure they had all of the wedding presents, they returned to the bathing pool, where Chastity spent half of her time pouring soap in her mouth, brushing it vigorously with fingers and clean rags and anything else she could find, so hard that she gagged herself, gargling water to rinse her mouth, before beginning the cycle all over again. Channah was quiet and intense, and Chastity just did her best to stay near her yet out of her way.

When Channah was clean, the Eastern sky was just starting to brighten from complete night to twilight. Gloriously naked, she was drying herself off when she finally spoke to Chastity again. By this time, the girl was feeling lonely and anxious, more eager for opportunities to get back into her Domina’s good graces, than she was scared of setting Channah off.

“Before you resisted me, I would have said it would be hard to imagine Penny and I bonding as closely as you and I did today. I was going to ask you to stay down here while I initiated her into our private married life.” Her lips turned down, reflecting her mood and her level of concern. “Now, I’m wondering if I was as wrong about Penny as I was about you.” Chas felt as if a knife had been plunged into her gut, and her eyes burned with the urge to cry again. “Only with Penny it would be worse. You deceived me for a few minutes. Not that difficult to get past. But if Penny deceived me….” Channah gave Chastity a look that made Chastity suddenly afraid for Penny, and she felt her heart rising into her throat as she worried what danger she had put Penny in with her big mouth and her intransigence, and what exactly the danger was, so she could try to figure out a way of protecting her best friend from it. She felt sick to her stomach.

“If Penny deceived me, she’s been doing it for days.” Then her features became even harder. “Maybe even years…” she said to herself, startling Chastity. Chastity covered up her surprise as best and as fast as she could, lest she betray any reaction to Channah that might upset her or set her off. Several times, Chastity opened her mouth, trying desperately to come up with something to say that would protect Penny from whatever Channah’s mad, paranoid speech was leading her to. And every time she slammed it shut again when her mind became crowded with ideas about all the ways her planned speech could go wrong and make things even worse.

“In any event, I need to know. And if Penny is a liar…” the hard glint in Channah’s eyes was not good to see.

Literature Section “07-17[X] Channah’s Cold Fury”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 17 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 1031 words::Explicit 1169 words—Accompanying Images: 2062-2065—Published 2025-07-17—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

07-16 The Three Kinds of Slut (abridged version)

2025-07-162025-07-11 admin

*2060 07-16 What is so hard about cleaning up after yourself?!*

CAUTION: Contains themes of heavy bondage and degradation some readers may find disturbing (even the abridged version).

Explicit version containing bullying, punishment, chastity, consensualnonconsent, asstomouth, and filth themes at 07-16X The Three Kinds of Slut at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: After a week of hazing by the succubae, Chastity and Penance have finally begun their honeymoon with Channah. Channah and Chastity awoke before dawn and shared an extreme, intense scene together in the garden gazebo where Chastity proclaimed she was totally Channah’s, and would belong to her forever and always. Now Channah has asked her to clean up. NOW:

Chastity made a small face, pulling slightly away, and gestured toward the creek. “Please, let me do it properly for you, the creek water—”

Channah laughed mirthlessly, grabbing her hair tightly and forcing her to look Channah in the eyes, the same strain somehow etched into both of their faces. “There’s only one proper way, jariya, and this is it.”

“Only it will be much cleaner if we—” and she broke off, startled and stung to see Channah’s crestfallen face; and then terrified to see it twisting into rage. “Domina, It’s just—it’s just—you have to see, the best thing for you is what’s most hygienic. The problem—”

“I understand the problem very well.” Channah’s face was overcome with such a look of betrayal it pierced and horrified Chastity with both fear and guilt. “It’s ‘just’ that you think you’re too good to do what I have in mind. You’re my dumb pain slut. Penny’s my dirty humiliation slut. It’s a division of labor that works well, and lets all three of us get closer than we otherwise could have, because we each share something special and strong and even unique with each of the others.” And then, with an agonized, despising look that cut Chastity to the quick, she hurled: “But you’re obviously not my girl. Never was.”

“No, I swear I am—”

“Shut your mouth when I’m speaking to you!” Channah roared, making Chastity blanch and shrink in shock. “Obviously, you don’t belong to me now! Let alone ‘forever and always.’” She turned her head to the side and spit contemptuously at the idea, at Chastity’s mendacity, and at her own stupidity, while Chastity dropped her eyes in shame, the only movement she could make. “Only, Hell is hierarchical, and absolute. Held together by power and place, dominance and submission—not peace or love or respect!” Somehow, she managed to make all three of those latter nouns sound like insults. “Knowing what kind of slut you are, pain-pig or dirt-eater—sure, that’s important. But much more important—the single most important part of what I just said, for everyone to recognize, is that very last word I used to describe both of you.” And with a flick of her hips, she slapped the side of Chastity’s face, her eyes pitilessly blazing into Chastity’s fluttering, tearing-up eyes. “‘Slut.’ Before you’re any particular kind of slut, the fundamental fact is that you’re both my sluts, first and foremost. My slaves. My slavegirl whores. My kennel bitches. Do you know how you can tell if a bitch is one of my sluts?”

Too scared to try and bluff any kind of answer, Chastity just shook her head and wailed: “No, Dom—”

“If you do what I say, then you are mine.” She leaned closer, her face screwing up into an even more frightening visage than it had presented the moment before. And in a low, guttural voice, she demanded: “Tell me, little dunce: in your heart of hearts, do you think you have the courage to defy me? Or do you know—do you know, with certainty—that you will do anything and everything I ask, when all is said and done?”

Chastity hesitated, her eyes burning with shame and fumes, bursting back into tears again as realized she did know that answer. “I… I do know.”

“And?!”

“I—I will!” she looked up, shocked at the realization, at her certainty, her face almost pleading for Channah to contradict her.

But she did not: “Then. You’re. Mine.” A flicker of amusement crossed her face before being drowned back in the rage. “Duh. Now…” she laughed cruelly. “I know you’re ‘a little slow.’ But here’s a really simple way you can tell if you belong to me. Are you ready?” And she started nodding slowly and speaking extra-slowly, like she was trying to persuade a toddler to agree with something. “You signed an infernal indenture to me, in your own blood no less. Does that make sense to you, honeybunch? That you’re probably mine if you did that? Is it too much for you, or can you follow that cause-and-effect, muffin?” Channah growled with intolerable patronization, continuing to nod slowly.

But what could Chastity do, or say? Only nod along like a two-year old finally getting it, and agree in humiliation: “Yes, Domina.”

“But in case you’re still in doubt, here’s a third way you can be sure you’re mine: You’re my morganatic bride, sweetheart. You agreed to love, honor, obey, worship, lick my feet, and kiss my ass as one of my subordinate wives, didn’t you? Didn’t you?!”

“Yes, Domina,” she croaked through her streaming tears.

“And fourth, and finally, if you’re still not convinced: Most definitively, if you’ve ever been to the Hell of Lust, then you are mine. Because it is mine, along with everything in it! The succubae—every last one—are mine. The damned—every last one, red and white alike—are mine. The operatives who enter there are mine. The castles are mine. Even the rotting, discarded bones are mine. The very sand and sulphur? MINE!!! If you have been to the Hell of Lust, you are M-I-N-E. Do you finally get it?!”

“Yes, Domina!” Chastity bawled.

“Yet you are apparently so thick, I am still not convinced! ‘Jawari’ and ‘sister-wife’ are more-polite words for what you both are. But maybe I should stop confusing you by using them, because they don’t elevate your station in Hell, or change anything else about it. And no matter what you call them, in my experience, sometimes every slut, even those much brighter than you, my little ding-a-ling, from the most pathetic vagrant up to my own Duchesses of Hell—and you are all sluts to me—has to be reminded of her place. Reminders for her mind—and her body,” Channah pointed her chin down meaningfully, dropping Chastity’s box onto Chastity’s thighs. “Put that on, slut, while you’re soft. Now we both know we can’t rely on pain to make you soft, we must take advantage of this.” And she made her point by bobbing the thing that had already defeated her, right on the opening of Chas’s nose, then released—practically discarded—Chas’s head with a disgusted growl.

Literature Section “07-16[X] The Three Kinds of Slut”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 16 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 1047 words::Explicit 1070 words—Accompanying Images: 2056-2061—Published 2025-07-16—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

07-15 The Sex Surpassing Her Understanding (abridged version)

2025-07-152025-07-11 admin

*2052 07-15 The future swallowed by a shadow*

*2054 07-15 Drink the Kool-Aid… DRINK the Kool-Aid…*

CAUTION: Contains themes of heavy bondage and degradation some readers may find disturbing (even the abridged version).

Explicit version containing bullying, chastity, orgasm, analpenetration, analsex, CBT, consensualnonconsent, and asstomouth themes at 07-15X The Sex Surpassing Her Understanding at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: After a week of hazing by the succubae, and a looooong sleep, the first full day of Chastity’s and Penance’s honeymoon with Channah is finally beginning. Before dawn, while Penny sleeps, Channah suspends Chastity by her wrists and ankles from the roof of her gazebo deep in the garden, gags her, and tops the hell out of her. NOW:

“Fuuuuuccckkk that’s hot,” Channah blurted around their kiss as Chastity, shuddering and starting to cry. She felt Chastity jerk as her sensitive bottom felt what Channah was growing down there. With some difficulty, she forced herself to let go of her girl for a second to find something she needed, pausing when she turned back to absorb Chastity’s red face and pouring eyes and, above all, her utterly- and completely-helpless posture, feeling a flash of heat. “Ohhhhh…. Honeydoll, you are well and truly at my mercy. You’re as helpless as a newborn, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Domina!” Chas sobbed, crying a little louder and nodding her head pathetically.

Anointing herself, and Chastity, with olive oil, she carelessly tossed aside the jar. She rubbed the oil over her jariya’s bottom, practically chittering with delight as the girl danced and moaned and—

Channah froze for a second, scarcely believing her eyes, and then growled a deep-throated, forceful laugh that was different and striking enough, it caused Chastity to open her own eyes to see what was happening. She immediately followed Channah’s gaze downward to her own waist and squealed like a grammar-school student noticing a tarantula crawling up their torso.

Overcome, Channah invoked curses—this time, with her usual gusto and assertive sense of agency—enough to make devils blush. She practically pounced on Chastity, joining with her. “You’re mine now, aren’t you, little girl?”

“Yes, Domina!” Chas bawled. “I’m yours! I’m totally yours! I belong to you! Please, oh please—ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!” The expressions on this girl’s face as Channah took her, as hard as she could, understanding what she was feeling every time Channah pulled on her with her hands were an incredible—and for Channah, intoxicating—combination of pain, vulnerability, trust, and need. It was, she realized with a shuddering surprise, her head practically exploding with the epiphany, the way Penny made her feel every single time—the way Penny was built—and was precisely what made Penny the perfect demon-bait. It was what she imagined the one who had banished her experienced when humans suffered or even martyred themselves for their faith: Perfect happiness, perfect elation—no! Oh, shit! Her mind reeling, she decided it was perfect and selfless love, the love that asked for nothing in return and acted purely out of that… thing, that part of humanity their maker had shared with humans, what they called their soul.

Now Channah had to scream, burying her face in Chas’s shoulder to muffle the sound of her own banshee wail as she experienced something on a par with what she had experienced yesterday with Penny—both times in her male aspect. And she felt her cheeks redden in an unfamiliar embarrassment at how quickly she had finished. She wasn’t sure if it was the depth and breadth of the magical connections she had forged with these two girls, or the excitement of what they had helped her begin yesterday, or the sheer perversity of the fact that to be able to capitalize on all she had invested in them, she could not do with either of them what she did as naturally as breathing. She snorted into Chastity’s neck, shaking her head at the irony of it all, and decided what she was experiencing was probably a combination of all three factors working together. Perhaps in combination with other factors she wasn’t as focused on right now.

As her last tremors finally subsided, she sighed and laughed ruefully, deciding the pleasure was something for her to embrace and enjoy, rather than worry about. Returning to her lover’s mouth, the two of them shared another long, slow, sensual, completely-uneven kiss: Channah standing proud and tall, fully refreshed, master of her own fate and her own world; Chastity hanging helplessly, badly-used by her master, her muscles and skin aching, sobbing, whimpering, weak and broken. But both of them feeling united by their passion and the intense connection their intimacy had forged between them.

Finally, Channah pulled her head back and whispered: “Are you going to be my good girl if I let you down?”

“Yes, Domina,” she nodded hopefully. “Please, Domina. I will be! Forever and always!”

“Aww….” And Channah couldn’t resist kissing her, just a minute or two more. Finally, with a sigh, Channah reached up and yanked Chastity’s ankle chain from the hook, drinking up her ache as her body tried to readjust. She was hanging by her wrists, her legs too numb and rubbery to support her. “One last kiss, while we still can.”

Her girl looked up with her with wide, alarmed eyes. “While we–?” Channah kissed her quiet, then yanked her wrists off the hook and eased her down to a kneeling position at Channah’s feet.

“Before you’re too dirty,” Channah clarified brutally, shuffling to move it right into Chastity’s face. “You know what to do. You’ve seen Penny do it.”

Literature Section “07-15[X] The Sex Surpassing Her Understanding“—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 15 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 819 words::Explicit 1101 words—Accompanying Images: 2051-2055—Published 2025-07-15—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

07-14 The Agony and the Ecstasy (abridged version)

2025-07-142025-07-10 admin

CAUTION: Contains themes of heavy bondage and degradation some readers may find disturbing (even the abridged version).

Explicit version containing bullying, chastity, masturbation, CBT, and consensualnonconsent themes at 07-14X The Agony and the Ecstasy at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

“It’s confusing… even disorienting… isn’t it? Because it’s like being punished and loved at the same time. But imagine what it’s like to be me, that is, if you can get past yourself for a minute! I need to punish you but I want to love you!

I mean, think about how much work it’s going to be with you trussed up like this, hanging like a side of beef—well,” she laughed, “Let’s be honest: not really beef. I know! A side of lamb! My little lamb-chop.” And she began timing her blows to match and emphasize the words of her speech. “Do you imagine this is going to be a comfortable, lazy game for me?! I should think not! Here I’ll be standing and practically bending over backwards to angle myself and thrust in and out, probably having to squat and stand up, maybe even perch on my tippie-toes, and… what? You’ll just be hanging out here, as pretty and relaxed as you please? In my lovely garden? While I do all the work?! Ooh! It’s so unfair! It makes me so angry!” Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

“Isn’t it? Unfair?” she cooed, and when she didn’t get an answer: “That wasn’t rhetorical. I asked you: ‘ISN’T IT?!’” Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

Chastity frantically nodded and jabbered into her gag.

Snickering, Channah paused, moving around and kissing Chastity again as she pressed her soft hips forward, rubbing up against Chastity, being careful not to move her torso while they kissed because her girl was so close. Murmuring around her tongue and Chastity’s stretched lips, rubbing the paddle over Chastity’s sore, sensitized hindquarters while she stroked Chastity’s hair, she continued: “But you’re a lucky girl, aren’t you?” And when Chastity nodded, Channah cooed and laughed and rubbed noses with her a moment before getting back to the kissing, little kisses on her cheeks and eyes and down to her ears.

And then, back to the spanking: a heavy, fast rhythm in her own head with a strange, almost lyrical quality. “You can’t imagine what it’s like to be a workaholic, at a job where your mission and half the work you do are also your only hobby. For millennia! I love it to fuck! I probably, literally, exist for it to fuck! But to do it all day, almost every day—and even every night! Even while I sleep! Can you imagine—well, I guess you humans dream about what you do during the day, too, but I’m sorry, it’s just not the same! It’s how I feed my spirit, and it’s just another form of doing my damned—so to speak,” she giggled, “—job! Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang! Even I need a little variety! Some creativity! And it’s so precious to have a couple of girls who really, genuinely care for me, not the usual string of sad-sack horndogs who’d be just as happy with their own sister or grandmother or domestic animal, for that matter—anything with a hole. Half of them would marry a loaf of bread if it would cook and clean for them! Men! Oh, sending them to hell is fun, don’t get me wrong, but as a group, they’re…” she shrugged. “Total junk food. The biggest, blandest, most undifferentiated pile of oversalted chips ever served up to anyone. I need some fresh, wriggly little fish, like you and Penny, to go with my chips!”

“Yes, you’re right, of course, I do care more about her than I do you,” Channah didn’t even fully understand why she needed to say that, but she couldn’t help herself, twisting the knife at every opportunity, delighting at Chastity’s crushed whimper. Of course, she was a demon, so it was easy enough to chalk if off to her evil and sadistic nature. “But it’s not really about her—it’s complicated—but—the point is, I do love you too, little bimbo, in my own way, I really do; I even care about you! And I know you love me. So—what I’m trying to say is, I’m happy to work hard for you—not as hard as you,” she snickered, “I mean, I am the boss, and rank does have its privileges! But I’m really enjoying this… I’m really going to enjoy this, even if its ten times as much work for me as a regular mark would be.”

And suddenly, just as Chastity started grunting and twitching with greater urgency and speed, Channah stepped back, removing her right hand, regarding her prey, her expression turning cruel and mean. “But I do think you should suffer for me, bitch! Because I am a Queen of Hell, and I demand your suffering as tribute! Is that wrong, little cow? Not rhe—” but Chastity was already shaking her head, as emphatically as she could, satisfying her master.

“And besides—maybe most importantly—I like it!” she leaned closer, smelling the heady combination of fading arousal and spiking fear, and shuddering from it. “And you really, really, really want to please me, your Domina, don’t you, dear?” she pouted, nodding along casually with Chastity.

With a lingering, insolent gaze, Channah moved out of Chastity’s line of sight. “Good!” she agreed, taking a strong, balanced position and using both hands to bring the paddle up and across, almost like a golf swing, to match the angle of the blow to Chastity’s bottom.

Crack! Chastity thrashed and cried out behind her gag as Channah hissed: “Fuck yeah!” And moaned with her arousal. “That’s for finishing without permission!”

Crack! “OH! That’s good!” Channah growled. “Good girl! That’s for lying!”

Crack! “You’re dancing like a water bubble on hot iron!” She ran her hand over her girl’s bright red buttocks and moaned. “They’re already hot and red like iron in a forge, sweetie! Your buttocks are beautiful!” And, inspired, she kissed each of Chastity’s cheeks, pressing and dragging her lips hard across the ultrasensitive, infrared skin and laughing, before stepping back. “That was for your second time without authorization.”

Crack! She gasped with her arousal, then breathed heavily for a moment, before she could regain control of herself enough to gasp: “That was for being such a dumbo. And—” she added impulsively, almost tempted to give a sixth whack, “—for embarrassing me in front of my Court with your selfishness and stupidity!”

Crack! And she laughed, gasping for breath, still holding the paddle in her left hand and pressing it against Chastity’s back as a reminder of her power, straight up her spine from buttocks to shoulders, her left hand resting on the curve of her bottom, comfortably for her, very uncomfortably for her wriggling girl. She literally rubbed it in, her hand to the girl’s bottom, patting and stroking it in a way that would have been comforting if her skin hadn’t already been on fire. “There, there, and that was for your third time.” She gasped in mock-surprise, cradling Chas’s soft flesh and observing with a hoot: “It feels like a deflated little loaf of bread! There, there, my little vanilla roll.” She kissed her, hungrily, practically tearing off her gag to seal her own lips back over her girl’s mouth, shuddering as she squeezed the soft gooshy flesh down there. She was laughing and moaning at once, lost in the bliss of her girl’s helpless scramble of misery and adoration, confusing her and messing her up. Moving to face her full-on from the front, she reached around and grabbed her buttocks, struggling not to laugh as she used her own mouth to hush her.

Literature Section “07-14[X] The Agony and the Ecstasy “—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 14 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 1269 words::Explicit 1370 words—Accompanying Images: 2047-2050—Published 2025-07-14—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories Uncategorized

07-13 Hung Out to Get Wet (abridged version)

2025-07-132025-07-10 admin

*2043 07-13 Chastity posing prettily for Channah*

CAUTION: Contains themes of heavy bondage and degradation some readers may find disturbing (even the abridged version).

Explicit version containing bullying, precum, chastity, masturbation, CBT, and consensualnonconsent themes at 07-13X Hung Out to Get Wet at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: After a week of hazing by the succubae, and a looooong day and night’s sleep, the first full day of Chastity’s and Penance’s honeymoon with Channah is finally beginning. Before dawn, while Penny sleeps, Channah leads Chastity deep into the garden, chains her wrists together and hangs them from a hook, then chains her ankles together. “I—I don’t understand—” Chas whined. “I think you do, baby,” Channah grinned. “I mean, you can’t—can you?” NOW:

“I totally can, lover. Of course I can,” Channah assured her, waited a beat, and then—proved it, shouting: “Raise. Your legs!” seizing the ankle chain in her hands and pulling up hard on it, knocking Chas off her feet and then jerking up on the chain with such force she was able to lift Chas’s ankles up higher than her wrists and drop the ankle chain over the same hook holding her wrist chain.

“Oh fuck!” Chastity squeaked, kicking and flailing helplessly while Channah ran her hands all over her body.

“Oh yes!” Channah promised. “Soon enough. But be patient.” And, suddenly, sounding unconvincingly innocent, she asked: “How often did you break the rules yesterday, sweetie?’ Mm?”

Chas stopped moving and looked horrified. Channah didn’t even say anything, she just slapped her girl’s bottom, hard. “Two times, Domina!”

“Oh, dear.” She shook her head and tut-tutted. “I’d think you were a liar if I didn’t’ know already what a little dummy you are.”

Looking hurt and confused, Chas’s eyes darted from side to side, trying to figure out her mistake.

“One. Two. Three, sugar ninny. You broke the rules again with your sisterwife, even after I reminded you what a bad girl you had already been.”

And Chas was even more pierced by knowing she had been stupid in answering her Domina, than she had been thinking she had been tricked by Channah, because she had betrayed herself and her Domina. “Oh, oh I’m sorry, Domina! I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what?!” Channah demanded, slapping her hindquarters on both sides, then surprising Chastity by unlocking her chakra box and slowly pulling it off, giggling equally at her girl’s expressions of arousal and shock, and the way she came to full attention. “Silly girl,” Channah laughed, slapping her and making her yelp. “Whatcha gonna do about it?” she glanced down significantly, delighted to hear Chas’s frustrated groan. “Don’t worry, I’ll see what I can do to get rid of that for you. Sorry—for—what?!”

“I—what?”

“What exactly are you sorry for, airhead?!” Whack!

“Oh! I’m sorry—”

Whack! “For what?!”

“Oh Domina, for everything! For both—for all of it!” Whack! “OW!” she howled.

“For? what? Answer me sorry girl! And don’t wake up your sisterwife with your bawling.”

“For lying—I mean, for lying, for being stupid, for breaking the rules, for being-stupid—again…” she finished miserably.

Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!

“That’s four things!” Channah managed to sound indignant. “And you forgot to apologize for making such a loud noise!”

This time, Channah whacked her even as she apologized again. “I’m sorry I’m sorry ooh! That stings—I’m sorry!”

“Obviously not enough. Puddin’ would be soft as mush after the first whack,” she giggled. “Open wide!”

“I said wide!” And she pushed a red leather ball into Chastity’s wide-opened mouth. “This is so you don’t wake up Penny,” she cooed wickedly, using a buckling leather strap to hold the ball in place, before reaching down—still holding her girl’s gaze, seeing it turn afraid again as Channah’s predatory smile widened—and rising to reveal what had made the clattering sound before: “I brought your paddle,” she cooed, revealing the Muladhara paddle made just for her.

Chastity made a muffled mewling noise and twisted uselessly, shaking her head sharply.

“You little tease. As if that’s going to stop me, my darling dunce. You’re just trying to turn me on,” she laughed, using her right hand to pull Chastity’s head forward for another long kiss, continuing until Chastity relaxed enough again to get into it and start kissing her back, even as Channah worked the edge of the bat up between Chastity’s cheeks, rocking it back and forth, laughing because she knew exactly what she was doing to Chastity.

Breaking their kiss, she rubbed her thumb against Chastity and snorted, bringing it up to Chastity’s mouth. “That’s for later, girl. Apparently, you think this is all about you. Again!”

Chastity shook her head and tried to make negative noises, assuring her otherwise, but Channah ignored her sliding the paddle away and moving to Chastity’s left side, moving her right hand back down to play, teasing her until she started to pant.

And that was when Channah started to paddle her, one-handed, with her right hand manipulating Chastity, her body pressed up against her side, brushing her arm and knee—which were both about the same height as Chas’s head, and a bit lower than Channah’s—with soft kisses while her left hand thwacked Chastity’s bottom from an imperfect and awkward position, Chastity jumped pleasingly with every blow in response to Channah’s soft, teasing caresses and she started to make little gurgling sounds.

“Oh, dear, I’m not very good at this, am I?” Channah tittered. “Or you’re really boy-stupid. At this rate, I’m not sure how I’m ever going to get you back in your box.” She purred at the desperate sounds Chastity was making, and impulsively paused to lean around and make out with her lovergirl for a minute, before resuming. “You do look kind of dazed and muddled. I guess maybe I haven’t forgotten how to hurt and love a girl at the same time. I know that can be terribly confusing, can’t it?” Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

Literature Section “07-13[X] Hung Out to Get Wet”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 13 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 876 words::Explicit 1018 words—Accompanying Images: 2043-2046—Published 2025-07-13—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Posters-Calendars-etc.

07-04-E Allied Strategic Bombing

2025-07-132025-06-05 admin

**1697 07-04 Queen of Hell USAAF B-17: Precision-bombing over Wilhelmshaven 1943-01-27**

**1698 07-04 Queen of Hell USAAF B-29: Over Tokyo 1945-03-10 (Operating Meetinghouse)**

**1699 07-04 Blood Avenger RAF Avro Lancaster: Underlit by Hamburg firestorm, 11:59 p.m. 1943-07-27 (Operation Gamorrah)**

**1700 07-04 Blood Avenger RAF Avro Lancaster: Kill marks in searchlight over Nuremburg 1945-01-02 before flak damage**

**1701 07-04 Blood Avenger RAF Avro Lancaster: Repaired repainted departing for Dresden 1945-02-14**

I think this series are largely plausible although 1699-1701 contain darker and more deadly-serious elements than those generally present in Allied nose art, which tended to express more hopefulness and playfulness, and tended toward the secular. The series also diverges from history in that most historic nose-art photos were taken on the runway, not in the air; whereas here the ratio is flipped because of its sense of immediacy, especially with 1699. Any online search for “world war two aircraft nose art” should produce a vast universe of historical examples. Subject-matter-wise, attractive women and violence were among the most common themes in nose art. Nose art was more common on bombers than fighters, and perhaps most common on US and UK aircraft; but fighters, Axis, and USSR air forces also occasionally included it. By contrast, the use across combatant air forces and aircraft types of “kill marks” (especially by fighters), “mission marks” (bombers), and “victory marks” (a more general term), was widespread.

In Europe, American bombing units usually focused on precision bombing of targets with identifiable relevance to the war effort. In Japan they began as a propaganda effort (the Mitchell raid), then when bombing began in earnest, on precision bombing at first, which yielded disappointing results, turning to mass incendiary raids later on. Whether the difference between the carpet-firebombing in Japan and the precision bombing in Germany was a result of military requirements (postwar studies concluded firebombing in Japan was militarily effective as intended because Japanese war production was decentralized, including by workers in their own homes), US racism, or the fact they had UK counterparts in Europe, is a matter of debate.

RAF bombers were mainly active in Europe. The RAF quickly concluded precision bombing was ineffective, adopting an Air Bombing Directive on 14 February, 1942 deciding candidly “To focus attacks on the morale of the enemy civil population and in particular the industrial workers. In the case of Berlin harassing attacks to maintain fear of raids and to impose [Air Raid Precaution] measures.” Axis propaganda seems to make it clear the strategy encouraged rather than discouraged resistance, just as the German attacks during the blitz had done.

I hoped to capture in these images the darkness and evil of Channah; “Queen of Hell” seemed almost unavoidable and not far off historical examples. “Avenger of Blood” (Hebrew: גֹּאֵל הַדָּם, go’el ha-dam) appears in several Bible passages, including in Numbers, Deuteronomy, and Joshua. The Avenger of Blood, usually the closest male relative of a person who has been killed, has the duty of searching for and killing the murderer in turn, in accordance with the principle of lex talionis (the law of retribution).

Literature Section “07-04-E Allied Strategic Bombing”—Accompanying Images: 1697-1701—Published 2025-07-13—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

1697 07-04 Queen of Hell USAAF B-17: Precision-bombing over Wilhelmshaven 1943-01-27—2025-07-13. Channah; old private photo. The date referenced was the first B-17 bombing mission with American crews of the war. This image seemed too close to a B-17 to put it convincingly over Japan, but I liked the image.

1698 07-04 Queen of Hell USAAF B-29: Over Tokyo 1945-03-10 (Operating Meetinghouse)— 2025-07-13. Channah; old private photo. The date referenced was the first mass incendiary “area bombing” raid against Tokyo, and one of the deadliest. The resulting devastation and civilian loss of life have been compared to Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

1699 07-04 Blood Avenger RAF Avro Lancaster: Underlit by Hamburg firestorm, 11:59 p.m. 1943-07-27 (Operation Gamorrah)— 2025-07-13; Channah; old private photo. Choosing to name one of the most-relentless and deadly incendiary raids of the war after a Biblical holocaust, smacks of an operation more focused on bloody revenge than on military efficacy. The Old Testament nature and origin of the Blood Avenger, and its association with Judaism, seemed like a perfect complement to the British bombing strategy, especially in respect to Nazi Germany, which was neck-deep in the capital-H Holocaust by mid-1943. The picture of the evil Channah grinning down, underlit by the glowing light of mass murder, chilled me to the bone the instant it popped up on the AI.

1700 07-04 Blood Avenger RAF Avro Lancaster: Kill marks in searchlight over Nuremburg 1945-01-02 before flak damage—2025-07-13; n/a; old private photo. I initially viewed this image as a failed request for nose art, but I liked the overall composition and it occurred to me although the kill marks are less interesting visually, they have a profound psychological dimension, more so even than the nose art. I therefore decided to include it. The raid on Nuremburg was also a big one, and had the added significance of being directed against a spiritual seat of the Nazi party.

1701 07-04 Blood Avenger RAF Avro Lancaster: Repaired repainted departing for Dresden 1945-02-14—2025-07-13; Channah; old private photo. For the Blood Avenger images, I blended the typical Channah prompts with terms alluding to the Biblical lady in white and something akin to justice; and in terms evocative of the Biblical story of Lot. As mentioned, 1699 absolutely gave me chills; I liked this one a lot, too, although it raises more questions than it answers about her nature (singular or dual? Human or monster? Female or androgenous? Sane or mad?)

Month: July 2025