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1688 07-04 Look for the deadly women:  Partisans, Gonorrhea and Syphilis (ABRIDGED version)
1689 07-04 Easy to get… Degenerate sluts and their diseases
1690 07-04 Avoid Pollution–Use Protection Squad Salons (ABRIDGED version)
1691 07-04 PARTY MEMBERS BEWARE!  Loose talk to loose women can cost lives
1692 07-04 TELL THEM NOTHING!  They might be agents
1932 07-04 Join the CCF-Women with a will to Win-Apply at any Army Recruiting Center
1934 07-04 Join the CCF-Women with a will to Win-Apply at any Army Recruiting Center
1946 07-04 Here are the “Liberators”! (ABRIDGED version)

These images arose out of a desire to show adult Penny and Chas acting in roles similar to their roles as operatives of Channah in ARP, namely, spies and saboteurs.  Since I wanted them to be acting for the Western Allies, they would have to be portrayed as a risk warned against in Axis propaganda.

As the project expanded, the posters became a way to comment on the narrow roles Axis ideologies prescribed for women—and the hypocrisy shown, especially as the war wore on, in their treatment and use of women.  Even the Nazis, from the very start, when faced with defiance by some strong women, celebrated them for their achievements in areas outside the home.  Notable examples (listed not to apologize for them, but to criticize fascist ideology) include one of the most-important propagandists on behalf of the Nazi regime, Leni Riefenstahl; women who used their celebrity in nontraditional roles to support the Nazis such as Hanna Reitsch; and Yoshiko Kawashima (identified in images 1932 and 1934 by her Chinese name, Jin Bihui), a tragic figure victimized from a young age and deeply conflicted about her own sexual and ethnic identity who burned a fiercely unconventional arc through the Japanese occupation of China ending in her execution for treason. 

By the end of the war, hundreds of thousands of German women had been trained in military schools and were serving for all intents and purposes as soldiers of the regime, in dangerous battlefield jobs, most of them performing air-defense and fire-fighting missions during air raids while Allied bombs were falling all around them and Allied fighters, virtually unchallenged in the air, could focus on suppressing air defense.  Yet I found only one example of a recruitment poster showing a woman wearing a helmet, and only a couple with women in uniform, at a time when uniforms were ubiquitous in German society, worn by civil servants and military personnel alike in a fully-mobilized economy.

Their own country refused to call them soldiers, asserting that they were merely civilian “helpers,” despite the fact that by the end of the war, their formations and positions appeared on Wehrmacht organizational charts and their uniforms displayed military, or more-sinister (i.e., SS), insignia.  Which points to a complication in understanding their position in Nazi society:  After the war, German men and women alike, especially those “helping” the SS, had every incentive to, and in fact fell all over themselves to, deny women had been in the SS (which was declared a criminal organization) or the military (which was deeply implicated in crimes of the regime). 

Nonetheless, it seems clear that the Nazis were unwilling to admit they needed women’s help outside the home as well as inside it, to fight their war; or even that women were capable of doing the jobs they were actively recruited, and eventually drafted, to perform (and that they did, in fact, perform), because to do so would have meant admitting shortcomings in their own ideologies and propaganda.  There is much less information available, at least in English, or that can be found using English-language searches, about Nazi Germany than Fascist Italy, or even more, Imperial Japan.  Accessible portrayals of women in Japanese wartime propaganda were few and far between, and those I did find weren’t accompanied by text I could cut and paste into Google Translate, or retype on my keyboard.  But totalitarian regimes and newly-emergent industrial economies tend to be socially conservative, and what I was able to find suggested very conservative and limited roles were prescribed for women.

Axis ideology did not allow women to be heroic figures.  It did not even allow them to be dangerous, nefarious, or even sexualized ones.  Thus, even in propaganda reminding people not to discuss or reveal sensitive military information, which were ubiquitous across all combatants, Axis posters rarely identified nefarious or seductive women as the threat.

Posters of the Western Allies (Soviet patterns sometimes allowed or required women to be heroic but didn’t offer them much agency or sexuality) were another matter.  If anything, as suggested already in relation to Allied Recruitment posters (subsection 07-04-F), women were often portrayed as conniving, traitorous, diseased sluts constituting a threat to the war effort and to decent servicemen.  Women featured prominently as antagonists in Western Allied campaigns warning against loose talk; and almost inevitably, were the primary villains in campaigns warning against venereal disease.  These campaigns were prominent and widespread, with some reason; venereal disease had become a significant source of manpower shortages in World War One, and the US in particular from the very start went to war with a vengeance against VD.  The results, helped by medical improvements, were notable:  infections among US servicemen in World War Two were possibly as low as 3% of those a generation before when the total number of mobilized men had been lower.  But to a significant extent, the campaigns focused not on the logic and mathematics of infection, or on the diseases themselves, but on the (mainly female) agents of transmission.

For purposes of these images, I used propaganda posters produced by the Western Allies as the starting points for made-up Axis ones that the Axis powers would have been unlikely to produce.

Literature Section “07-04-G Axis Portrayals of Women”—Accompanying Images:  1688-1692, 1932, 1934, 1946A; 1688U, 1690U, 1933, 1946B&U—Published 2025-06-17 to 06-23—©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.

1688 07-04 Look for the deadly women:  Partisans, Gonorrhea and Syphilis (ABRIDGED version)—UNABRIDGED VERSION INCLUDING FASCIST IMAGERY AVAILABLE AT PATREON.COM/THEREMAINDERMAN. 2025-06-17; Penance & Chastity; propaganda poster; compare numerous examples at https://cvltnation.com/crazy-venereal-disease-posters-from-wwii/.  Translation (German to English):  Suchen Sie nach den tödlichen Frauen: Partisanen, Gonorrhoe und Syphilis  Look for the deadly women:  Partisans, Gonorrhea and Syphilis.  The linkage between “good-time girls,” “loose women,” “prostitutes,” “pick-ups,” “bags of trouble,” etc., and diseases in numerous posters was thoroughly spelled out for slower servicemembers.  The broadest categorization, and the closest to bluntly suggesting all women are whores, that I saw, which also offered some spurious pseudo-scientific statistics, was the poster cautioning “98% of procurable women have venereal disease.”  Alternatively, that could be interpreted as insulting servicemen, e.g.:  “98% of the women available to losers like you are diseased….”  An implication more narrowly targeted against women suggested “Amateurs” are just as dangerous as prostitutes.  I included partisans because actual German posters addressed them as menaces, including at least one instance where as I recall, they portrayed a female as a partisan.  I originally made the unabridged version thinking nothing of it, then realized it could create a risk of being removed and had nothing really to replace it.

1689 07-04 Easy to get… Degenerate sluts and their diseases—2025-06-18; Penance & Chastity; propaganda poster; compare https://artpictures.club/autumn-2023.html specifically, and other posters generally, at https://cvltnation.com/crazy-venereal-disease-posters-from-wwii/.  Translation (German to English):  Leicht zu bekommen:  Degenerierte Schlampen und ihre Krankheiten  Easy to get… Degenerate sluts and their diseases.  There were at least two versions of this poster during World War Two.  The comparison of prostitutes to their diseases was made visually by the original images in both versions.  I just spelled out the comparison between human beings, viruses, and bacteria more explicitly here.

1690 07-04 Avoid Pollution–Use Protection Squad Salons (ABRIDGED version)—UNABRIDGED VERSION INCLUDING FASCIST IMAGERY AVAILABLE AT PATREON.COM/THEREMAINDERMAN. 2025-06-19; Chastity & Penance; advertisement; Translation (German to English):  Vermeiden Sie Umweltverschmutzung – nutzen Sie die Schutzstaffel der Salons  Avoid Pollution–Use Protection Squad Salons.  There is no specific historical example behind this poster; the anti-VD advertising campaign was Allied, and the Allies (to my knowledge) didn’t operate any brothels like the SS, Wehrmacht, and Imperial Japanese Army (although the Japanese administration under American occupation after the war did operate official brothels for a time).  The address is the actual address of Salon Kitty, a high-end brothel that was taken over by the Sicherheitsdienst (SS Security Service) for spying on Germans and foreigners of interest (and is actually not representative of the official, overt forced-labor brothels run for German military, SS, and kapo personnel since it was a clandestine operation).  The phone number in the abridged version is that of the Reichsführer-SS’s (Himmler’s) office according to the 1941 Berlin phone book (only a limited number of entries from it were available and legible online).

1691 07-04 PARTY MEMBERS BEWARE!  Loose talk to loose women can cost lives—2025-06-20; Chastity, Penance; motivational poster; compare https://www.worthpoint.com/worthopedia/original-john-falter-wwii-poster-458626456, for the Allied anti-loose-talk poster that was the departure point design- and slogan-wise.  More broadly, see the Allied posters warning about loose women at https://cvltnation.com/crazy-venereal-disease-posters-from-wwii/ and https://www.cnn.com/2015/08/25/health/wwii-vd-posters-penis-propaganda/index.html, further discussed above.  Translation (German to English):  Parteimitglieder Aufgepasst (vorsicht)!  Party members, pay attention (beware)!; Unanständige(s) Gerede (Gespräche) mit unanständigen Frauen kann (können) Leben kosten  Indecent (loose) talk with indecent (loose) women can cost lives.  The original is targeted at sailors but because of challenges with the AI (discussed elsewhere), this one is targeted at a category of people who theoretically could be in civilian clothes since I could not generate any suitable images for this with uniformed Germans.  Google changed translations on me when I double-checked before publication from German back to English; the translations shown are based on the final re-check with variations to illustrate how words varied based on the original English and English translations of the later German.

1692 07-04 TELL THEM NOTHING!  They might be agents—2025-06-21; Chastity, Penance; motivational poster; compare https://rarehistoricalphotos.com/american-propaganda-posters-world-war-two/.  Translation (German to English):  Sag ihnen nichts!  Tell them nothing!; Sie könnten Agenten sein  They might be agents.  I counted it as a win that I was able to get the girls on their stomachs.  The AI really does not like being told how to position people, especially women.  I really like the faces and expressions here, which seem at once girlish and sinister.  Unlike 1945, which I was able to double-check with an Italian pronoun guide online, I didn’t find a way online to double-check whether the German would be different for a female vs a male or mixed “them”; any input on this point would be appreciated.

1932 & 1934 07-04 Join the CCF-Women with a will to Win-Apply at any Army Recruiting Centre—UNABRIDGED GERMAN COUNTERPART INCLUDING FASCIST IMAGERY AVAILABLE AT PATREON.COM/THEREMAINDERMAN. 2025-06-22; Fang; recruiting poster; compare: https://www.alamy.com/vintage-ww2-recruitment-poster-with-female-ats-member-in-uniform-union-jack-flag-flies-behind-women-with-a-will-to-win!-join-the-ats-apply-at-any-army-recruiting-centre-1939-1945-image342804140.html?imageid=16439DED-FF10-4602-991A-74F85C0BBF85&p=66052&pn=1&searchId=eecbd4edf63c33347e7f7b028a6f8218&searchtype=0; Translation (Mandarin to English) 有必勝意志的女性！  Women with a will to Win!; 般的  General Jin Bihui; 加入  Join the; 反叛亂騎兵部隊  counterinsurgency cavalry force; 向任何陸軍招募中心提出申請  Apply at any Army Recruiting Center.  Any feedback on the technical aspects of this poster would be much appreciated.  The poster is in Chinese but I’m not even sure, if there had been such a recruiting poster, whether the proper language would have been Chinese, Manchu, or even Japanese.  The “counterinsurgency cavalry force” is the irregular formation raised by the Qing dynasty princess who was adopted (abused) and raised in Japan and later became associated with the Manchukuo puppet regime (it is her photograph above her name, Jin Bihui, in a Manchukuo army uniform).  I am not sure if the force had an official name; or if it did, whether it was actually that, or if “counterinsurgency cavalry force” is a descriptive reference.  Being that it was a cavalry force and she was a Manchu, perhaps the most obvious pool for her to recruit from would have been Manchus.  By the time of World War II, however, I understand Manchuria had been heavily Sinicized.  Because the poster is in Chinese I used her Chinese name, Jin Bihui.  I’m pretty sure, but not entirely, that I have the correct Chinese-character transliteration of that name; but in addition to having formatting issues with it, and the lingering uncertainty, I did hope by including one bit of Latinized text with the only specific name I included in the poster (it doesn’t even use the word “Manchukuo” in the text) that people who didn’t notice this description could find relevant historical information about the poster online.  I made two versions, one for the year the puppet regime was created and the other for the year it was renamed Manchukuo and made nominally imperial, because what can I say:  I like Fang in black leather.  These posters came about because, having seen Channah in leather and thinking of poster 1933, it seemed only right that the leather-armor-clad Fang should have a poster of her own on the evil side of the fence.

1946 07-04 Here are the “Liberators”! (ABRIDGED version)—UNABRIDGED AND BONUS VERSIONS INCLUDING FASCIST IMAGERY AVAILABLE AT PATREON.COM/THEREMAINDERMAN. 2025-06-23; Miryam, Rivqah, Lancelot; propaganda poster; compare https://www.alamy.com/stock-photo-italian-world-war-ii-poster-here-are-the-liberators%60-shows-the-statue-57365951.html.  Translation (Italian to English):  Ecco I “Liberatori”!  Here are the “Liberators”!  The original poster chilled me, partly because it reminded me of the Norwegian fascist poster (widely used by the Germans) “Liberators,” and partly on its own account, and its description by one source online as an “angel of death” version of the Statue of Liberty.  As an American, it creeps me out to see American icons toppled and reversed that way, especially in this day and age; and especially when—by alluding to Allied bombing campaigns in the Italian example, and half-a-dozen ways in the “Liberators” poster, they manage to capture a kernel of truth about America’s own moral challenges.  In some ways, I imagine this to be the worst nightmare within the ideology of Axis propaganda because it depicts women from fascist countries not just as victims (as in poster 1945), but as collaborating or cooperating with the Allied conquerors, perhaps even with a bold spirit of determination to survive in difficult circumstances where the roles assigned to them by Axis ideologies are no longer enforced, and the men they were supposed to rely on for protection have been defeated in a war of their own making.  Of course, there were German and Italian prostitutes during the WW2 era; but the German and Japanese policy of forced-labor brothels very much reinforced and followed their racist ideologies by making women from occupied countries service their troops.  Racially-ambiguous Lancelot allows but does not require the viewer to add a racial dimension to the poster, although as noted with respect to 1945, doing so would be entirely consistent with Italian wartime propaganda.


1951 06-122 Lead us into temptation
1952 06-122 Deliver us unto evil
1953 06-122 Thy will be done
1954 06-122 Thy Kingdom Come
1955 06-122 On Earth as it is in Hell

Explicit version containing masturbation, orgasm, cunnilingus, and consensualnonconsent themes at 06-122[X] Arousing a Succubus at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Chastity and Penance, naked, vulnerable, and bound, completely traumatized by their recent, total sensory isolation, have been led by Channah into a place of darkness silence and sterility.  They plead with her not to leave them here while she runs a quick errand.  NOW:

She whispered, her voice cracking with emotion:  “First you want me and love me.  Then you frustrate me and try to thwart my plans… and now you show pathetic need and fear?  To me?!  The Queen of the Succubae?”  She asked incredulously, shuddering and closing her eyes, feeling their fear spike to panic.  “Ooohhh…” she hissed slowly, pressing her hands between her legs.  “You poor girls are terrified… of me, and of losing me.  All at once!  While I’m still mad at you!  Ungh!”

She opened her eyes, staring deeply into theirs.  “You girls are perfect!  Thank you, you silly cows!”  And as she felt their hopes start to rise:  “All you had to do was behave like men, just a little bit!  Show some courage!  Show some independence!  But no… you’re just teases!  I’m gonna mess you girls up so hard you’re going to learn to lose control from fear and arousal at the same time.”  Then she laughed, shaking as their hopes crashed back into confusion about what they had done, and terror of what she might do to them… outweighed only by their desperation for her to stay with them in the Honeycomb and protect them.  “You two are quite mad, to tease and enrage a succubus that way.  When are you going to learn your lessons?”  She shook her head, incredulously.  “My lessons, that you waste!”

Pulling something small from her pocket, she approached Chastity, staring down at her, ignoring their blubbering, confused, frightened questions—well, not the emotion of them, that she lapped up.  Only the content.  Then Channah stepped over the beam on the floor, to which Chastity was tied, one high-heeled boot and then the other, delicately and sluttily at once; before dropping to sit on the bar, her crotch right in Chastity’s face, locked in front of her by the ring fastened to Chas’s collar.

“Bitches!  SILENCE!” she commanded, her thunderous voice swatting theirs down to muteness as quickly and effectively as a professional boxer might put an elementary-school thumb-wrestler in his place with a knockout punch.  “You’ve only got yourselves to blame for your current predicament, after all.  Don’t come whining to me now!  I’m dying to start our honeymoon… it’s all I’m thinking of!  Can you imagine what it’s like to be a Queen, with so many responsibilities, everybody’s boss, always being expected to have all the answers and make all the right decisions, and take care of all the little weaklings around her, all the time?  ALL I’ve been fantasizing about since our wedding is our seclusion, away from the world, away from other people, away from any chance of risk or harm, where I don’t have to teach you and guide you and correct you and monitor you and discipline you, only love you and be loved!  I would have thought you’d want that too!  Instead of just…” she threw her hands up in frustration:  “Prolonging this whole affair by forcing me to interrupt my work—again!  And delay our special time of safety and love together—again!  Just so that I can punish you… that’s right, you guessed it, AGAIN!”  By now she sounded furious, almost on the verge of tears:  “You’re so selfish and thoughtless!”

And the second both girls started frantically trying to apologize and plead she raised one insistent hand, instantly cowing them back into scared silence.  “Are you girls scared of this place?”  She asked, lip rolling in an exaggerated pout.  “What’s that?” she asked their silence.  “Yes or no.  Are my widdle babies scared for mommy to leave them alone in the dark?”

“Yes, Domina!” they admitted reluctantly.  “At least,” Penny tried to explain, “I’d like to get used to it, or… have a little more time after the—you know…”  While Chas burst out: “Please stay with us!”

“Awww…. So sweet.  I can’t even stay mad at you.  I have an idea so Mommy can take care of you, while Mommy’s also doing all the work, and taking all the efforts.  As usual!  I have just the thing to protect you from your fears about this sacred place.  Mommy will make it all go away.  I brought these just in case you girls might want them.”  She placed her hands over Chastity’s ears, and with a final, contemptuous twitch of a smile, pressed the magical earplugs into her girl’s ear canals.

Chastity cried out.

It was the kind of cry actors practiced for years, hoping for their chance to use it in a reputation-making dramatic scene.  And Channah howled back like a rabid wolf, throwing her soggy dress over Chas’s head and grabbing her hair, crying and cursing and nearly barking with passion as she did.  “You’re the Jezebels!” she whimpered, then shivered as Chastity’s screams fell into wracking sobs and pleas.

Right then.  That was it.

Channah managed it again, only a little one, but the kind that’s so intense it’s nearly unbearable because you’ve already come so many times your body is raw and primed for it. 

Chastity was still sobbing when Channah finally shook her head to gather her thoughts, stood, and stepped over Chastity, and then Penny, standing over her back facing the cube and drinking in her big-word, long-winded apologies and pleas.

Her high heels brought her ankles up to a height equal with Penny’s temples, and she rose on the toes of her boots to slam her ankles into the girl to get her attention and silence her. “I want to discuss this persistent problem further tomorrow, and during the coming week.  I do want to take care of you girls, but I also have many responsibilities as the Queen and I can’t spend all of my time coddling and protecting you!  I have to take care of everybody else, too!  I was hoping you girls, with your free time and leisured aristocratic lives, could help me!  You’re my wives!  Don’t you want to be sweet to me the way I want to be to you?!”

“Yes!  I promise you we do!  We’re most sincere, our beloved Domina!  I’m sorry!”  Penny wailed ashamedly; almost histrionically.  “We didn’t mean to interrupt you, Domina.”

“Hush!  What did I just say?!” she spoke, crossly, catching Penny off guard and watching how she flinched as if she had physically hit them, looking hurt but also guilty about upsetting her.  And… she smelled it like a drug, another hit of the addictive whisper of fearlovearousal:  uncertainty, and worry, about what punishment she might inflict on them if she fancied it; but also, even stronger, about how much she wanted to please Chastity, and how miserable she felt that she was failing in that.

“Put your lips to work.  Your sisterwife has already taken care of my orchid, but you can kiss my boots, baby.”

“Thank you, Domina,” she gushed, seizing it as an opportunity to show her apology and regret again, lips and tongue slobbering on the dirty toes of Channah’s boots.

“Such a good girl when she wants to be,” Channah said significantly.

And the last thing Penny heard as the earplugs entered her ear canals, before real and pervasive darkness, the complete, oppressive silence of death, and the utter loss of even the opium smell of her Mistress and the dusty flavor of her boots, settled over her… was the sound of her own weak, scared, desperate pleas.

Literature Section “06-122[X] Arousing a Succubus”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 122 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1230 words::Explicit 1248 words—Accompanying Images:  1951-1955—Published 2025-06-21—©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.

1949 06-121 The Evil Queen Bee seducing Her retinue
1950 06-121 Let ME find the path for you, my pretties

PREVIOUSLY:  A traumatized Chastity and Penance, naked and vulnerable, are led by Channah into the honeycomb, a mysterious structure used by the demons for travel, finding it dark and silent and sterile enough to make them feel like they are being cut off from the world all over again.  NOW:

With her sixth step, the silent darkness ruptured, practically exploding into light.  Despite Channah’s warning, of course, they were startled and surprised.  Of course, they jumped involuntarily, causing her to chortle merrily, as images swam into focus around them—organic shapes of flora and fauna, geometric ones of geography and buildings, on each of the six walls of the room, with a seventh billowing from smoke into clarity above them, and even a flickering below them like the floor itself might start to resolve into something—

“No!” Channah gasped as if scandalized, covering their eyes with her hands.  “I saw you looking down, Penance Batonnoir!  You saw the floor spark, didn’t you?  Clever girl—too clever by half for your own good, isn’t that right, Chas?”

“Very much so, Domina,” Chas had to agree, sounding amused and bemused at the same time. 

“Don’t you dare look down, Penance girl.  Just one stray moment of curiosity—and I know you, you’re curious about everything—and gravity might drag the three of us straight down before I could even teach you about the sheets of the Honeycomb!”  She giggled.  “And since you have no business leaving my sheet, so to speak, that’s a skill you’ll never need anyway.  So… let’s spend this week exploring my sheets only, shall we?  In your own sheet, it’s simple:  Back and to the left is always home.  Always.  Back and to the right is where you just came from, unless that happens to be your home, in which case it’s determined like the other four faces,” she kind-of explained, turning them 150 degrees counterclockwise and guiding them—with her hands still over their eyes and counting:  “One.  It’s already gone.”  But she kept her hands on their eyes until she announced:  “Two.”  Then she brought her hands back down around their necks.  “Three.  Four.  Five.  Watch your pretty toes!”  And then she finished authoritatively, “Six!” drowning out the girls’ tentative “Seven and a half” (precise Penny) and “eight” (casual Chas). As well-matched as they were physically, there was little chance there was any actual difference to speak of between their respective strides.

“Now.  I need you to move just over here…” she guided them to the right, and then forward, maneuvering them around the outside of the glass cube.  They immediately noticed there were chains hanging from the upper rail and rings embedded into the lower rail, on this side.  “Now kneel down, and stay over here on the side, out of the main path.  You don’t want to get in the way of any important people.  And since everyone who uses the honeycomb is a succubus or accompanying a succubus, you can presume there will always be at least one person much more important than you, in here.  Got it?”

“Yes, Domina,” they chorused unconvincingly, getting what she was saying, but not why she was saying it.

“For the same reason, to make sure you’re in a respectful position if any of your betters come across you, I want you down on your knees.”  She was unfastening Chastity from the leash she shared with Penny as she spoke.  “Go on, kneel, I know the floor hurts a little but we have a strict rule, animals left in the honeycomb are always hitched.”

“‘Left?!’”  Penny asked, scared.  “‘Hitched?!’” Chas protested.

“Ohh… come on, Chastity!” she teased her, thereby easily ignoring Penny’s question.  “Who’s your cowgirl?”

“You are, Domina,” Chastity answered, embarrassed but also a little excited.  “See?” she kissed the back of her head as she pushed the girl down to the floor.  “What good little hucattle you two are.”  And with that, she locked each girl’s collar to one of the rings in the floor, Penny’s to the ring nearest the iron door, and Chas’s to the ring nearest the honeycomb, spacing them about six feet apart.

“Mistress?”  Penny squeaked.  “Domina?  Please, you aren’t going to leave us, are you?”

“Aww… my little poodle.  You’re a grown-up!  Don’t tell me you’re still afraid of the dark, darling?” she asked, managing to sound both sympathetic and irritated at once, as she pulled up on Penny’s bound wrists, hard, causing the girl to whine and shuffle her knees forward to ease the pressure on her shoulders, before using one of the chains hanging from the top bar to hold her wrists up and behind her in the strappado position. 

“Not the dark per se, Domina,” Penny squeaked, sounding a little whiny and pathetic, even to herself.  “But, it’s just—this—today—after the trigger—the honeycomb, Mistress!”

“Aww… does the honeycomb bother you?”  she pouted distractedly.

“It’s just… kind of upsetting, Domina…”  Chastity chimed in, her voice a little uneven, sounding even to herself like she had doubts about what she was saying.

“Oh, you poor little dears,” she said regretfully, locking Chastity’s arms into the strappado position.  “Unfortunately, I have to make an appearance here at Sademtsaowah.  Half an hour is  about the minimum I need to linger here to be confident I’ve given all—well, almost all—of the damned enough time to wrap their empty skulls around the fact they need to attend to me here.  Most of them react faster than that most of the time, but taken as a herd…” she shrugged.  “It takes time to keep the number of stragglers down.  Now,” she began, stepping over the bar into the cube, heading toward the iron door.  “You g—”

“Can’t we please come with you, Domina?”  Chastity pleaded frantically.

“Please, Domina, I promise we’ll be good girls!”  Penance added.

Sounding firmer, she emphasized:  “I have a great deal to do here and want to get as much of it done as possible, in those thirty minutes so I can give you sweet little love muffins mommy’s full attention on our honeymoon!”  They heard her turning and stepping toward the door.

“Please can you leave us with the guards Domina, please?!”  Chastity pleaded.  “We’ll be ever so well-behaved!”

“We—we’ll be a credit to you, Domina!”  Penny assured her.

She hesitated, and then turned back towards them, slowly, seeing the hunger in their eyes, not just for her, but for the light she was radiating.  A thoughtful, calculating look crept into her eyes, and just the hint of a smirk lifted the corner of her lips.  When she saw that both of her girls had caught the look on her face, and that it made them both quail like red-headed stepchildren, she bit her lip and pressed her knees together, sniffing deliberately and sighing with pleasure at their sudden burst of lambchop panic….

Literature Section “06-121 Led Astray”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 121 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1101 words—Accompanying Images:  1949-1950—Published 2025-05-20—©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.


1931 06-120 Faerie Light of the Honeycomb
1947 06-120 Blacklight in the Wilderness
1948 06-120 Begging her to show them the way

PREVIOUSLY:  Chastity and Penance, under Channah’s literal and metaphorical spells, have been ritually debased, used badly, ridden hard, and victim-shamed.  Channah, in high spirits from a gathering more successful than any of the succubae can remember, leads the exhausted and traumatized futa naked, through the halls of Castle Chang’an with their hands bound, by a single leash attached to both of their collars.  They have just reached the Honeycomb.  NOW:

A perfect, sterile, silent blackness consumed the entire world behind the heavy iron door, swallowing all light, sound, and smell alike.  The moment they passed into it, the girls knew, to a moral certainty, that they were in a special place.  A sacred place, with the air of the forbidden, set aside from the humdrum world all around it.  But since they knew they were in hell, neither girl believed this place was actually sacred.  Indeed, reason suggested, if anything… the opposite.

The walls here were a deeper, more-perfect, glassy opaque black, carved with amazing precision into perfect rectangular prisms, matched so precisely no mortar could be discerned between them.  Only the faintest rectangular lines, visible as an interruption in the reflective surface, marked the end of one brick and the start of the next, betraying the fact that the walls were constructed of separate bricks rather than immense, continuous slabs. The air was cooler, dryer, and odorless here, with an underlying silence that made the girls aware how much noise they accepted every day as a normal part of everyday life. 

Just inside the doorway, within the larger chamber, was a cube—or, rather, the outline of one, 12 equal-length square columns eight inches across, arranged as two squares with four connecting beams joining their corners.  To enter, they stepped over one bar and “through” one side of the cube.  As they stepped into the cube, their skin began to tingle, as if their entire bodies were waking up after having been asleep.

“What’s happening?!” Penance asked.  “My body!” Chastity echoed her.

Channah laughed softly.  “Not to worry.  It’s a shield.”

“For what?”

“For the honeycomb.”

“Against what?!”

“Against you, you silly girls,” Channah chuckled.  “Your filth.  Have you taken a look at one another?”  She snorted.  “Think of it like magical hosiery or clogs.  It’s doing it to me, too, to prevent my dress and boots from dripping oil and water everywhere.  It’s quite pleasant, actually.”

“And dark…” Penny whispered, sounding haunted, as the door slammed closed behind them.  “and silent… and odorless.” 

“Aww… pooor sweetie,” Channah sympathized, sounding delighted, swooping the two girls into her arms for a tight hug.  “Ooh… darlings, you’re shivering!  Is this… reminding you of anything?”

“Yes, Domina,” they whined together, hugging her back fiercely, shivering not with their paresthesia but with the dread of memory of the senseless comatic holes they had been triggered into before exclaiming in reaction to another surprise, and again in unison:  “Domina!”

“What is it?” she feigned surprise, knowing they were staring at her, and knowing exactly why.

“You—you’re glowing!”

She snickered, fully aware what she looked like in here, and tickled that they sounded amazed rather than horrified.  Dropping her hands down to between their legs, she tested them and laughed even harder.  “Oh, girls… we are definitely going to have to explore this together!”

She appeared in the honeycomb in her demonic form, a wild, fey, fiercer-than-average version of her spicy red demon self.  All succubae did, in here.  There was something so primal about this space, this force, that it brought out the beast in demons, ancient and fierce.  Raising her hands to encompass the space all around them, she explained:  “The honeycomb absorbs or filters all light, all sound, all energy, all contamination of any kind, respecting only the stuff and energy of life itself.  This cube is a spell that protects the honeycomb from all the filth—well, what the honeycomb considers contaminants—accompanying… travelers through it.  Otherwise, the honeycomb would bar or absorb everything:  dresses, boots, jewelry, underwear… even the oil and dirt on your bodies.”

Something about the way she had said ‘travelers’ troubled Penny, who asked:  “And are we—Chas and I—travelers, Domina?”

Channah turned and looked at her slowly, her lips parting in genuine surprise, almost looking… embarrassed?  As if Penny had been peeping on her in her dressing chamber.  “What?  Whatever do you mean?”

Penny frowned, now certain of it and reading in her eyes that she knew it.  Suddenly gasping in fear that she was crossing a new line with Channah, but unable to bring herself not to ask:  “Are we… travelers, Domina?  Or filth?”

Her mouth formed a small ‘O’ even as something between scandal and titillation flashed in her eyes.  Of course, it was impossible to tell with her glowing a ruddy hue, but the expression on her face was one that suggested blushing.  “Oh Penny…” she whispered.  “My beautiful filth.”  And she leaned forward, kissing Penny softly on her lips.  Pulling both girls’ ears close to her mouth, close enough they shivered with the feel of her warm breath, she whispered even more softly:  “The honeycomb is natural—or supernatural, or unnatural, but certainly, not of our fashioning, and infinite.  The spell is ours, and every cube and…” she giggled, rubbing her hips against them suggestively “bit of filth we protect takes effort and attention.  Besides,” she hissed, her soft voice making them feel like they were part of a conspiracy, and shrugged:  “Why would we want to open the honeycomb to…” she laughed throatily.  “Any bit of filth that might be capable of finding the honeycomb and wandering into it?  It’s why I had to bring you here the long way around, through the Satanikoklus.  So I could… welcome you inside us.”

She giggled, releasing them, and twirling prettily:  “Ours is the only light not extinguished in the honeycomb.  And now you know:  you’ll want to stay close to me in the honeycomb, won’t you?  I’ll light the way for you, and protect you from the big, scary dark.”  A smile played around her lips.  “Filth.”

Then she took the girls under her arms, pulling their heads in tight to her own, and kissed each in turn on their ears, whispering “Princess” to Penance and “Fuckpuppet” to Chastity, making both of them blush, before leading them forward into the dark.

She was, indeed, the sole source of light in the honeycomb, a pale, faint, and eerie reddish glow coming off her and making her look ethereal or even spectral.  But there was nothing dead or even undead about her; she remained all Channah, all predator, all vibrant and exciting and completely alive—seemingly more alive than anything or anyone around her.  She remained the girls’ guidelight and beacon.  Always.

She murmured to them, making sure they remembered the next bar, the one forming the bottom of the cube away from the door so they wouldn’t stub their bare toes on the clear glass in the dark; and then she whispered to them “Put your heels back against the bar, girls.  That’s it, so you’re standing at the very edge of the cube behind you.  Now, the distance will always be the same.  So when we start forward, try to take steps that are the normal size for you, whatever that is, and count them off.  I’ll do the same, but for my pace.  Ready, let’s go.”  And she counted her own steps forward, setting the example:  “One.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Five—” she hesitated, stopping them both for a moment.  “It’s about to appear around us… don’t be surprised…  Six!”

Literature Section “06-120 The Queen in the Hive”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 120 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1200 words—Accompanying Images:  1931, 1947-1948—Published 2025-06-19—©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.


1923 06-119 FINALLY, I’ve found London’s vilest asshole!
1924 06-119 I mean to ride and whip you harder than any horse.  Who’s still interested?
1930 06-119 Final warning—I’ll make even the MOST desperate and depraved of ye’ll rue meeting me

06-119 The Long March of Shame (abridged version)

Explicit version containing graphic descriptive themes at 06-119X The Long March of Shame at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Chastity and Penance have been ridden hard.  Exhausted, even shell-shocked, they are being led away like dogs on a leash by Channah from the venereal rites in which they were made to take part.  Penny’s plea to be allowed to wear clothing is being rejected by Channah in the harshest-possible terms.  NOW:

Channah threw her head back and laughed out loud, as Penny wilted.

“Darling, you’re covered with dirt and oil and—oh, yes, your own water, and that of not one, but two different succubae.  Your dress was practically ripped off your body and is filthy and torn.  NO. ONE. Is going to see you and think anything other than the truth, girl:  You are a fallen woman, now, fallen almost as far as I have.”  She sniggered, approaching Penny and kissing her, softly, on her quivering lips, playing with her, before whispering:  “My fallen angels.  I hope you NEVER manage to accept that.  It is so. Hot,” she bit Penny’s lip, enjoying the girl’s involuntary shudder.  “That my little medlar still feels like a cherry.  Never fucking lose that…” and she laughed.  “Princess!  Pleaser, Puddin’, Princess!  You’re the clothes-horse of nicknames.  I adore you!”  Then she stepped past Penny, leaving her with the beginnings of a renewed excitement the girl was still unable to wrap her reason around.  As Channah snaked her arm around Chastity’s neck, the motion and the shortness of the chain she had on her girls forced Penny to press her naked flesh up tightly against the back of Channah’s sodden, disreputable, but fully-intact dress, even as she pulled Chastity in tightly for a kiss.  Channah murmured back to Penny:  “Kiss the back of my neck softly, bitch, and say ‘thank you for turning me out.’” 

Then she kissed Chastity, a long, slow, intimate kiss, pretending to ignore Penny but unable to prevent herself shuddering from the soft feeling of Penny’s lips whining and whispering her pitiful, obedient gratitude into the back of her Queen’s neck. 

“Are you ready for me to show you what your new body can do, Chas honey?” she murmured, her lips continuing to move over Chastity’s

“Oh, g—yes, Domina!”

She laughed throatily, murmuring around their kiss:  “Try ‘Lillith and Cain’.  Go on!”

“Lillith and Cain, yes, Domina!” Chastity moaned softly.

“Mm!  Enough for now!” she pronounced bitchily, swatting Chastity’s bottom, well aware that she had both of her girls’ full attention, licking her lips and leading them on a march towards the stairs.  “I want you girls all—to—myself.  Finally!”

“But don’t we need to pack—bring things for the week—” Penny made a desperate last plea, as she stumbled after Channah.

“Silence!  Or I’ll gag you hard, muffin.  More Pleaser, less Princess.  I have the only baggage you’re going to need all week,” she laughed, extending her hand, with their chastity cages dangling from her fingers, above her head, drawing laughter from those closest to the procession.

And with that, the girls were led—collared, cuffed, leashed, filthy, oily, barefoot, and nude, unable to cover themselves with their hands bound behind their backs—down the stairs, back into Castle Chang’an.  They managed to retrace their steps down under the killing ground, back into the castle proper, and then back up to its ground floor, without seeing anyone.

But as soon as they were back in the main halls of the castle, their isolation came to an end.  The halls seemed positively crowded compared to when they had arrived, and the passersby seemed supercharged with an air of urgency and anxiety they had definitely not had before.  The nervous energy all around them was practically infectious, despite the girls’ already-heightened emotional state, and they glanced at one another nervously, perhaps worrying in the backs of their minds that the events they had witnessed—that they had participated in—might have been related to a larger disturbance in hell itself. 

Everyone they passed was moving rapidly and purposefully, in marked contrast to the fatalistic air that had seemed to be the normal atmosphere of the castle.  And the passersby reacted with interest, even double-takes to the sight of them.  It was not the complete shock or outrage one would have expected almost anywhere on Earth, but it was enough of a reaction to indicate it was at least uncommon, even here in hell, to see beautiful, bedraggled nude futa being led by their leash at the hands of the dirty Queen of Hell.

Channah, herself reacting to the sense of tension with heightened nerves at first, spoke with several passersby in the local language of Chinese, taking the louder- and faster-than-average reports in such stride that she immediately relaxed.

“Is everything all right, Domina?” Penny asked, shocked when she came to an immediate halt and she ran into her Queen.  “I’m sorry, Domina,” she curtsied.

Channah turned slowly and gave Penny a narrow, withering look, then looked down at her feet meaningfully.  Taking the hint, Penny backed away from her nervously, until her leash was nearly straight instead of folded double and hanging vertically.  Delivering one more chiding frown, she warned:  “I know what you’re doing.  Trying to hide behind your mommy?”  She snickered at Penny’s confirming bloom of ruddy pink on her cheeks.  Busted.  “I’ll give you a choice.  You can show off and be seen, or you can hide and…” she caught the eyes of two shoulders roaming appreciatively over Penny’s perfectly-feminine backside, and she crooked her finger at them.  It was hard to tell whether they looked more nervous as they hustled straight to her and knelt, or Penny did as she tensed up and looked over her shoulder toward them.

With a harsh laugh, Channah pointed at Penny and spoke to them in Chinese.  When they responded hesitantly, she reiterated her point more stridently and they practically fell over themselves to press up against Penny and run their hands over her curves, zeroing in almost immediately on her breasts as Penny squeaked and froze.  “Mistress—Domina–!”

“Yes, I am,” she snorted.  “As I was saying, if you don’t want to glorify me with your shame, you can hide, and I’ll make you a plaything for my guards instead.”

“I’m sorry, Domina!  I’ll keep my distance, Domina, I promise!  I apologize Domina, I—ow!” she cried, as one of the soldiers began twisting her nipples, hard and the other started nuzzling Penny’s shoulder.

With a laugh, Channah waved the soldiers off and they disappeared with even more haste than they had originally approached, as Channah set off again on her parade of shame through the castle.  “I told them you girls were the stars of today’s performance.  Of course, they wanted to touch you.  For luck!”

“For luck?!”  The girls glanced at one another in confusion.

“It’s why the castle is in such a state.  All down to you and Esmeray… and, of course, Kadidia and me, but not one of them would dare to even think of touching me without being ordered to do so.  Thralls!”  she rolled her eyes.  “The way the five of us whipped up the devils with your entertaining little antics?  It’s why I’m going to let you come back here any weekend I can.  You’re going to be celebrities here!  And the longer you can remain my tormented, conflicted Princess, darling—” she patted Penny’s cheek patronizingly— “the better.  Your emotional angst is catnip to the damned.  Catnip!”

“Yes, Domina!” both girls chorused, looking at one another nervously but too intimidated by her manner and quick punishment of Penny to ask any of the questions that they—well, mainly Penny—fairly burst to ask. 

Channah, heedless of their feelings, resumed her promenade, seeming to take her time, moving at a relaxed, regal pace through the halls and courtyards and stairways of the disconcerted castle, chatting in an almost-flirtatious way with some of the groups they passed, until they reached a heavy, iron door flanked by four guards—not idle, not running anywhere, but simply alert, calm, and guarding the door with determination. 

The second they set eyes on their Queen, the four of them bowed deeply, one of them managing to pull open the door and still hold onto his weapon even as he did so.

Literature Section “06-119[X] The Long March of Shame”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 119 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1326 words::Explicit 1333 words—Accompanying Images:  1923-1924, 1930—Published 2025-06-18—©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.

1920 06-118 Easy Prey
1921 06-118 Fallen without a safety net
1922 Desperate, Dirty Damsels in Distress

PREVIOUSLY:  Kadidia has just finished with Penance and Chastity, and is now resting comfortably on top of the two smaller, squished girls, enjoying the intimacy of the afterglow.  NOW:

When Kadidia felt Esmeray pulling back and standing up, unwilling to remain a part of the girlpile any longer, Kadidia groaned and rolled over onto her back, chuckling as the girls panted and moued with relief.  “Take them—to their Domina, Qahramanah!” she commanded, closing her eyes and lying face-up, soaking up the sensations rippling across the heteraslakos and, in fact, through her own body as well.  “Then come back and I can help you plan your lessons for next week.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Esmeray answered, meaning it, before her voice turned hesitant.  “But I’m not sure Penance can move unless I separate her wrists from her ankles, Your Grace,” she observed doubtfully, as she helped Chastity struggle from Penance’s back and scramble up to a standing position.

“That’s fine,” the larger woman waved one hand vaguely, otherwise looking for all the world like a woman enjoying the warm rays of the Sun.  “These two girls are broken.  They won’t be a problem.  Ever again,” she added, laughing despite herself.  “But go ahead and chain her hands behind her back like Chastity.  Just so you develop good jawari-handling habits.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Esmeray promised, nodding, as she turned her attention to Penny, kneeling on her back as she had been taught, before unfastening Penny’s wrists from her ankles and then securing her wrists to one another as the girl sighed, her legs finally able to straighten from the froglike position they had been trapped in.  Only after her wrists had been secured, did Esmeray stand and help Penny to her feet, then took the two girls by their arms, and searched the heteraslakos for their Domina.

She spotted Channah, looking as oily and sweaty and bedraggled as Esmeray felt, sitting tiredly on one of the benches near the middle of the tower, her arm supportively resting on Fang’s shoulder.  Even from here, she could see Fang was exhausted and pale.  Guiding the girls forward, she saw Channah notice them and nod before returning her attention back to Fang.  As they drew close, they heard Channah assuring Fang gently:  “—as much time as you need.  We’ll make a stop at Sademtsaowah to lead my thralls there for the next ritual.  Focus on replenishing your herd and I will check on you next weekend.” 

Fang, looking haggard, pursed her lips and nodded.  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Channah stood, plucking up the girls’ cages from the surface of the bench, each cage dangling from a one of her long, elegant, manicured fingers, kissed Fang on the forehead, and summoned Hong and her girls.  “Take your Domina to her chambers.  When you have her settled, you may resume your ritual. I realize your ritual today was quite disrupted., but…”

“Oh, yes,” Hong nodded, anticipating Channah’s point.  “Absolutely, Your Majesty.  Well worth it.  We look forward to cooperating with your qahramanah and jawari next week.”

Hong and her girls curtsied, very low and very solemnly, before turning towards Fang and offering to help her, but knowing her too well to try and force their help on her.  Fang, meanwhile, set her jaw, and with a warning look to her vassals, stood by herself and marched determinedly for the stairs back to her quarters.  If Esmeray were asked to bet, she would have bet any sum she could raise that Fang made it to her quarters all by herself, and that no one who had not been on the platform would be given any reason to think she was anything more than tired or sore.

Channah turned towards Esmeray and her charges, smirking with satisfaction to see her two girls’ hunched, tentative postures and bowed heads.  “Ohhh…” she made a delighted pout face.  “Such sweet, submissive, humbled girls,” she cooed, folding them into her arms for a slimy hug and meeting Esmeray’s eyes triumphantly as the girls both pushed tightly against her, burying their heads in her shoulders and clearly revealing how much they craved her affection and approval.   “Aww…. My little sweeties.  Was Kadidia big and mean to you?   I can see you’re both a little tuckered out and traumatized after your long performance, but it was worth it, honey pots.  You both look soooo sexy, you’re going to have boys and girls chasing after you, when you get back.”  She kissed each girl on the top of her head, then continued:  “We have one quick stop at the Court of Lust itself—my castle, Sademtsaowah—so the damned will know to wait for us—well, me–there.  Then I’m going to take you straight to our own private paradise, where we’ll cut you loose, wash you up, and put you to bed for a nice, long sleep on mummy’s comfortable bed.  How does that sound?”

“Wonderful, Domina!”  Both girls exclaimed so eagerly Channah snickered again. 

“I just love grateful girls,” she beamed.  “I’m going to take such gooooood care of you girls.  Here, let me just…” she used one carabiner to fasten the end of a chain to Chastity’s collar, then measured off about three feet worth of chain before using a second carabiner to attach the chain to Penance’s collar, kissed each girl sweetly on the lips, and turned to Esmeray, holding the girls’ leash casually over her shoulder.

Leaning forward, she embraced Esmeray, both of them laughing at their oily, messy clothes.  Ignoring the girls and looking her qahramanah in the eye, she said:  “I’ll drop the girls off with you next Friday at Sademtsaowah.  Their duties on Earth have to take priority, but unless they have commitments there, they will be yours from Friday until Sunday for training and ritual.  Hong and her girls will remain your training partners no matter what castle you work from; and at least for the next few weeks, Kadidia will supervise your—and their” (she gestured back over her shoulder at the girls) “training.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Pausing deliberately to get Esmeray’s full attention, she frowned and asked:  “Did today help you to identify what you need to focus on this week, to be as ready as possible for next week’s training?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Esmeray nodded earnestly, meaning it and knowing it was important, but also betraying something uncertain and tentative within her.

Nodding with decision, Channah followed up, penetrating to the heart of Esmeray’s unspoken lack of confidence:  “And were you also able to understand what you might be able to bring to the ritual with your own girls?  What you might be able to offer Hong?”

Esmeray looked like a deer startled by a hunter, as Channah hugged her again, reassuringly, frowning expectantly.

Esmeray opened her mouth, paused as a thoughtful expression crossed her face, and then nodded at Channah in surprise.  “Why—yes, Your Majesty.”

“Good.  Stay here and watch Hong’s performance. You’ll get the girls back the afternoon before the Sabbat, which gives you and Hong time to coordinate your rituals.  Bring too many ideas and trust Hong’s judgment in which are worth pursuing.”  And with that, she looked back over her shoulders at her girls and asked teasingly:  “Are you sweet girls ready?”

Penny turned red.  Again.  “No—I mean, I’m sorry, Domina, but don’t you want us to get dressed?”

Channah laughed, spinning on her heel and looking back at the girl like she was sizing her up for pork chops.  “Do you know me at all?  Try that again.”

Penny struggled for words and finally squeaked, bending forward and crossing her legs as if it might help her be more modest:  “Shouldn’t we… put our dresses on, Domina?”

“Why?” she teased, enjoying Penny’s discomfort.  Esmeray watched the interaction with a strange intensity.

“Well—we—we want to be a credit to you, Domina!  Demure young ladies—”

Channah threw her head back and laughed out loud, as Penny wilted.

Literature Section “06-118 Ridden Hard and Put Away Wet“—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 118 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1304 words—Accompanying Images:  1920-1922—Published 2025-06-17—©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.

1914 06-117 The Agony of St. Penance in the Judas Cradle
1915 06-117 The Demon Inquisitrix of Cambridge
1916 06-117 The Passionate Impalement of St. Chastity

1917 06-117 The Rapturous Martyrdom of St. Chastity
1918 06-117 Sissy Breaker. Bitchmaker. Soultaker.  Kneel!
1919 06-117 The Tortured Epiphany of St. Penance

Explicit version no longer available.

PREVIOUSLY:  Penny is kneeling before Esmeray with her head in her lap, busted and broken in by Kadidia, who is now working Chastity over.   NOW:

Putting one arm across Chastity’s chest to hold her, she used the other to reach between them, attaching the front of her harness to the corresponding nodes on the back of Chastity’s vest, snap to snap and strap to buckle, until her hands were no longer needed, and Chastity dangled like a joey in a pouch or a forward-facing child in a papoose.   Well, she dangled almost like a joey or a child, if its hands were still tied behind its back, and instead of a protective pouch,  leather straps binding her in place to Kadidia, but leaving her helpless and her nude body exposed.

“What’s happening?!”  Chas wailed, and Penny looked back over her shoulder, eyes widening to see her friend staked like a prisoner of Vlad Dracul, her legs spread out and flailing as if the sheer volume of extra flesh inside her was forcing them outwards.  Mouing in panic, she  swallowed and buried her head back down on Esmeray’s lap obediently, even frantically, as if she might be able to crawl inside Esmeray completely and thereby protect and conceal her vulnerable, wide-open body instead of waiting compliantly and uncovered for whatever Kadidia was inclined to do to her.

“Didn’t you hear your Domina?”  Kadidia asked Chastity.  “We’re going to see if you’re actually interested enough in your little friend and whether her acceptance of you, will allow your transformation!  But because you’re both operatives and pathetic jawari of the succubae, neither of you will be in the driver’s seat.  I will.  I will be your puppeteer and you’ll be nothing more than my sock-puppet, your shape and rigidity entirely defined by me.”

Laughing, she knelt back down behind Penny, massaging Chastity’s oily skin, and laughed:  “Let’s get this where it needs to go before anything happens to it.”  Shoving her hips forward, she drove the impaled young man forward, bringing all three of them into connection.  Penny squealed as she felt the activity behind her and Kadidia barked at her:  “You can do better than that, little girl.  Beg like you’ve been panting for Chastity your entire life!  Encourage your friend!  If you love her, and want her dream to come true, instead of disappointing the succubae, you’ll whine like you did for your Domina.”

“Oh noo!”  Penny squeaked in embarrassed horror, eliciting laughter from Kadidia and even Esmeray before she made a couple of choking, gasping sounds and finally managed an unconvincing:  “Have me, Chas!  Go on, girlfriend!  Have at me, please!”

The succubae laughed uproariously and Kadidia bellowed:  “More!  Come on, show some spirit, Penny!  You’d make granite wilt!  Call your lover like a siren!  Beg for her!”

“Oh!  Chastity, baby!”  Penny shrieked, digging deep to try and remember every filthy, explicit, outrageous epithet and cry she had heard over the extreme, intense past three days:  “C’mon, baby, take me, damn you, you hot sexy bitch!”

“Penny!” Chastity half-gasped in shock, half-cried in passion.  “PENNY!  Do you—do you really mean it?”

“Of course,” Penny sobbed.  “You silly girl.  Don’t you know how badly I’ve wanted to feel close to you, that way, again—ever since the first time?  I wanted it so badly—I wanted YOU, your lips, your arms Chastity!  For so long I’ve felt like I couldn’t even tell my best friend how much I wanted to be closer with her!”  Penny began thrusting her hips like a whore, bucking and rubbing against Chastity as hard and as quickly as she could. 

“Oh, Penny!”  Chastity wept, her passion accompanied by sharp pain as she was flung violently, forward and back, against the harness holding her, her arms aching from their position, her tight bonds, and the rough physics of being used as a bouncy doll with your arms twisted up behind your back and a ship’s mast filling your nethers.  “I’ve wanted you for so long!”

“Then prove it!”  Penny screamed the challenge, bawling uncontrollably again, surrendering all for what little she could give her friend.  “Prove it!  Fill me up!  Come on, Chas, like she’s doing to you!  If you’re going to send me to hell, Chastity—you better make this the ride of your life—no, of my life!  The best fuck any little girl has ever been given!  Make me yours, Chas, make me yours!”

Chastity shrieked and kicked as she came, obviously finding Penny more than convincing enough, shouting and weeping and apologizing and finally just moaning and murmuring things no one could make any sense of except that she probably truly did love Penny.

Kadidia gasped, straightening up, pulling Chastity off Penny in the process, putting her hands on Chastity’s nipples and roughly playing with her chest as it turned into a lovely pair of breasts and at the same time, feeling her buttocks and hips expanding and pushing in and back on her pelvis as Chastity morphed into a woman in her arms, between her legs, and before her eyes.

Laughing and roaring like a lion, she growled:  “That’s a first… I don’t get too many of those anymore!”  Reaching forward with one hand, she seized Penny’s hair and dragged her up and onto her back, enjoying her look of shock and alarm with just a little gasp of passion as she forced her down until her shoulders touched the stone, still kneeling and obviously uncomfortable.  “Work me, sissy!  Before I wear your little friend out!”  And then she moved forward, making Penny’s whole world turn dusky and musky and overwhelming and all-enveloping.  Swatting Penny, eliciting a satisfying yelp and a prolonged sob as the girl tried to shield her most-sensitive bits, she amplified:  “You heard me—“ and then she sighed, enjoying Penny’s response, until—not long afterwards—her growling noises rose into an even louder roar, as, for the third time that ominous day, the vicious cycle of lust and torment triggered an unholy release of power.

Finally, Kadidia fell forwards, ignoring the cheering and excitement of the other succubae, using the girls as her cushion as she collapsed on top of the two smaller girls, pancaking them under her and enjoying her leisure as they whimpered and gasped for breath under her much-greater weight.

Literature Section “06-117[X] Slut-Shaming Spectacle”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 117 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1031 words::Explicit 1162 words—Accompanying Images:  1914-1919—Published 2025-06-16—©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.

07-04-F Allied Recruitment Messaging

These images fall into two groups:  Western Allied and Soviet.  The Western images are unrealistic, in my view, only in the extent to which they bring to the surface, themes that were present but heavily downplayed at the time.  Between Nazi Germany and Soviet Russia, the 1930s and 1940s were among the most socially disruptive in European history.  Both regimes used forced labor, starvation, the cold, concentration camps, and death camps to kill and incarcerate millions, while shuffling ethnic groups and entire nations back and forth like chess pieces to suit their designs.  All of the countries involved mobilized their populations for war, and to a greater extent than in previous wars, that included the mass mobilization of women in military, support, and industrial roles they had previously been discouraged from undertaking.  The result was families and friends being taken apart while strangers were thrown together.  This combined with longer-term trends and the general sense of “living for today” given the uncertainty of any future to change the ways workers were recruited, and the way romantic and sexual relationships formed and disintegrated.  Recruiting posters of the time, sometimes subtly but unmistakably, suggested that men could get laid by demonstrating their masculinity through military service; and that women could meet these masculine warriors by joining auxiliary formations that worked in a support role for (in most countries) male warriors.  The subtlety of some of these messages was deliberate because it was subversive:  public sentiment generally discouraged women, in particular, from departing from historical norms and expectations; and was alarmed by the disruptions of war.  But government propagandists used forbidden messaging anyway, often by remaining indirect and vague enough that their methods could be plausibly denied.  The Soviet image is unrealistic because even though it represents a loudly-touted message of international harmony and unity in communist ideology, that ideology was at complete odds with the highly nationalistic and ethnic realities of Soviet propaganda and policy.  There was a categorical inconsistency between, on the one hand, egalitarian Marxian and other communist messaging that preached the end of nationalism and racism in favor of class-based cooperation; and on the other hand, the extent to which Stalin used appeals to nationalism and patriotism to rally support within the Soviet Union for the war and for his regime; while simultaneously directing genocidal measures against ethnic groups and nations considered disloyal or risky from the Pacific Ocean to the Elbe river.  The fact Stalin, himself a Georgian, relied primarily on Russian nationalism, is just another ironic twist.  Western and Soviet propaganda were thus similar in their hypocrisy and cynicism.

Literature Section “07-04-F Allied Recruitment Messaging”—Accompanying Images:  1719-1724, 1942E, 1942R, 1944—Published 2025-06-13 to -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.

1719 07-04 Flying Aces cover July 1940–Britain’s Youngest Ace—2025-06-13; Rivqah, Roger, and Miryam; magazine cover; compare https://www.airplanesandrockets.com/magazines/flying-aces/images/flying-aces-may-1941-cover.jpg.  In reality, virtually every “Flying Aces” cover had an airplane on the cover, not people away from airplanes.  However, the image struck me as the kind of image gossip magazines would use in reporting on interesting war-related personalities.  I had originally had a mock cover of Collier’s magazine in mind; Colliers had several images of serviceman-and-his-wife during the war although having two women might have been a bit much for general-interest mass-circulation media of the time.  In the end I went with Flying Aces because, duh, the title complemented the theme; they did in fact have (fictional and factual) articles about fighter aces; and it was a British magazine.

1720 07-04 Volunteer for Flying Duties—2025-06-14; Miryam, Roger, Rivqah; recruitment poster; compare https://www.alamy.com/british-ww2-royal-air-force-raf-recruitment-poster-volunteer-for-flying-duties-1942-1945-image418221186.html  propaganda poster), of which there were a number of variants and of similarly-themed and composed posters, for the composition itself; and for the theme of recruitment posters suggesting that joining up is the best way to get laid, see, e.g., https://www.ebay.com/itm/284032713401.

1721 07-04 Take the Road to Victory—2025-06-14; Miryam, Roger, Rivqah; recruitment poster; compare

https://www.alamyimages.fr/la-seconde-guerre-mondiale-affiche-de-propagande-de-l-information-du-public-2-image351137925.html?imageid=3830CED0-63CD-4E2B-8EA0-0F6E32A3E753&p=639688&pn=1&searchId=577cfcdc58da60b6d23b057045f51060&searchtype=0 (for composition and wording generally). And for the theme of women seeking men:  https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/69031806763099077/ and https://www.alamy.com/ww2-propaganda-recruitment-serve-in-the-waaf-with-the-men-who-fly-british-ww2-recruitment-poster-womens-auxiliary-airforce-war-work-occupation-uk-1940s-world-war-ii-image503759123.html, (the latter of which I found when I was preparing this blurb, long after the image was generated, and even has the same pilot from 1720!)  Yes, the base image in 1721 is exactly the same base image as that used in 1720 (although processed differently)!  Posters directed at women were more subtle in the relationship messaging than those directed at men.   Of course, unlike the male counterpart who is encouraged to be tempted by women, proposing women look for husbands in the services might have gone too far towards suggesting women who joined the supporting services were hussies, given the unequal gender expectations of the time, and the great fears of the time in most combatant countries that the social disruption and rapidly changing norms occasioned by the war were undermining conservative values and putting young women at extreme risk.  Nonetheless, I went there with this poster, partly because I enjoyed the idea the same image, and even the same “V-for-Victory” slogan, might hold different messages for male and female viewers; and to highlight the differences between expected gender roles, and questioning what the motives for joining up were for men and women of the time.  I thought about having Hellinore’s sisters be more upstanding ladies looking for marriage, instead of slags looking for a good time, but challenging instead of endorsing expectations is always more fun; and I was trying to think of ideas to get Miryam, Roger, and Rivqah in images that was not-inconsistent with the project.

1722 07-04 Be Stooge for Capitalist War (CPUK propaganda printed 1941-06-21 and taken down next day)—2025-06-14; Miryam, Roger, Rivqah; propaganda poster.  I’m not a real big fan of communism, certainly not of the USSR, and found it repellant that communists in the Western allies were opposed to the war when Stalin was Hitler’s ally in carving up Europe; and when the war aims were more or less justified in terms of defending innocent people getting attacked, plundered, transported, enslaved, and killed by aggressive brutes (although clearly Britain’s desire for a balance of power, and naked French fear of Germany, were also critical), then suddenly did an about-face when Hitler stabbed Stalin in the back and it became a war about propping up Stalin’s regime in the name of global communist unity.  Nonetheless, I found the idea irresistible because the complete about-face in attitudes highlights the antithetical and utterly inconsistent perspectives Western communists of the time were able to reconcile in their own minds.

1723 07-04 Skeevey Aunties welcome youngest Ace back to UK soil 1940-06-29—2025-06-14; Miryam, Roger, Rivqah; old private photo.  See comments about posters for 1720-1722 regarding the origin of the image. When the AI gave me this image, it didn’t really tie into any of my planned posters; but I was too entertained by it to let it go to waste.

1724 07-04 Ace and his Aunties at the Officer’s Club the next morning 1940-06-30—2025-06-14; Rivqah, Roger, and Miryam; old private photo.  See comments about posters for 1720-1722 regarding the origin of the image, and about 1723 regarding the appeal of the image.

1944 07-04 I’d rather be with them… than waiting–The WAC—2025-06-15; Penance & Chastity; motivational poster; compare https://www.alamy.com/id-rather-be-with-them-than-waiting-the-wac-womens-army-corps-american-ww2-female-war-work-poster-1941-1945-image424727714.html.  American recruiters and marketing men seemed to be less subtle on the theme of women looking for men than the Brits.  Yes, the slogan could be interpreted as having more of a war-priority meaning than I think it did; but we’re getting pretty out of the closet here.  I loved this image because of the way it suggests Penny and Chas are half-dressed practically for foreign military-support duty, and half-dressed impractically for a cocktail party, mirroring the mixed message of the poster.

1942E&R 07-04 Workers of the Stalingrad Tractor Plant Named for F. Dzerzhinsky!  Arise and Fight for the Revolution!  Make Stalingrad the Graveyard of Fascism! (English & Russian)—2025-06-16; Kadidia; motivational poster; Translation (Russian to English):  РАБОТНИКИ СТАЛИНГРАДСКОГО ТРАКТОРНОГО ЗАВОДА ИМЕНИ Ф. ДЗЕРЖИНСКОГО!  Workers of the Stalingrad Tractor Plant Named for F. Dzerzhinsky!; СДЕЛАЕМ СТАЛИНГРАД КЛАДБИЩЕМ ФАШИЗМА!  Make Stalingrad the Graveyard of Fascism!.  I love the completely uninspiring wording of the factory name, which is typically Soviet; as is including turgid language like that in a propaganda poster.  The factory named was one of three huge factories at the heart of Stalingrad’s industrial district that became a scene of prolonged and vicious fighting.  All three factories were destroyed in the battle but rebuilt, 2 of them before the war ended.  To my knowledge, the factory workers themselves didn’t drop their hammers and sickles to pick up rifles when they heard the German tanks approaching their factory; but the idea that they might is such a communist, and especially Soviet, trope I wanted to employ it.  There were black workers in the USSR, including for example African-Americans disillusioned by America’s apartheid policies and system and attracted by socialism’s race-neutral language (along with white Americans attracted only by other propaganda messages).  More’s the pity the USSR didn’t live up to it, despite their willingness to capitalize on America’s failings on race issues.  Having a black woman lead a primarily white-male workforce to the barricades would not have been an alien idea to the leftists fighting on the Republican side in the Spanish Civil War three years earlier, and indeed the Anarchist, Syndicalist, and Communist posters portraying strong women and heroic people of color are one of the reasons I expanded the project to include works referencing the Spanish Civil War.  But multicultural internationalism, to the USSR, was a cynical means of recruiting foreign agents and causing disruption abroad, rather than a heavy theme in internal Soviet propaganda.

1913 06-116 Sissymaker Kadidia shows off her new toys
1914 06-116 Girls’ first post-makeover portrait
1915 06-116 Master makes her girls feel giddy and embarrassed
1916 06-116 Their moment of clarity:  Broken girls first start to beg for heavier control

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, prostatestimulation, overpowering, oralsex, and chokingplay themes at 06-116X Bottom-Busting at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Penny is kneeling before Esmeray with her head in her lap while Kadidia presses up against her.  Chastity is lying on her back, hip-to-hip with Penny, looking up at Kadidia.   NOW:

“No, no!”  Penny, not seeming to know she was moaning passionately, tried to shake her sweat-soaked oily head with Kadidia’s enormous hand around her, still kissing and making out with Kadidia, the counterpoint between their sweet, gentle, loving kisses and Kadidia’s invasion of Penny so intense Kadidia felt herself gathering to finish already. 

“That’s not what your body is saying, lovergirl,” Kadidia murmured, using her hand—well, a couple of fingers—on Penny to show her, force her to recognize for herself, how completely and undeniably she seemed to be the opposite of hating it.

But of course, being Penny, she still denied it:  “That’s not—It can’t—What’s WRONG with me?!?!”  Penny’s grunt turned into a hot-blooded shriek as Kadidia went all the way, nipping the girl’s lip and then shoving her tongue down the girl’s throat.

She throttled the girl momentarily with her tongue as she double-filled her, knowing how much the girl had to feel like her entire body had been stuffed, and loving how she was wiggling and shivering, overcome by the intense sensations.

“AWENOAGH!!” Penny managed to squawk again, like an untuned violin played by a cat, breaking down into tears of surrender as her body emphatically yielded, as Kadidia wrapped her arms around the girl and hugged her as tightly as she could, her own roar a deeper sound like the contralto leading Penny’s falsetto. 

Kadidia let her weight collapse onto Penny’s back and Chastity’s pelvis for what felt like a long time, but a time that couldn’t possibly be long enough.  Until finally, feeling she was ready, she whispered in Penny’s ear:  “Thank you, baby.  What do you say to your bunny-tamer for showing you what you are again?”

“Thank you, Goddess?”  Her whining, strained voice such a mix of torment and confusion Kadidia wanted to remember it just that way. 

With a quick kiss to Penny’s ear, she eased out and back, calling to Chas:  “She’s ready for you.  Now let’s make sure you’re ready.  And show some respect, boy!” she concluded, like an afterthought, settling back and enjoying her attentions, trying so hard, as she touched Chastity’s still-masculine(ish) body, the same expert petting that had so stirred her sisterwife, making sure she was ready.

Surprising all three of them by standing up, she took the bottle of olive oil, rolled Chastity up, pulling her feet over her shoulders, and covered her, then threw the bottle aside and began massaging her with increasing intensity.  Esmeray stared up in a combination of amazement, fascination, and horror.  Chas started looking nervous—this was not what she had expected!—and getting twitchy.  Penny just remained where Kadidia had left her, face-down, ignored, left to contemplate her own shameful performance and whatever it implied for any remaining aspirations of maleness she might have had, wrists and ankles still secured to one another, waiting for whatever might come.

“Now that’s a bottom bitch if I’ve ever taken one,” Kadidia opined scornfully, casually resting one boot on Penny’s battered haunches.  “If it was up to me, boy,” she continued, carefully checking and adjusting the leather harness over her dress, making it clear she was addressing Chastity, “You girls are so easy and weak, I’d skip the harness.  I don’t need it.  But unfortunately, you and I are both going to have to pay the price for showing off.  I once—once, so long ago—got a little rowdy at a party and just had to make sure everybody knew what a badass I was.  Some Greek hoplite, a King or an Archon or something, yelling about how there were no real men in Asia or Africa—something I actually agree with,” she guffawed, taking her foot off Penny and squaring off over Chas.  “But like a Greek, he asserted they weren’t men because they wore pants—” she burst out laughing, unable to help herself— “and real men didn’t wear pants.  Greeks!  Greek men!  Standing there in his chiton…!”  She shook her head in amusement, as she lined up her body with Chastity’s… and brought her hammer down, enjoying but pretending to ignore Chastity’s turn to start squealing and thrashing around.  “The world’s self-appointed judges of manhood, and they wear dresses.  It was too funny!  And then he added, ‘not like in Europe,’ as he mounted his partner!  I mean—really!—how could I—possibly have—held myself back?!”  She could hardly breathe at the revelation, although it hardly seemed to phase her.  “I had to put him in his place!  Obviously!  And now, once every couple of centuries, one of my sisters remembers and begs me to reenact the scene to show up—or occasionally, like today, simply put down—some male.”

“Please stop!”  Chastity shouted from below her.

“They said you’re experienced!  I do enjoy a tight sleeve once in awhile.”

“I am—I mean, maybe I could—but—but you’re—you’re so big!—”

She chuckled.  “Why thank you, pumpkin, but I already knew that.  Don’t mind me, baby girl, I’m just—” with a push— “fucking with you.”  Chastity wailed, as Kadidia bounced on her.  “I—call it—poppet-popping!  Yeah, you’re… soo nice.”

“Now I admit… this is an important day.  An… well,” she shook her head, “An amazing day.  The things that have happened here…. I know it’s actually a good use of this trick.  Not just a party gag, but something that might—actually—serve the power of the Succubae and the Court of Lust!  How could I possibly refuse?  And so you… are going to be the first.”

“The—the first?!”  Chas asked, panicked, not having expected any of this a few minutes ago; and not really understanding what Kadidia had in mind.

“The first I’m going to saddle like this.”

“’S—s—saddle?!”  She asked, not liking the sound of that.  “Please, no!”

“It’s going to be awesome.  You should thank me for choosing you to be the first!”  She was well-aware her victim was starting to panic, and relished it.  “Are you still excited?” she demanded.

“I don’t—I don’t—oh!  I am!  Yes!”

“I thought so.  Now… what’s going to happen is…”

Bending over, her body mimicking the shape of his, she nearly put her head to his back, then snaked her arms around the boy-to-be-a-girl, holding her tightly and…

Straightening to a standing position, lifting up Chastity in a single, still-graceful motion, drawing genuinely-impressed applause from the watching succubae.

Putting one arm across Chastity’s chest to hold her, she used the other to reach between them, attaching the front of her harness to the corresponding nodes on the back of Chastity’s vest, snap to snap and strap to buckle, until her hands were no longer needed, and Chastity dangled like a joey in a pouch or a forward-facing child in a papoose.

Literature Section “06-116[X] Poppet-Popping”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 116 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1135 words::Explicit 1356 words—Accompanying Images:  1913-1916—Published 2025-05-15—©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.

1906 06-115 Road Runner Kadidia–coming in hot
1907 06-115 Wiley Coyote girls–Oh NO!
1908 06-115 Road-Runner Kadidia–BEEP! BEEP!
1909 06-115 Wiley Coyote girls–UH OH!

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, prostatestimulation, masturbation, consensualnonconsent, overpowering, puberty, oralsex, edgeplay, queening, lubricating, corporalpunishment, fearplay, roughsex, consensualnonconsent, PTSD, sadism, and masochism themes at 06-115X Kadidia’s Obedient Fuck-Puppets at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Penny is kneeling before Esmeray with her head in her lap.  Chastity is lying on her back, hip-to-hip with Penny, looking up at Kadidia.   NOW:

Shifting to her knees, Kadidia hiked up her dress to her hips and sank down right above Chastity’, giving her a front-row seat to Kadidia’s transformation, one that put even other succubae to shame.  Playing with Chastity, she asked curiously:  “Does it hurt, lying on your back with your hands tied behind your back?”

“Yes Goddess!”  Chastity answered, the pitch of her voice confirming her discomfort.

“Good.  It doesn’t seem to be interfering with your enjoyment, though?”

“No, it doesn’t, Goddess.”

“Kiss me,” she barked, and then moaned with pleasure as Chastity did so.  “That’s a good girl.  SOO much more cooperative than your little face-down girlfriend there, who always has to pretend to put up a fight before she caves in.  Well, so both you girls know, I’m impatient.  So we’re not going to be wasting any time asking her to do anything.  We’re just going to enjoy her.  Here, give me that,” she reached for the olive oil bottle and poured it on herself.  “I’m going to test Penny for you, to make sure she’s ready,” she announced improbably, generating an anxious, useless squealing and wiggling by Penny that made her laugh.  With both hands, she swatted Penny’s cheeks, causing her to jolt and make an intense, if muffled, sound into Esmeray’s crotch.  “Always so difficult!” she mock-complained.  And snickering:  “That’s why I want to check her out for you.  Best let me protect you by going first.”

And with that, she rose up on her knees and began moving forward, using her hands to position Penance just where she wanted her, and at the same time, to feed her even more magically than she had already had, a low level, too little for her to detect, knowing she would still be primed.  Kadidia’s touch caused Penny to jerk like a bunny trying to jump when she made contact, then try to scramble by instinct as she felt Kadidia press against and push through her opening.  As she felt the full girth prizing her, she fluttered and wiggled, making muffled noises between Esmeray’s legs.  Kadidia kept magically charging her, staying under her radar, and then activating her twister to go to work on her.

“You—stop!”  Esmeray yelped, using her free hand to pull up on Penny’s hair, revealing her huffing, strained red face:

“Please no Master.  Please no Goddess!  You’re too big you must be!  Please I beg you…”. Esmeray and Kadidia shared an evil look of pleasure over Penny’s wrenching, twisting back.  Esmeray’s was mixed with a kind of physical revulsion that Kadidia could see she was resisting, the combination of expressions on her face something like a morbid fascination, a person’s inability to look away from an unfolding calamity despite the distress it was causing them. 

Kadidia leaned down and whispered in Penny’s ear:  “Resisting is the worst thing you can do, peaches.  Physically, I mean.  You need to do exactly the opposite and relax… that will make it sensual.  When you fight, your muscles make you tighter and…” Kadidia laughed “your weakness makes me … well.”

“Oh! Ican’tIcan’tI’msorryI’msorryIcan’tIjustcan’tIcan’tomigodIcan’thelpitIcan’tIcan’t—”  Penny squealed, a high-pitched sound of vulnerability, and it broke the spell on Esmeray.  She shoved Penny’s head back down, and looked more relaxed to be feeling her than listening to her.

“You know her twister will protect her, don’t you?”  Kadidia explained to Esmeray.  “It’s part of the training.” Kadidia hissed.  Esmeray swallowed and nodded, showing her comprehension, but Kadidia could see she was struggling, and against internal forces she might not be able to master.  “If you have to break contact, it’s fine.  For intense activities like… this?” she glanced down at the still-thrashing Penny “You normally want at least two succubae or qahramanat for each jariya..”  She shrugged.  “But I think it’s safe to say these sweet hot girls aren’t going to give me any problems.”  She laughed.  “I’m not worried.”  And she put her own hand on the back of Penny’s head, pushing down so hard Esmeray froze in fear as her body remembered—things—But Penny, after getting more agitated for a second, fell limp, becoming completely passive to Kadidia.

Laughing with satisfaction, Kadidia pulled up on her hair again and they found she was still passionate, but just passive.  “That’s a girl,” Kadidia complemented her.  “Let her chains loosen a bit?”  And when Esmeray did, she pulled the girl up, using one hand to pinch and roll her nipple while the other hand turned her red, emotional face, and kissed her, softly, even as she continued to wreck her, inch by inch.  “Kiss me back sweetie” she commanded calmly, smiling when Penny did.  “That’s my girl. That’s my good girl.  I’m almost there sweet thing.  Tell me I’m your goddess and master and how badly you want me.  Do it!”

“You are my goddess!  You are my master!”  the girl admitted, so deliriously Kadidia couldn’t even tell if she knew what she was saying.  “Ruin me, Master!  PLEASE!”

“I think you like it,” Kadidia whispered.  “What kind of whore moans that way for this kind of treatment?”

Literature Section “06-115[X] Kadidia’s Obedient F***-Puppets”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 115 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 848 words::Explicit 1117 words—Accompanying Images:  1906-1909—Published 2025-06-13—©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.