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07-38C – Just Some Bad Dirty Fun: Packing and Jacking–UPDATED

2025-09-182025-09-22 admin

*2200 07-38 Chthonic Tarot–Pharaoh of Diamonds–Mexico (Poker-sized–variant A)*

*2201 07-38 Chthonic Tarot–Pharaoh of Diamonds–Mexico (Poker-sized–variant B)*

*2237 07-38C THANK YOU 200 Watchers! …again (broken heart queen)*

WARNING: CONTAINS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT.

GAME RULES AVAILABLE HERE. [INSERT LINK]

RM: https://theremainderman.com/stories/07-38a-mans-ruin-succubaean-rules-for-playing-perdition/

DA: https://www.deviantart.com/theremainderman-com/art/07-38A-Man-s-Ruin-Succubaean-Perdition-Rules-1239280264

PREVIOUSLY: Channah and Húanglóng have agreed to resolve a disagreement between them by betting on a game of Perdition: Demonic Tarot. When Penny is upset to find her services anted up into the pot, Channah dares her to raise the stakes and fight for herself. The game is beginning with the serious business of betting enhanced by shameless teasing and cheating on the side. NOW:

Stake 1—Betting Their Asses

“As the hostess, it falls to me to call for the stakes. With the House whole,” Channah began, batting her eyelashes at her husband: “Sweetie dear, since you are offering a condition…”

Húanglóng responded, rolling his eyes: “Yes, dear. Channah, as stakes for this game, I offer the services of myself and two of my best vassals—their selection being subject to your veto—to spend exactly one week at Sademtsaowah using every ounce of our persuasive powers in good faith training every jariya you deliver to us there during the week we are committed to staying. And as a condition for inducing you to make a counter-stake, I renounce any claim that under our marriage contract, marrying chattel would change their status or their treatment.”

“Thank you, my love,” Channah smiled and reciprocated: “Húanglóng, as stakes for this game, I offer the services of my servants George, Jacob, Esmeray, Chastity, and Penance, with Fang’s consent Huifen—”

Fang quietly but audibly intoned “Consent.”

“and with Kadidia’s consent Boubacar—”

Kadidia likewise murmured “Consent.”

“In their present condition less any losses they incur during this esteemed game, for a period of exactly one week, with title and no restrictions of any kind except that you must return them in at least as good as the condition you received them, subject to normal wear and tear. I will deliver them to you without anything else, not so much as a stitch of clothing or a sip of water, if you can win more tricks than me before the House is unsealed.”

“Your counter is acceptable, and my offer is firm.”

“I accept it.”

“DONE!” they both cried, slamming their fists on the table.

“Well-met and well-bet!” came several approving cries from around the table.

Stake 2—Staked and Baked

Practically before the cheers were finished, Judas impatiently barked:

“As stakes for every trick of this game, I offer on behalf of the Lodge that every member of the team losing the highest-ranked card, take a deep draught. And as a condition for inducing the members of each team to agree, I propose every member of the Lodge finish a tankard or a bong before each deal and certify their compliance by pronouncing themselves ‘Staked and Baked’!”

“Seconded!” Húanglóng, Rivqah, and Kadidia all roared at once. “Vote!”

“Aye!” every demon at the table announced, and then immediately stared at Penny, whose jaw had dropped at the proposal and had to close her mouth before she gulped.

“Excuse me, Mistresses and Masters.” Turning to her teammates she asked “What do you think?”

While behind her came a chorus of loud boos and razz noises. Penny glanced back, looking indignant, and burst: “What?! Mistresses.”

“This isn’t a democracy!”

“Who do you think you’re playing with?!”

“I was told the rules—” more catcalls immediately drowned out Penny’s ability to speak, and almost, she capitulated, but noticing several players were laughing, Jacob looked pissed, Tiferet looked curious, and the human lovers looked resigned (and ignoring George’s confused expression), Penny frowned thoughtfully, turning back towards her teammates.

Before she could even articulate her question, Chas, with a gesture for her to hurry, said: “Yes! Yes! Of course!”

“Fine,” Esmeray agreed, unphased.

“Ah—Aye?” Penny said back to the table

“DONE!” Judas led a chorus comprised of everyone at the table except Penny, likewise leading the Lodge by slamming his fist down into the table.

“PRINCESS!” Channah bellowed.

“Done,” Startled, she rapped the table unconvincingly, earning another round of complaints.

Stake 3—Packed and Jacked

“Is this one as soft as she seems?” Judas demanded.

“She is!” Kadidia, Rivqah, and Miriam all chorused with various degrees of disparagement while Penny’s shoulders stiffened and Channah choked with laughter on the bong she was inhaling from.

Judas shook his head while Húanglóng barked, “I think I see where this is going! Doing—as you have asked—by applying my ingenuity to their training, I think we need to play by dragon rules. I propose we add the Dragon King rule for the duration of the game!” From their reactions, Channah and her handmaidens knew this rule, and would be likely to approve.

“I am not familiar with that,” Judas admitted, while several other players shook their heads to indicate the same.

“Point of order—” Penny raised her hand, being completely ignored by Húanglóng, who bellowed over her:

“I propose, starting immediately, that the starter of each deal be able to unilaterally change and add rules at the beginning of each deal!”

“I love it!” “Second!” “Vote!” various demons cried.

Penny seized a momentary silence to blurt out at high speed: “point-of-order-you-can’t-add-rules-the-first-round!” And then when the demons came up short, staring at her, she swallowed again. “Can you?”

Kadidia and Fang exchanged an amused, but intent look over Penny’s head that the girls would soon understand meant they were communicating through their minds. With a decisive nod, they both surprised Penny by sliding right up against her from either side, hooking their near arms under hers to push them behind their shoulders where they would be useless and locking them in place with their own arms, their near hands each reaching around Penny’s head to play with her hair and ears and giggling at her reaction.

“Hey!” Penny protested ineffectually. “Wha—you can’t—can you?!”

“Actually, we can, chattel,” Fang assured her. “As long as we don’t interfere with your game play—and since we haven’t even chosen the starter or the dealer yet, there’s no game to play—we can do—” she leaned in, brushing her lips over Kadidia’s hand and Penny’s ear to whisper: “whatever we want.”

“And make you do whatever we want,” Kadidia added, reminding her: “You’re still property of our Queen, and thus chattel to all the succubae. Chattel.” And then, seeing how Penny gasped, she reached her far hand around, nodding at Fang who followed her lead. Both of them placed their hands on Penny’s knees, and when she tried instinctively to snap them together, both succubae laughed, slipping their hands partway up Penny’s thighs and seizing them by their insides, pulling them insistently. “Are you… resisting, chattel?” her soft, pseudo-intimate suggestion hinting at closeness while being pitched loudly enough for the whole table to hear, provoking a round of expressions of surprise and mock-concern.

“No, Mistress,” Penny whined, deflating and yielding as the two succubae prised her knees apart and then gasping again in shock, amusing the other teams, as they deftly lifted them over their own knees.

Before their hands snuck back towards Penny’s crotch, almost making the poor girl hyperventilate.

“Don’t move them back unless we tell you to,” Fang whispered.

“No, Mistress!”

“Do you know what your Domina gave us?”

“No, Mistress?” Penny sounded uncertain and nervous.

“Access… privileges…” Fang hissed sensually, as her hand closed on Penny’s cage, squeezing it to command it to open and pulling it from her body, eliciting a deep, shocked breath that turned into a querulous squeal.

“She sounds scared!” Judas laughed. “Certainly not the reaction you’d expect from a girl lucky enough to have kept her cock. So far.”

“Oh, she doesn’t have a cock—look at it,” Fang simpered, leaning back so by leaning forward Judas could see it.

With a surprised sound, he laughed: “Point taken!”

“But her clitty is very. Hard,” Fang purred.

“And it is cute,” Kadidia teased.

“I’d warn you she hasn’t been allowed any cummies in some time and she’s close to popping but…” Channah shrugged.

“Oh, it’s obvious,” Kadidia laughed.

“Open your mouth,” Fang commanded her quietly; and then: “Wider.” And when Penny obeyed, she pushed the cage, and the hem of Penny’s dress, between her teeth, commanding her to “Hold those fast!” This, and the way they were holding her arms behind them and her legs on top of theirs, had two salutary effects: The first, of putting Penny completely on display for the very salacious attentions of her admirers, and the second, of shutting Penny up.

Fang held up a single finger, her index finger, so close to Penny’s face her eyes crossed, and then slowly and dramatically, dropped it between Penny’s legs, tickle-stroking her clit from one end to the other, eliciting a forceful, helpless squeak and a helpless shudder that caused the entire crowd to erupt in delight. Her face turned red and she writhed and shuddered helplessly under the intensity of Fang’s one, delicate, carefully-applied fingertip, entertaining the Lodge even as it embarrassed her. Most of all, it embarrassed her she couldn’t help her body’s (and if she could admit it to herself, her soul’s) responses to the things that were done to her, no matter how much she tried. It made her feel like a scandalous, sinful little hussy, and she was afraid it revealed her to be exactly that.

“What do you think… shouldn’t your team vote to play Dragon King Perdition? Hmm baby?”

“You know we’d think up ever such sensual and obscene pleasures a scandalous, sinful little hussy like you would adore!”

Penny made a sharp, screeching sound of protest as the room erupted in cruel laughter, mortified and dismayed to have her own thoughts—thoughts she wished she could stop herself hearing, or better yet even having—broadcast to the roomful of people around her.

“And I think we could add rules in the first round,” Kadidia managed to make it sound like something she’d just decided this moment, as her finger began brushing over Penny’s taint, slipping insidiously between the rising globes of her buttocks to explore and tease where they had not been invited. But Penny’s face and labored breath and glowing skin made it obvious to everyone in the room that she was incapable of offering resistance to any violation, however outrageous, if only her expert handlers were the ones to demand it of her. Her hips were starting to shift and roll, and the sounds she made when she breathed were becoming higher-pitched and harder. “Don’t you, ‘zuckerbär’?”

“Maybe—” Penny almost seemed to have forgotten her mouth was supposed to be holding her cage and hem; the dress didn’t fall far, but her cage would have fallen to the floor and rolled under the table if Fang hadn’t caught it and tossed it on the table before setting her hand back to work. “Domina Esmeray please—”

“Nooo,” her qahramanah promptly said, firmly and lyrically, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world but she was trying to explain it to a child. Pushing her knuckles into Penny’s back, she urged her: “Say ‘no’ or say nothing!”

“Yes Mistress—I mean, no! OHOWOWOWW!” her voice jumped an octave and several decibels as Kadidia’s teasing finger curled with her other fingers into a vise she clamped around Penny’s purse, twisting and pinching it brutally enough that Penny instinctively started bringing her legs together and trying to struggle out of their arms. But they just laughed, Kadidia wrenching all the harder and Fang turning her own gentle fingertip into a raking claw.

“Legs spread!” they both commanded at once, and with a whimper, and then sobbing, Penny made herself yield, her knees shaking with the effort to fight her own instincts while Kadidia continued to hurt her, confused further as Fang kissed her sweetly… and then Kadidia, aggressively.

Around them, the assault on Penny was bad news for everyone else of lower status. The wisdom of Tifaret’s proactive attentions to her Queen became more obvious—by anticipating her liege’s pleasure, she at least had some measure of agency over how she served it. Whether Channah was kinder to her than her handmaidens had been to the cambions because of her demonic purity, or because of her cleverness, was not entirely clear. But their particular cruelty to Jacob seemed confirmed by how Rivqah, almost idly, was turning and twisting the nipple clamps she had just affixed to him. Oliver’s fate, meanwhile, was somewhere in the middle: Standing rigidly, facing away from the table, to form a seat-back for Miriam.

Húanglóng, sitting on the other side of Fang, snarled, making a mildly disgusted gesture towards Penny, its mildness expressing more about his laid-back personality than his opinion of people: “You’re rewarding her! She’s clearly a nervous Nellie, a sour-faced Puritan, and even worse—a pedantic pseudo-intellectual! All at once!”

“Pseudo-intellectual,” Channah crowed. “Ouch! I’ll have you know I’ve invested in years of education for these three!”

“They’re shitting cattle! Swine before whom you’ve cast your pearls. ‘Pseudo’ at best, I’d say. And I can assure you, little Ms. Twit—” Húanglóng shook his finger at Penny accusingly “—if you so much as open your entitled little mouth while you’re reporting to me, I’ll fill it immediately with something that needs servicing! Speaking of which….”

Everyone who was a full-blooded demon was laughing, as Húanglóng leaned behind Fang to grab Huifen around her waist and Hong by her arm, pulling them both over to him and sitting them on opposite knees as they squealed and purred perfectly for him. “Seeing as how you’re not using these…”

Fang’s face revealed little or nothing, but it can be said she didn’t look enthusiastic, or necessarily even pleased, by the King’s—not even her King’s—helping himself to her property.

Húanglóng would not have noticed if she had been more expressive; he was already locking lips with Hong, who was giggling and moving her hand between his legs, while Huifen followed her Mistress’s lead, leaning over to kiss his neck and running her hand over his chest.

On the other side of Esmeray, Judas, complaining: “I’m not going to be the only one left out! You two!” he snapped his finger at Chastity and Boubacar. “Come get on my knees!”

Chastity felt her heart flutter; she just couldn’t tell why. She felt fear, primarily of the unknown, but she also felt excitement, from that, and the way Judas looked; which was normal enough—not like the Dragon King with his nearly divine charisma and size—but fit and well-maintained. And not the tiniest part of her was glad someone had at least picked her! A minute later, despite her embarrassment at being ordered around and used as a prostitute, and by a male no less, she also felt herself hardening , provoking a pleased chuckle from Judas when he felt it. It was a vile, nasty, dirty, delicious, daring excitement she’d become trained to without ever intending to; a shameful, wicked, thrilling feeling just on the cusp between craving and nausea, that she hadn’t felt with such force since her fagmaster had graduated a year ahead of her. It was a kind of a sick, conditioned thrill serving the succubae hadn’t juiced her with. Chastity didn’t know why, exactly; only that her reaction to being dominated by Judas was stronger and more confusing than serving Mayaan, or Channah and her Duchesses.

She blushed a brilliant tomato red. And she kinda liked it.

Obviously, she was not alone in her helpless and conflicted reactions to her treatment. Fang was whispering, with mock-disgust: “She’s leaking!” just as—miraculously from Penny’s point of view—Kadidia released her brutal hold on Penny, moving her hand to yank Penny forward by her leg until her bottom was hanging off the edge of the divan and only her legs and arms were holding her aloft. Fang giggled, blowing on Penny’s ear. “I’m not sure if I did this by exciting her, or you made her pee in fear! A little bit of both, I think.”

“Either way, it will have to do,” Kadidia rumbled, collecting it on her fingertip and immediately pushing her long, powerful middle finger against, and then inside, Penny’s bottom as she cooed helplessly. Her cry degenerated rapidly into a strange, delighted, strangled, gurgling sigh of a kind. She concluded, with a satisfied smirk: “How’s it feel to be packed and jacked, sweetie?” The question was taken as rhetorical by the other demons, who laughed and applauded.

“Don’t sway!” Esmeray—the only one of the humans and cambions not being actively used by demons—took advantage of her situation to protect her team’s interests. Alarmed, she growled, tapping Penny’s shoulder insistently from behind, seizing Penny’s neck with her other hand and pulling back on it so she could bite the back of her neck sharply to keep her attention focused. “Demand they sustain your point of order!”

“I—er…” Penny croaked, her legs straightening and her toes pointing over her captors’ laps as she shuddered slightly: “Sustained—me—please…”

Channah, laughing with the rest of them but quite serious, slammed her palms on the table and commanded, with a resigned tone: “Stop! She is not to cum!”

And as Fang and Kadidia abruptly withdrew, laughing in a conspiracy of glances, they revealed the wreck that was left of Penny, her eyes rolled up inside the lids of her eyes, her mouth hanging wide open and gasping, her head rolling from side to side, lying with her hands curled around Kadidia’s and Fang’s shoulders holding tight for dear life, her legs straight out and toes curling back in a hyperextended split, her whole body shuddering on her captors as her sensitive little clit throbbed with as much yang as it could muster between her legs.

Kadidia casually dipped and waggled her finger in Penny’s wine cup and fed it to her, quietly ordering her to clean it, repeating the action until she was satisfied her hand was pristine, as the conversation continued around them.

Stake 4—Orgasm Control

The whole table stared with fascinated suspense as Judas cried “A Hate she still comes!”

“I’ll cover that action,” Rivqah answered. “Idiot.”

“How little he thinks of succubae!” Miriam agreed.

“Bring it in-house!” Tifaret demanded, requesting that he not merely lay a side bet but add stakes to the game, as Penny’s shaking slowed.

“Hear hear!” several others chorused.

“Whoever makes her cum first—” Judas started, distracted for good reason.

“No! Boo!” came shouts immediately from most of the succubae around them, laughing and shaking their heads.

“What?”

“You are not going to reward anyone for making her cum!” Channah complained.

“Whyever not?”

“Males!” howled the succubae from every direction, and even Judas laughed guiltily.

“Really, as with any steer, it wouldn’t be much of a bet, would it?” Rivqah observed. “I mean…” she gestured towards the still-struggling, gasping Penny.

Tifaret snorted, almost spitting out a mouthful of wine. “The only question would be whether we’d accidentally tear her little clit off as we fought to touch it first!”

“A touch is all it would take!” Fang agreed, smirking down at Penny’s bobbing member. “Still! She’s a horny little bitch.”

“And more to the point,” Húanglóng yelled, “No cheapening of the stakes!”

“I would never!” Judas thundered. “You impugn me, sir!” And then immediately undermined his own indignation by murmuring: “What did I do?” revealing he clearly had no idea what Húanglóng was talking about.

“This steer is already a stake between Channah and I,” the dragon explained, “Any jariya, but especially a steer, is worth more quick than slack!”

“Well, I mean… a bull is worth more quick, surely?” Rivqah frowned.

“Not to me,” Judas scoffed. “I don’t need them hard. Not that it’s ever a problem….”

The original steer in question finally started to calm, breathing more regularly, her muscles slowly relaxing from bow-taut to slumped, with a forlorn expression that amused those who saw it.

“Oh, all right,” Judas conceded. “But if you want a prudish bet it will be better-formed by one of my viraginous sisters.”

“Damned right you are!” Kadidia agreed.

As it happened, it it was Esmeray who startled them all by making a not-very-modest proposal: “As stakes for the game, I offer on behalf of the Lodge that if any other team makes Penny cum, they have to clean it up with their tongues.”

The table erupted immediately with exaggerated objections before she was even finished: “No!” “Outrageous!” “She’s just a slave!” “She should reward us for that!”

So Esmeray had to raise her voice to finish her wager: “And if Penny or Chastity makes her cum, I’m going to fist them with the biggest item in their toybox and leave it inside the offender.”

The protests immediately trailed off as everyone at the table, while laughing or somehow managing not to, agreed that was fair. Well, everyone except Penny and Chas, who despite their respective distractions, were startled enough to stare at her in shock.

“I think that should protect your interests dear, and my plans,” Channah admitted. “Assuming, that is, Penny understands what we’re talking about?” Everyone immediately looked at Penny, whose expression was all the answer they needed. “I’d say she’s worked it out.”

Penny, afraid of being blamed for a demon’s work, could only manage: “Maybe it would be best if you—put my cage back on, Domina?”

As the players dissolved in laughter, Channah shook her head. “Certainly not! Esmeray, if you could learn to enjoy the interests of succubae you’d have a bright future at this game. That was an excellent wager. Now I feel torn between my plans for Penny and the bright spectacle of someone having to deliver! Exactly what this game is about!”

“Second!” called Kadidia, clarifying “the newly-proposed game stakes.”

Húanglóng, Rivqah, and Miriam all roared at once. “Vote!”

“Done!” shouted everyone at the table, except Penny again (if she could even be said to be “at the table” anymore), whose jaw had dropped at the proposal and who didn’t even turn to her teammates before instinctively beginning: “No!—” But Esmeray was ready for her, bringing her hand up from Penny’s neck to her mouth, covering it firmly and pulling the smaller woman back against her shoulder as Esmeray declared “Done,” in her usual businesslike way. Penny instinctively reached up to seize Esmeray’s hands, but then hesitated, and instead of fighting, she obediently held onto Esmeray’s arm, looking indignant but uncertain.

Chas thought about trying to stand up for her friend, expecting (or perhaps, more accurately, hoping) it was pointless, and feeling guilty for her silence.

Kadidia, however, did act—offering a fresh bong to Esmeray and suggesting: “This will fill her as well as a cock and better than your hand.” And when she saw Esmeray wasn’t following: “Use it for a pacifier on your zuckerbär.”

“She’ll choke on it,” Esmeray assured her. “And then probably throw up. On us, Mistress.”

“From what I’ve seen of the girl, she’s likely right,” Fang conceded. “Perhaps she should stick with the spiked wine.”

Kadidia considered for a minute, then looked thoughtfully at Channah, her lips curved upwards in amusement: “You want to keep your wives and your bed sweet, don’t you?”

“Perhaps 3 nights out of 4,” Channah allowed. “And rough the other one.” The demons roared with laughter. “But…” Channah’s eyes narrowed. “I expect they’ll need to be sweet with their clients more often than that. But never dull,” she emphasized. “Never dull in my bed or with their clients. I have whorehouses full of those.”

“The Germans have been experimenting with all manner of tinctures.”

“Alchemists?”

“Some of them, yes; others, physicians. A Swiss one, Theophrastus von Hohenheim,” she laughed “with a choleric temperament that continually gets him into trouble has invented a number of laughably toxic and other dangerous concoctions, including one called laudanum. But his ‘laudanum’ does contain one ancient and proven medicine, a most agreeable tincture of the poppy, which I like to blend with the tincture of Má.” She set a small bottle on the table filled with a dirty dark-brown liquid. “It can be diluted in wine or simply mixed with honey or blackstrap molasses. Although Boubacar’s training is so far advanced, he will eat the tincture by itself!” Kadidia laughed, not quite pleasantly. “Make her suck on this until it’s empty. You’ll see.”

And when Esmeray nodded, Kadidia rolled it into Penny’s mouth, as Esmeray raised her hand, lowering it back down and then jiggling it in Penny’s mouth as she looked down at her, drinking up her affront and submission like a drug. “You heard grandmother. Suck on it for mommy. I said—” and then, seeing Penny comply, she looked back up at the table, well pleased with herself.

Stake 5—Conspiracy of Silence

“Yes,” Miriam agreed, “It is good to silence a slave. To that end, for the benefit of and on behalf of the Lodge, I propose as stakes for the game that anyone who raises a point of order that a majority of the Lodge overrules has to spend the rest of the game as a—”

“Except dealing!” Channah interjected.

“The rest of the game except dealing, as naked furniture of choice for the starter team.”

It was seconded and done as quickly as it was proposed, Esmeray both agreeing and ensuring with a glance that Chas remained quiet and with her hand that Penance did. Although her eyes blazed with the injustice and unreasonableness of what was happening, Penny just clung to Esmeray’s arm, tears stinging her eyes.

Stake 6—Opposing Forces

Judas grinned evilly.

“Simply to keep the game interesting…”

“Oh, we must keep it interesting,” Channah agreed.

“On behalf of the Lodge, I propose as stakes for the trick that any team, including, ah—let’s see—Aristotle and Ms. Glower over there!” And he snapped his finger with his arm pointing toward Penny and Esmeray.

“Meoto,” Rivqah prompted, proposing one of Penny’s nicknames—chatterbox, which in Japanese also implied effeminacy.

“Yes! Meoto’s team! Any team with a member moving their flesh against Meoto’s clitoris and purse before the first card is played in each trick, may switch turn-order with anyone else for that trick.”

This proposal actually prompted a second of silence before people started responding. There were two “seconds,” but Miriam began hesitantly: “That… sounds like….” Then she shook her head. “Never mind.”

“It’s not a rule modification!” Judas insisted, knowing what she had been considering asking.
“Each party to the transaction is just agreeing they will switch their own place if they lose the bet, and since it’s a proposed rule for the lodge, everyone will have made the same agreement!”

“Plausible….” “I like it!” “Oh, come now, how can we resist?” The demons offered a variety of thoughts that fell somewhere between excuses and true agreements.

“Second, but only with the clarification that your flesh must be moving against hers at all times you’re touching,” Fang suggested, resting her hand familiarly—almost possessively—on Penny’s still bare lower belly, demonstrating by pushing and stroking her skin in a teasing game of proximity to Penny’s sex as she glanced at her victim and winked, before turning her attention back to the table, her hand lazily circling Penny’s belly and thighs and hips, as Penny froze like a deer in a bulls’-eye lantern, hardly breathing. “I don’t want any teams camping out on her flesh without taking a risk…”

Channah looked torn, but finally shrugged with the grudging suggestion of a smile. “Fine. It’s clever, Miss Fang. A delightful opposition of forces.”

Fang looked down at her victim and observed: “It may not be that much of a risk…. Your girl doesn’t seem to be much of an exhibitionist.”

“We’re working on her,” Rivqah offered spiritedly.

“Then your amendment—or ‘clarification’—is accepted and the stakes, so modified, offered again,” Judas announced, having it seconded and approved as quickly as in the previous round. “That’s what they call a ‘cum bet’ in Hazard.”

“And I supposed,” Fang drawled, “we’d call this little twig here a ‘cum bar’?”

“Precisely!”

Penny, in the arms of two different women, and yet in a counterpoise of her own, managed to look miserable and defiant all at once.

“Any other stakes?” Channah asked.

“Next round, certainly!”

“Then let’s play!”

RULES OF THE CARD GAME THE CHARACTERS ARE PLAYING AVAILABLE HERE. [INSERT LINK]

RM: https://theremainderman.com/stories/07-38a-mans-ruin-succubaean-rules-for-playing-perdition/

DA: https://www.deviantart.com/theremainderman-com/art/07-38A-Man-s-Ruin-Succubaean-Perdition-Rules-1239280264

Literature Section “07-38C Just Some Bad Dirty Fun: Packing and Jacking”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 38 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4417 words—Accompanying Images: 2200-2201, 2237-2240—Published 2025-09-18—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

Stories

07-38B Dicing with Demons: Convened by the Fiends

2025-09-152025-09-15 admin

*2230 07-38B Chthonic Tarot–Medlar & Hellcoin Deck back of cards (Poker*)

*2231 07-38B Chthonic Tarot–Antipope Deck back of cards (Poker)*

*2232 07-38B The Currency of Hell (Hate-Lie-Take-Win coin)*

*2235 07-38B Perdition Tarot–meet your dealer*

CAUTION: Contains themes of gambling marijuana opium spirits and wine some readers may find objectionable

RULES OF THE CARD GAME THE CHARACTERS ARE PLAYING AVAILABLE HERE.

PREVIOUSLY: In the afterglow shared with the other members of their party, Queen Channah admits she wants Húanglóng to help train her jawari, and Húanglóng acknowledges he welcomes the chance to use them. But she would prefer him to train them at her castle under her supervision, and he would prefer to use them around his castle back home. They agree to decide the issue by betting on a game of Tarot. When Penny is upset to find her services anted up into the pot, Channah dares her to raise the stakes and fight for herself. NOW:

Chastity came back into the room looking anxious as she tried to carry stacks of cards cradled awkwardly in her hands and arms without spilling them. By this time, the demons and cambions and qahramanat were chatting gaily, fully-dressed again, and seated—Tiferet behind her easel and the rest of them around the makeshift table—while Penny served them.

“Good work, sweetmeat!” Channah complemented her. “You—both of you—put your dresses back on, then sort out a full deck as best you can and bring it to us when you’re ready.”

“Yes, Domina,” Chas curtsied briefly, smothering her own look of hurt at the suggestion she couldn’t sort a pack of cards, before allowing the cards to tumble onto one of the remaining, unused divans. “Would you like big cards or small ones, Domina?”

“I really can’t fix that,” Húanglóng admitted.

“I know,” Channah rolled her eyes. “Ninnies and prudes. That’s what I get for being such an indulgent Domina.” Then, to Chas: “We’ll want the small ones, dumpling. For playing. Penny, hurry up, finish serving, and help her!” she replied, managing to make her servant feel even worse while answering her question.

Esmeray, looking embarrassed, rose quietly as she could from the demons’ gossip about matters and actors ranging across hell and earth just as Penny reached her sister, who whispered in frustration: “These cards are mad! Would you have known what size–?”

Penny shook her head, setting her hand on Chastity’s shoulder reassuringly. “No, but I don’t know about cards. Do they all have to be the same size? What else are they even meant for? Besides sinning, I mean?” Then, first setting her eyes on the cards themselves, a look of wonder crossed her face. “But they are beautifully printed….” That was such an understatement, she corrected: “If they were even printed….”

In fact, they had more colors and details than any printing the girls had ever seen on any printed material. As far as Penny knew, printing was done with a single color: black, on white. These appeared to be hand-painted and even gilded, each one a treasure in itself. But at the same time, the symbols on the cards showed such perfection and utter uniformity in shape and appearance it was hard to imagine the discipline that would have been required by artisans to produce such consistency.

Esmeray surprised them by joining them, looking upset: “I agree with Húanglóng. You’re both stupid. The cards have to be the same size for shuffling and for keeping others from guessing your cards.” Seeing their expressions, she shrugged. “What? I’ve been serving the demons directly most of my life. If I allow you two stupid whores to frustrate them, they’ll take it out on all of us, sooner or later. Especially since I’m meant to be your trainer, aren’t I? Start thinking about how you make me look!” The girls exchanged an amazed look, for the first time considering that as a human and a qahramanah, Esmeray might share more in common with them, than with the demons. Then, as Esmeray noticed what Chas and Penny were doing—Chas sorting by deck and Penny by size—exasperation was joined by confusion: “At a minimum we need to use the same approach! They need to be sorted by deck and size! How can the same decks contain different-sized cards?”

“What do you mean, ‘deck’?” Penny frowned.

This time, both Esmeray and Chastity looked at her in amazement. “You’re not putting on an act, are you?” Esmeray wondered. “You really haven’t played cards before, have you?” She held up two cards, back facing Penny. “Decks. You can tell by what’s on the back of the cards. All the cards in a deck have to match so others can’t tell what cards you’re holding. So, first, we need to separate by decks into the antipope cards and—whatever these are…” she stuck her tongue out in disgust.

“Antipope?!” Penny’s eyes widened, and she looked like she wanted to drop the cards before they scalded her hands. Even Chas looked startled, to recognize what she meant.

“Let’s discuss basic symbology,” she mocked, holding up one card. “I’m from a Muslim culture where even the Christians aren’t Catholics, and even I recognize it. Triple crown and crossed keys? Pope. Pentagram and goat’s head? Not pope. That’s one set, and it’s the antipope. Put it over here, in different piles by what size they are.” Then, as the girls began following her example, she held up a card from a different deck. “Serican coin and weird flower/sea monster/thing—” Penny didn’t understand the odd emphasis on the word ‘thing,’ but Chas, familiar with the slang term, did.

Chas was surprised by something else. “Saracen money?”

“Not ‘Saracen.’ Which is ignorant and insulting, by the way,” Esmeray pointed out. “‘Serican.’ Eastern. Chinese.”

“I don’t think ‘Serican’ is any more accurate than ‘Saracen,’” Penny began, before seeing Esmeray’s expression and immediately shutting her mouth, finally beginning to realize that as was so often the case, her thoughts were neither welcome nor, in the eyes of her audience, relevant.

“It is her putrid thing!” Esmeray announced in triumph, then clarified: “What is it called, the corrupt fruit? Medlar! Her symbol, the broken-hearted medlar.”

“That’s what it is!” Penny sounded relieved to have an identification, and thus a proper place, for it in her mind.

“Well… kind-of,” Chastity and Esmeray snickered. And Chastity elbowed her good-naturedly. “Virgin.”

“Pseudo-virgin at best, I think,” Esmeray corrected meanly. And then, seeing Penny’s confused expression, holding the card in front of her face and pointing to the sea-monster-rotten-fruit, clarified about the image: “It’s what your sister had her face buried in half an hour ago. Don’t you think?”

Penny turned pink. Apparently she did think.

“Finally, the candle flickers to light,” Esmeray shook her head. “Having met Eleanor and Frances, I can only agree with Her Majesty that you two are ill-prepared for your assigned profession.” And seeing their confusion, she elaborated: “Those two are unshockable and compliant as slaves should be,” she spat. “If you consider yourselves ill-used, wait until you’ve worked with them.” Then she turned her attention back to the cards: “They’re endless. Why does she have so many? Penny—keep sorting by size and deck with me. Chas—start with the smallest cards… the medlar-coin cards, I think, we look to have more of them—and start sorting them by suit.”

“What are ‘suits’?” Penny asked curiously, prompting Esmeray and Chas to look at one another in astonishment.

Their qahramanah explained: “Every card has a shape on it.” She pointed to something that looked not entirely dissimilar from the rotten medlar, without the tendrils or the tear down the middle. “These red shapes are hearts. All the hearts go in one pile. Then the dark-green diamonds go in another pile. And so on.”

Seeing Chas throw different suits in the same pile, Esmeray frowned at her. “What are you doing? I thought you knew something about cards.”

“Getting rid of the extras, Mistress?” she answered uncertainly.

“What ‘extras’?!”

“Diamonds, hearts, clubs, spades. There are four suits, although the colors are wrong. And they’re all scratched.” And then she indicated the pile with the cards that didn’t have one of those four symbols. “Extras!”

“Those aren’t ‘extras,’” she explained, exasperated. “This isn’t France or England. It’s Hell. The deck has nine suits here. The four you’re familiar with, the Triumphs—” she held up a card with a crown that looked suspiciously like a tiara with the same tendrils as the rotten medlar “—and the other regular suits: coins, swords, chalices, and wands. And they’re not scratches; they’re trigrams.”

“Why did they add all these suits?”

“These are actually the old suits. Mamluk decks—Egyptian Mamluks, who are Turkish Muslims,” she added, confusing Chas, but with a trace of loyalty, “introduced you Christian savages to cards, as the Muslim world has introduced you to every form of civilization. These are our suits.”

“Actually, they’re our suits,” a new voice added with contempt, as Hong, accompanied by another stunningly gorgeous Chinese girl, about Esmeray’s age or a bit younger, equally composed and meticulously dressed but with visibly less confidence than Hong, surprised them, slipping in between Penny and Chas and immediately helping to sort cards. Behind the two newcomers, they saw Fang hugging and greeting the other demons. Both girls shifted, obviously affected by the seductive, elegant perfection of Fang’s qahramanat.

“Excuse me?!” Esmeray bristled.

Ignoring her for a moment, Hong introduced her companion: “This is my apprentice, Huifen.” With a no-nonsense look at the two English girls, she clarified: “You will address her as you would address Esmeray and I, and treat her with the same respect.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the girls answered nervously.

“My Domina heard about the wager and insisted we come immediately so she can add Huifen to the bet.” Finally turning her attention back to Esmeray, she smiled patronizingly and explained: “It is the great chain of knowledge. As with all civilization, printing and cards were invented in China. The Anxi and Tianzhu barbarians learned about cards from us, but were too stupid to understand the correct names of the suits, which are Chinese currency. Ignorant of proper money, they confused the strings with clubs, the myriads with cups, and the tens of myriads with wands. I suppose we should be grateful they were at least able to recognize the coins!”

Huifen laughed dutifully and convincingly, revealing her excellent training at the same time as her perfect teeth. Her Arabic was as fluent as all of the other jawari: “One out of four. Not bad for barbarians, I suppose.”

“The Anxi and Tianzhu barbarians then threw the table-scraps remaining after they had tried to digest civilization to the Huanqian animal hides—” her nod towards Esmeray, outraging her, made it clear she was referring to Turks “—who degraded them further, before the gwailou savages—” with a gesture towards the girls, accepting half of Esmeray’s terminology for them “—picked up in amazement the dung deposited in front of them, all that remained of the great civilization, deposited behind the Huanqian.”

Hong looked inordinately pleased with herself for managing to offend everyone at the table besides herself and Huifen by making it clear the Turks and Europeans were regarded as not just barbarians, but second- and third-tier barbarians, respectively.

“If they’re so degraded, why do your masters use them?” Penny asked—almost, but not quite, pulling off a pretended innocent confusion.

Esmeray confessed, smothering a grin rather badly, but better than Chastity: “Princess, I confess I’m not just shocked, but—for the first time yet—find myself actually delighted by your impertinence.”

Penny blushed and bowed her head, focusing intently on the cards, as Hong gave her a glance making it clear Hong was not delighted—if not, quite, entirely unimpressed. “Doubtless that’s why they added the trigrams in. They’re Taoist. Chinese. To make the suits recognizable to civilized people again.” Hong attempted to keep Penny in her place, but spoiled that when she accidentally met Esmeray’s eyes and the two of them exchanged the slightest twitch of amusement. “I too am astonished to hear such insolence from the limp rag doll of a third-rate barbarian tribe,” Hong confessed. “Perhaps I should allow for a bit more from her than I’ve been expecting. What’s gotten into her today?”

“I think she’s stinging. Her Majesty has just now challenged her to prove it at cards if she has any scrap of courage or…” Esmeray frowned.

“‘Yang?’” Huifen suggested, with a judgmental glance at the girls.

“I suppose.”

“Perhaps she does,” Hong conceded. “But the real test will be whether she can show her little horn—if she has one—in front of them.” None of the humans doubted whom she meant.

“We’ll see. Here—do you have a full set of the hearts yet?” Esmeray asked Chas, after enjoying Penny’s withering for only a second or two.

“I should think so,” Huifen answered.

“Why would there be more hearts?” Chas asked, baffled.

“Because they’re Channah’s suit. Well—the suit of the Court of Lust. Of course,” Esmeray frowned as if it were the most-obvious thing ever.

“Her suit?” Chas asked, quickly recognizing a second problem “But why—and even if it were—you need all the suits to play cards, don’t you?”

Hong and Esmeray exchanged an odd look. “Maybe,” Esmeray allowed, and then held her finger up to Penny the instant her mouth began to open. “No! We’re not starting that again!”

“The cards aren’t even numbered,” Chas admitted reluctantly.

“They certainly are. Right by the suits.” Huifen, seated closest to her, pointed.

“That’s not a number. It’s the symbol for Mercury,” Penny protested, then frowned. “Or quicksilver. And I don’t even recognize this—pinwheel—”

“That’s Mara,” Hong and Esmeray answered as one. With a slight bow, Hong deferred to Esmeray, who after all was the girls’ trainer, and Esmeray continued: “They’re all numbers. Mara is nought. Mercury is Cinque. Star is Set. And so on.”

“That doesn’t make any sense—” Penny began, only to be stopped again when Esmeray held up her finger for silence and snapped: “Accept!” before finding, and showing them, the complete set of 14 Hearts.

“Nought… Cinque…” Chas mumbled, as Huifen read them all out in order.

“I’ll just sort the Triumphs, shall I?” Esmeray smirked. “I presume you don’t know those numbers either?”

“No, Mistress,” Chas looked miserable.

“Think of them as Roman numerals. I is 1 and S is 6.”

“This one—the ‘Fool’—doesn’t even have a number. Just a dash,” Penny burst out, pointing to the Fool, before anybody could stop her.

“No, it doesn’t,” Esmeray smiled narrowly. “It’s a wild card. But treat it as a 22.”

Penny, who did not like feeling stupid, struggled to keep her composure. “A ‘wild’ card, Domina?”

“A card that, depending on the game, is given special powers.”

“We should probably teach them the basic rules so they don’t slow down the game,” Hong suggested, demonstrating as she spoke: “It’s a trick-taking game. The starter plays a card and everyone else has to follow suit—this example it’s spades. And the highest-ranked spade played, wins the trick. If a player doesn’t have a spade, but they have a triumph, they have to play it; and the highest trump wins the suit.”

“What if they don’t have a spade or a trump?”

“Then they have to play a card from another suit—even though it can’t possibly win,” Esmeray demonstrated by setting a wand on top of Hong’s spade. “It’s called a throwaway. At the end of the deal, everyone counts up their points. One point per trick plus the value of the cards in their hands. Face cards and Bouts—the Fool, the I, and the XXI of Triumphs—are worth points. Nothing else. The starter and the deal move left.”

Chas frowned. “But surely the starter is the dealer?”

“Not in Perdition. Because only humans can deal.”

“WHAT did you call it?!” Penny asked, shocked.

“I think you heard me,” Hong laughed. “But it’s just a name, silly. Don’t start wringing your hands. But the real fun of the game are—”

At that moment, there was another surge of noise near the door that distracted them all, as Kadidia and Judas entered, with retainers of their own crowding in behind them.

Channah, laughing, told Haruka, who was hovering in the doorway: “Find your fellow gwailou and go secure yourselves in the honeycomb. I’m going to seal the door again in five minutes, not a second longer! And if any of you are still in the Lodge, you’ll regret it!”

“Yes, Domina!” Haruka shouted and bowed, before bolting from the room, already calling at the top of her lungs for the housecleaner.

Judas was clapping, looking pleased. “I love it darling! We’re to have all of Tlalitlen Ichtaka for our Lodge?”

Channah shrugged. “Why not? I certainly don’t want anyone else to come barging in here!” Then she looked over at Esmeray, making an expression of mock-embarrassment: “I don’t quite know how to say this, Esmeray dear, but I’m not quite sure I intended to invite this many people! I hate to ask, but… you’re a bit of a nun, aren’t you?”

Esmeray looked at her quizzically. “I’m not… sure… I’d describe myself that way, Your Majesty. I—”

Channah and most of the other demons laughed—not to wound, to be sure; but not quite respectfully, either. Esmeray, feeling the insult, stiffened and reddened slightly, as Channah clarified: “I’m sorry dear, what I was trying to ask is—you don’t have any… lovers in the room, do you?”

Managing to keep her face almost blank, and continue conversing in a neutral, if slightly flat, tone, she answered: “I prefer my own company, Your Majesty.”

“The girl has obviously never been entertained by me,” Judas rolled his eyes, provoking another wave of laughter among the succubae.

“You’re a lucky beast, aren’t you?” Húanglóng roared genially, grinning at Judas. “I’ve thought it before, I can assure you.”

“Undoubtedly, Your Majesty,” Judas bowed toward the Dragon King, “For which I am eternally grateful. But in what respect…”

Húanglóng laughed loudly. “It’s all I can think about, and you take it for granted: you’re outnumbered by a factor of what, 7-to-1, by females of your kind! I love the camaraderie my Dragon brothers and I enjoy very much, but in matters of love…”

Their byplay was fortuitous, because it distracted everyone from Esmeray’s reaction to Judas’s boastful remark, which would not have flattered him. Penny, observed only by Hong and Chas, reached her hand out towards Esmeray, hesitated, and then with utmost gentleness, patted her reassuringly like he was trying to soothe a baby having a nightmare without waking her up. Even so, she tensed and glanced up sharply before nodding and relaxing again. Penny’s hand was withdrawn before Channah, smiling, turned back towards them and continued addressing her: “If you want to wait with the servants in the Honeycomb, you may. But if you want to stay, it will have to be as part of a team. So you’ll need to at least kiss someone—really kiss them—you could imagine settling into a long-term partnership or co-habitation with—”

Whereupon Esmeray, promptly but without hurrying, surprised Channah, the girls, everyone else, and quite possibly herself, by taking Chas and Penny by the hair and tugging them close enough to her to force her tongue inside each one’s mouth, just for a moment, and touch her lips to theirs, before pulling away, letting go of their hair, and looking at Channah with a combination of defiance and embarrassment while the girls stared at her in astonishment, exactly where she had left them. While the demons laughed and made inappropriate—and to anyone who knew Esmeray, inapplicable—aren’t-they-mushy noises, Esmeray shrugged briefly and explained: “Is that sufficient? If I must choose my society to participate, they’re quite harmless.”

Channah applauded her with an intrigued, impressed look, and with sparkling, questioning eyes that promised future mischief to anyone who knew Channah. “You could imagine a life with them?”

“If they’re respectful and make themselves useful, certainly.”

“But… what of affection? Of sex?”

She thought carefully for a moment, before answering, with cold glances at each shocked, open-mouthed girl: “Because of what they still have between their legs, I would enjoy their misery at being forced to accept their things are nothing but leftover, useless meat that will never defile a woman again.”

The room exploded with applause and whoops of acclimation. “Bravo!” “Hear hear!”

When Channah could speak, she allowed: “Then in answer to your question, that’s enough… for now.” Then, her eyes narrowing dangerously: “And you could refrain from, say, killing your little ginger girl in a fit of… passion?”

A sharp color rose to Esmeray’s cheeks even as her eyebrows rose in startlement. Stumbling a bit, she managed: “Yes, of course, Your Majesty. She—they—mean nothing to me. They—we—are yours.” Penny, wide-eyed and suspicious, watched the interchange, her eyes darting back and forth between them, knowing she was missing something, but not quite sure what it was. With or without understanding, it was unsettling.

“Hong my dear, Chastity is an experienced card player,” something in her tone managing to suggest the exact contrary of her own words. “But I’m not sure Penny even knows what a card is. Can you please make certain she knows how to shuffle before we start?

“I will, Domina,” Hong bowed her head in acknowledgement; and then raised her eyes to make sure Channah had already moved her attention onto the humans who had arrived with Kadidia, instructing them to make sure everyone had plenty of wine and food. Only when she was sure Channah was done with her did she speak quietly to Esmeray. “I think we’d better assemble two decks, don’t you?”

“At least?” she answered uncertainly, pointing and counting heads around the table under her breath.

“As I was saying,” Hong resumed, commanding the girls’ attention, “the real fun comes in the rule changes and the stakes. Here, look at this.” She took some medium-sized cards no one was soting, straightened them up, and split them into two approximately-equal piles, taking each pile in one hand held by her thumb and her ring finger with her index fingers pushing down on the middle of each pile. “See how I’m holding these?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Penny nodded.

“Shuffling is mixing up the cards so nobody knows what order they’re in. You have to keep them face down like this at all times so no one—not you, not anyone else in the Lodge—can see any of the card faces while you shuffle them. I shuffle like this.” She demonstrated. “Do you see?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I’m going to show you again,” she told her. “Watch again.”

Huifen laughed, pressing her fingertips to her mouth as if she were trying to keep them closed.

“You try,” she handed the cards to Penny, who took them awkwardly and began trying to manage them with her hands.

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow to Huifen, who explained: “Penny’s going to be in trouble if they play Pretty Please.”

Hong smiled slyly, reaching forward to help Penny adjust her hands on the cards. She felt Penny tense at her touch, and shift uncomfortably, aware of Hong’s gaze. Only after a long moment did she finally dare to flutter up her azure eyes to meet Hong’s gaze. “Huifen thinks you’re staring at my legs.” Penny turned pink, as if the flap on a bullseye lantern had been pulled aside, and both women laughed at her discomfiture. “That could get you in trouble in the game. Best keep your eyes on the cards, jariya.” But she didn’t adjust her dress or uncross her legs, leaving the high slit on her cheongsam open as it lay, revealing the long, graceful curve of her thigh and even the beginning of her hips, that had gotten little Penny into trouble.

As Penny practiced shuffling, trying to keep her eyes on what she was doing, Channah clapped her hands over hear head, all of them feeling a ripple of—something—passing them, and called loudly: “The door is shut and the Lodge is WHAT?!”

Grinning like fools, all the demons clapped their hands, triggering a much stronger wave that almost had the force of a gust of wind, roaring: “Convened by the fiends!”

“Then let’s throw down!” Channah completed the little ritual as the room erupted with applause.

Several people hollered: “Let the cards fall as they may!”

Húanglóng snorted: “And all you losers get ready to pay!” earning a round of groans and boos as Channah began loudly counting off the players:

“Húanglóng and I have to play, because we already have a bet—it’s the whole reason for this game! And obviously, Fang, Judas, and Kadidia must play, since I accidentally sort-of invited them to do so. Needless to say, my cherished ladies must have seats because they brought Húanglóng and started this whole party! Which means, since it would be rude to leave an odd demon out, it practically goes without saying Tifaret shall make our eighth!”

The demons all burst out laughing, and Hong—also in on the joke, whatever it was—smirked, meeting her companions’ confused eyes before landing her gaze on Penny’s worried one. Hong laughed, briefly, quietly, and just a bit nastily, nodding at Penny to confirm what she suspected.

“Oh dear, that won’t work at all, will it?” Channah lamented, looking concerned. “Tifaret, dear… is there any chance you have any lovers at the table?” The demons and Hong all laughed again. “Soooo…. Let’s see. Kadidia, Judas, and Fang were all thoughtful enough to bring their lovers with them. And my daaaaahling Húanglóng has had the cheek to challenge me for my jawari, so he doesn’t get any teammates.”

Everyone roared as Húanglóng admitted, his voice distorted by a tube in his lips which extended from a gold bulb carved with pornographic images of serpents fornicating with humanoids that caused even Chas’s jaw to drop, let alone Penny’s: “She has a point. And I am confident I will be taking most of your lovers home with me—” everyone razzed him back at the challenge “—so you can play cards with them now, and tonight I’ll play with them however I please.”

The game hadn’t even started yet and it was obvious from the frequency of their drinks and that the newcomers were all making heroic progress catching up with their host’s honeymoon party. Nor did anyone from the honeymoon party seem to be slowing down except Esmeray and Penny. Everyone else was, if anything, speeding up.

“Oh you have to lose, you bastard!” Channah planted a sloppy kiss on him before continuing: “Ooh light one for me, honey? Rivqah and M—”

“Jacob!” Rivqah shouted, leaning close to the King, piling what looked like stems and leaves into a gold bowl that the Dragon King seemed to set alight with a touch of his fingers, before attaching it to a lid with a similar tube to create a bulbed device similar to the King’s.

“Big George!” Miriam shouted at the same time.

Tifaret tried and failed to look offended as she stood up and began walking around toward Channah.

“My dear, you do look a bit familiar. Have we fucked?” Channah asked, as Tifaret bent over her, holding her head a bit impertinently, and made out with her for a moment.

“You and every other player, dahling,” Tifaret drawled, sitting down immediately behind Channah and reaching around her to stroke her nipples through her dress, diverting one hand to hijack the gold dragon bong meant for Channah.

“Jacob!” Rivqah called, snapping her finger peremptorily and gesturing behind her as she nodded at Tifaret. “Mind Tifaret closely, get over here, and follow her excellent example!”

“George!” Miriam cried, pronouncing it “Jo-warj!”, raising her arm and pointing behind her. “You heard her!”

Everyone not already seated at the table began moving behind their players except the suddenly-isolated Esmeray and her jawari. “Shit!” Chas cursed under her breath, realizing what Penny and Esmeray had already figured out.

Purring from Tifaret’s attentions, Channah mock-gasped: “Look there! We have an empty seat! And a good thing, too, because we need a dealer, don’t we?”

“So forgetful lovahgirl,” Tifaret nuzzled the back of her neck.

Penny drew a deep breath, set her jaw, and rose, heading grimly toward the table, her nostrils twitching as she caught the faint tendrils of the incense rising from the gold bulbs being passed around the table. It was at once floral, faintly sweet, smoky, and rancid. The others, as they caught sight of her approaching before being called, whooped and clapped.

Judas mocked: “She’s as cocky as a rooster! And here you led me to believe she was meek and mild and knew her place!”

“I’m sure it’s the wine,” Channah suggested. “You’re not the only human here, Princess. What makes you think that seat is for you?”

Penny paused behind the empty spot, Fang to her left and Kadidia to her right, without answering or even looking at Channah, and the entire table erupted again. Hong briefly and quietly placed her hand on Penny’s back, surprising her, imitating the gesture she had seen Penny give Esmeray before.

“Oh, of course it’s your place, sweetie—stop pouting and sit!” Channah gestured for her to sit. “You should be honored! Your qahramanah could have kissed anyone here and I’m sure they would have let her, but she chose you!”

“I am grateful,” Penny responded honestly. “And I’m sorry, qahramanah—”

“I knew what I was doing,” Esmeray answered her quietly, sitting down on one of the benches behind Penny. “You’re my jawari. I’m your qahramanah. Who else was I going to pick?”

“And Chas honey, I could pretend I was about to offer you a choice—” Channah paused until the ripple of laughter quieted back down “—but first of all, somebody has to add some cheer to that… pocket of dourness—” she gestured at Esmeray and Penny “and second, you brought Penny kicking and screaming into this game, so you kind of owe it to her to stick with her and help her,” Channah pointed out, as Penny regarded her sister in accusing agreement and Chas looked stricken.

“I’m sorry, Penny. It seemed like such a fun idea!” Chastity apologized.

“It always does,” Miriam agreed.

“I really thought you’d enjoy it…” Chas continued.

“We’ve all been there!” Judas shook his head ruefully, provoking more laughter.

Literature Section “07-38B Dicing with Demons: Convened by the Fiends”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 38 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4970 words—Accompanying Images: 2230-2232, 2234-2236—Published 2025-09-15—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

Stories

07-38A Man’s Ruin: Succubaean Rules for Playing Perdition

2025-09-082025-09-15 admin

*2228 07-38 Chthonic Tarot–Suit Names & Symbols*

*2197 07-38 You know you’re born to lose and gambling’s for fools and that’s the way I like it, baby*

*2199 07-38 I’m not cheating. MY hands are both up here*

IT IS RECOMMENDED TO WAIT UNTIL 07-38B IS PUBLISHED; THEN QUICKLY SKIM THROUGH THIS. WHEN YOU READ 07-39B YOU CAN LEAVE 07-38A OPEN FOR REFERENCE IN ANOTHER BROWSER WINDOW.

Hong explains the Succubaean Rules of Perdition to Esmeray and her jawari as follows:

BASIC RULES

Deck—Uses the Chthonic Tarot, aka The Infernal Tarot. For playing (not divining) purposes, it is essentially a standard Tarot deck with 3 changes:
- Face cards reordered to put women on top (KingsQueensCavaliersJacks to QKJC);
- More regular cards (8 standard suits instead of 4);
- Renumbering and renaming: pip cards shifted by 1, from 1-10 to 0-9; face cards renamed QPharaoh, KHuángdì, JSultanah, and CRajah; and trump card numbering changed from base-10 (decimal) to base-6 (senary).

Only suits and ranks are relevant to play. As in the Sixteenth Century, Pharaohs are high and naughts are low. “The Bouts” are 3 special trump cards: the Fool, I, and SSSIII.

Object—Win each trick, hand, and game. Pharaohs and Bouts 4 points; Huángdìs 3 points; Sultanahs 2 points; Rajahs and each trick won, 1 point; other cards 0.
Teams—2 to 8 (or more if you can find the cards), comprised of one player (mandatory) and their lovers (optional). The teams agree ahead-of-time whose consent is required to bind their team.
Lodge—Team members must be present (“resident”) in the lodge (a physical space, not a banker). No one else is allowed inside, and no one can enter or leave during the game.
Duration—The game starts once the number of deals is agreed, and lasts until all stakes have been delivered and everyone is sober (unless all teams agree to stop earlier)
Caste—Every resident is equal in the game, except only humans can shuffle, cut, or deal; it is bad form for high-caste residents to stake lower-caste teammates disproportionately
Stakes—Each team must agree on new stakes binding through the end of the game, before each deal. Stakes binding every team alike are encouraged, but each team need only agree to stakes that put at least one of their members at risk from at least one other team. Teams encouraged but not required to lay stakes each deal that are dependent on a per-trick, per-deal, and per-game basis
First Deal
- The dealer and starter determined separately and randomly; player to left of starter cuts. Dealer deals out all cards with remainder to the starter, who can discard and replace any from her hand except she cannot discard the Pharaohs or Bouts.
- Starter places a suit card on the table. No one can lead a Triumph card until one has been played.
- Each player (moving counterclockwise) must follow with one card of that suit. Highest card of the lead suit wins
- Players who cannot follow suit and have a Triumph, must play a Triumph. Whenever a Triumph is played, the highest Triumph always takes the trick.
- Players who cannot follow suit or play a Trump must play a throwaway card
- Trick winner keeps the cards face-down and leads the next trick. Trick losers deliver stakes.
- Teams tally their scores; deal losers deliver their stakes.
Successive Deals—Teams agree on modifications to the basic rules. Modifications are strongly encouraged every turn. The deal and the start separately move counter-clockwise to the next eligible human and player, respectively.

CHANNAH’S FAVORITE RULE MODIFICATIONS AND VARIANTS

Players are encouraged to modify rules in as disruptive and confusing a pattern as possible to force the maximum number of player errors.

Dragon King—Once this variant is agreed upon, the starter of each deal (starting immediately) can unilaterally change and add rules at the beginning of each deal.
Queen Channah—Once this variant is agreed upon, the starter of each deal (starting immediately) can unilaterally add per-trick, per-deal, and per-game stakes and stakes at the beginning of each deal, if and only if the stakes apply to each resident equally and all residents can fully discharge their stakes before leaving the lodge without suffering an injury greater than normal wear and tear; e.g., nicks and bruises are okay but not much more, and the maximum amount of money at stake cannot be greater than the amount held inside the lodge by the resident with the least money.
Playing the Fool—The Fool can be played once. It cannot win a trick, but the playing team keeps it and its points; except if that team wins no tricks, the points go to the trick winner.
- The Excuse—When playing the Fool, the player must make an excuse for their behavior before letting go of the card, or it goes to the trick winner
- Use Me or Lose Me—If the Fool is played in any of the last three rounds, the winner of the trick gets the points for it.
Avenging Angel—Judgment SSSII takes World SSSIII
The Joker—10 point bonus if the Magician takes the last hand.
See Something Say Something—Special per-event stakes are agreed for every time a resident misses a cue, is slow to respond to a cue, or responds in error. Teams are encouraged to require a different language for each verbal response. Suggestions:
- Royal Stooge—Whenever an off-suit face card is played on a Pharaoh or Huángdì of the lead suit, everyone except the off-suit-card-player shouts “Treason!”
- Laughing Boy—When the Rajah of Diamonds is played (or otherwise becomes visible), everyone has to laugh heartily.
- Fuck the Pope—Whenever IIIII-The High Priest is played, before the player releases it, either that player or one of their lovers (but only one person) must mutter a barely-discernable curse or disparagement of a specific religious leader.
- Johnny Sausage—If any player tries to play I-Magician, and another player can be the first to shout “Johnny Sausage!” (or “Gimmee Hanswurst!”) before the card is positioned and the player has released it, the shouter captures the Magician and the right to play it without interference later in the same hand, and the person losing the Magician has to play a different card instead. The shouter gets the points for it.
- Hail Channah—Before letting go of their card, anyone playing the Pharaoh of Hearts or the Pharaoh of Spades has to recite lengthy sycophantic praise for, or pine graphically and at length for, the Queen of Lust, e.g., “Hail Channah, the baddest bitch of them all, Hell lies at your perfect feet. Cursed art thou among demons, and cursed is the foul medlar of thy womb, Lust. Unholy Channah, Queen of Hell, chastise all men for their lust, now and after their deaths.” Players are encouraged to prohibit reusing sycophantic phrasing.
French Scoring—Each player’s score is adjusted based on the number of Bouts they have at the end of the deal. Where Z = the number of players in the game, players with 0 Bouts subtract 4+Z from their final score; players with 1 Bout subtract (4+Z)/2; players with 2 add (4+Z)/2; and players with all 3 add 4+Z.
Fitty Piece—Whenever a player plays an off-suit (throwaway) card, any or all of their own lover(s) may (but need not) call “gimmee fitty bitch!” Without affecting any other stakes or teams, i.e., in addition to the normal operation of the game, the team forfeits the game, but each “Judas” wins triple the trick and game stakes riding on that trick, from the player, regardless of whether that player agreed to all the riding stakes or not.
Repent at Leisure—Any resident who catches another player staring at them or any of their team mates (except if they are watching a player who is actively taking their turn) may require the starer to disclose what—other than the game—was foremost in their mind at that moment, and then prescribe a 2-5 word phrase describing their thought(s) every time they play for the rest of the game.
- Pretty Please—If the thought involves another resident, the player (called a “beggar”) has to ask that resident to help them every time they say it. The resident is under no obligation to agree, but if they do, the beggar cannot refuse their help, with any reasonable accommodation they request.
Jeannerie—Pip-card order remains unchanged for the phallic suits (Wands, Clubs, Spades, Swords = PHSR9876543210 or QKJC1098765432A), but changes for the distaff suits (Cups, Hearts, Diamonds, Coins = PS0123456789RH or QJA2345678910CK).
Secret Admirer—In any game with 5+3x players the starter may name the Pharaohs of 1+x suits before seeing the leftover cards. Any person holding a named Pharaoh becomes the secret partner of the starter (meaning no one can signal to any member of any other team, whether they are or are not partners, except by what their card plays reveal).
- Palace Intrigue—Combine Secret Admirer with Fitty Piece.
- Berserker—If the starter names only Pharaohs already in her own hand, she gets triple points for winning that deal.
Succubaean Wedding—Before the first card is played, a player holding the Pharaoh and Huángdì of Hearts/Spades may show them to the other players and declare a sweet/spicy marriage. Each marriage adds 5 times the number of players to its holder’s score.
- Queen of Spades—When a team with a spicy marriage plays their Pharaoh, the first team to (legally) play any Rajah on top of her wins that trick and the points for the spicy marriage. For the rest of the game, the rank order of all the phallic suits (Wands, Clubs, Spades, Swords) changes to RPS0123456789H (or CQJA2345678910K). Point values do not change.
  - Helmet QoS—As Queen of Spades, but any player with at least two distaff (Cups, Hearts, Diamonds, Coins) Pharaohs still in their hand and/or in their pile of tricks may slap a Rajah placed on top of a married Pharaoh and shout “Helmet!” or “Respect!”, then show their Pharaohs to the other players. The first player to do this wins the trick and the spicy marriage points instead of the Rajah player. For the rest of the game, the rank order of all phallic suits (Wands, Clubs, Spades, Swords) changes to PS0123456789RH (or QJA2345678910CK).
- Cuck the King—Same as Queen of Spades, except that playing any Rajah, the Devil, or the Sun on top of either married Pharaoh transfers the points for their marriage and that trick; and for the remaining deals, marriage points are replaced by cuckoldress points for holding a Pharaoh of Hearts or Spades.
  - Helmet CtK—As Cuck the King, but any player with at least two distaff (Cups, Hearts, Diamonds, Coins) Pharaohs in their hand and/or in their pile of tricks may slap a Rajah, Devil, or Sun placed on top of a married Pharaoh and shout “Helmet!” or “Respect!”, then show their Pharaohs to the other players. The first player to do this wins the trick and the spicy marriage points instead of the Rajah player. For the rest of the game, the rank order of all phallic suits (Wands, Clubs, Spades, Swords) changes to PS0123456789RH (or QJA2345678910CK).
- JollyRajah—Same as Succubaean Wedding, except that it is players with Pharaoh-Rajah combinations in Hearts and Spades who can earn points for declaring sweet and spicy marriages; and the rank order of all regular suits is PRS012345678H (or QCJA2345678910K). Rajahs earn 3 points and Huángdìs earn 1.
Húanglóng’s Inguinal Hernia—The following wild cards have the following powers:

Card	Description	Name	Translation
S ♠️	beats everything	Karnöffel*	Inguinal Hernia
7 ♠️	beats everyting but S of ♠️ IFF led to a trick. It may not be played to start	Teufel; Böse 7	Devil; Naughty 7
6 ♠️	beats everything but S, 7 of ♠️	Papst*	Pope
2 ♠️	beats everything but S, 6-7 of ♠️	Kaiser*	Emperor
3 ♠️	beats everything but S, A, 6-7 of ♠️ & P of any suit	Barde	Bard
4 ♠️	beats everything but S, A, 3, 6-7 of ♠️ & P, H of any suit	Herzog	Duke
5 ♠️	beats everything but S, A, 3-4, 6-7 of ♠️ & P, H, C of any suit	Ritter	Knight

*aka Pharaoh-beaters (Pharaonentecher)

Literature Section “07-38A Man’s Ruin: Succubaean Rules for Playing Perdition”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 38 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—1995 words—Accompanying Images: 2197-2199, 2228-2229, 2233—Published 2025-09-08—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

Stories

07-37 Dirty, Unholy Bets and Bargains

2025-09-022025-09-02 admin

*2208 07-37 “To Serve Man?” (gwailou Sakura-Haruka-Asuka)*

(a few German expletives and other words mentioned, are defined after the text)

PREVIOUSLY: As a honeymoon gift, Queen Channah’s husband, friends, lovers, and wives have just pleasured her, and are now cuddling around her—or in Penny’s case, under her—sharing the afterglow. NOW:

No one spoke, or even moved, except Chastity and Penny, who had not been told they could stop soothing and honoring their Domina.

“Mmm… you girls’ lips are so soft, your kisses so tender…” Channah murmured. “You can sooth me with your hands as well,” she allowed, shivering as the girls’ gentle fingers joined their mouths, trailing tenderly over Channah’s legs and hips and waist as best they could in shackles. “Mmmm…. Gentler, silly girl,” she drawled, petting Chastity’s hair. “Softer… don’t even brush against me, just roll your face and tongue back and forth, changing the pressure without any friction…. What a lovely way to rest… although generally, I don’t allow girls with mouths as dirty as yours on me.”

“You allow your girls to be dirty?!” Húanglóng protested, trying unconvincingly to sound outraged, but it coming out closer to a luxuriant yawn.

“Oh, Lillith and Cain!” Rivqah hooted.

“Sooo dirty!” Miriam agreed.

“The filithiest foxes in the land!” Rivqah clarified.

“We are?!” Penny asked, sounding so genuinely and innocently shocked and scandalized by the notion everyone around her erupted in laughter.

“Of course not, darling,” Channah purred, snaking her other hand down to stroke Penny’s hair as well as she could from her position, as soothingly as she was Chastity’s. “I just meant I watched both of you shamelessly letting our First Husband step all over your tongues and faces with his big dirty feet. You girls are still my little sugar bears.” Then she giggled teasingly: “Now hush your sweet, dirty mouth and keep sucking the scum out of my bum.”

The demons and cambions erupted in laughter while Penny’s forehead—the only part of her face anyone could see—managed to turn bright red, and she tried to move as she protested, sounding badly hurt: “I didn’t—Domina! I—”

“And don’t you dare stop!” Channah quickly amended, tugging a fistful of Penny’s hair for emphasis, then moving her hands up to run along the outside of Penny’s thighs and hips. “We can’t have you getting distracted.”

“The poor girl probably can’t even breathe,” Húanglóng opined.

“What are you suggesting?!” Channah demanded lazily, trying to sound upset, and failing.

“Just that she’s a little slip of a thing, lovergirl,” Miriam assured her, giggling and touching her arm.

Húanglóng roared: “That, and you’re a gorgeous, spectacular prize cow, my voluptuous love!”

“Fucker!” Channah feigned outrage, laughing deep in her throat but not moving an inch. “You’re lucky she’s taking such sweet care of me, you bastard, and I can’t be bothered with you right now. But I’ll make you regret it.”

“How?” he scoffed, challengingly, leaning forward resting a hand on Chastity’s back to support himself, to kiss Channah’s knee.

“Oh, I’ll think of a way,” she vowed languorously, before addressing Penny: “Darling Pleaser, I think we may have identified another little specialty of yours.”

“68? Or analingus?” Rivqah asked, exchanging an amused glance with Miriam.

“Both. And she’s so much softer now,” Channah giggled. “They’re both just perfect now! I’m afraid my little vacuum mattress is going to have to get used to breathing with my voluptuous… generous…” (the three demons laughed uproariously, while their cambions and cattle remained carefully neutral) “body covering her like a blanket.”

“I don’t know what either of those is,” George admitted, embarrassed.

“What, a vacuum or a mattress?” Rivqah asked snarkily.

“No, Mistress,” George looked stricken. “The other—68 and… what?!”

“Oh, Channah my love,” Húanglóng scoffed, lifting her leg and kissing his way down her calf. “You’ve obviously been neglecting the education of my wyrmling!”

“He didn’t even manifest as a cambion until a few days ago!” Channah pointed out.

“We thought he was just a dumb carpenter!” Rivqah interjected, drawing a pinch and a glare from Húanglóng:

“Bad succubus!”

“Oh yes,” she assured him.

“You should let me take him to Lytos, and show him a bit of his Dragon heritage!”

Channah laughed caustically: “You’re kidding! He’s my carpenter! And he’s actually reasonably diligent! The last thing I want him to learn about is his ‘heritage’ of apathy and idleness!”

Rivqah, Miriam, and Jacob all roared with genuine, slightly-surprised laughter.

“Chastity, honey, you’re doing marvelously, but what I really need right now is a pillow for my head and Penny’s legs are starting to shake from supporting me. Come up here, face down, and slide back until your little cage klinks against Penny’s to be my little double pillow. Perfect!”

Jacob rolled over onto his stomach as well, and backed up toward Chastity. Seeing Miriam’s and Rivqah’s inquiring look, he grumbled defensively: “What?! I outrank them, at least! No need for her mouth to go to waste!”

“You’re lucky you’re so big,” Miriam allowed, letting it go with an amused glance at Rivqah.

“I’m serious!” Húanglóng complained. “I have great affection for all my little spawn. And he’s yours—no question about it, I can’t even visit him on Earth, let alone train him. I’m glad he’s in your care! But you brought him to hell; why not let him see what he’s made of?!”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Channah responded, provoking another round of laughter from the succubae.

“I mean this!” he insisted. “And, honestly, I could use a good carpenter…”

“I’m sure you could use anyone capable of an honest day’s labor around your broke-down, lotus-eating—” the succubae were all laughing so hard she couldn’t even finish her sentence, ignoring his continuing protests. “Besides, I’m still trying to get pissed off at you for calling me fat!” she groaned torpidly, amusing her sisters further. “The last thing I’m in the mood for, is doing you any favors!”

“But darling that’s perfect,” he paused in his attentions and sat up, raising his hands in exasperation. “I’d be the one doing you a favor! Let me take this one, and the two sows, back to Lytos with me for a few days, actually, or a week or two would be even better—for your benefit, I mean—and I’ll have them as docile and eager to please as a handmaiden’s lapdog!”

“Are you kidding?!” Channah cried, scrambling up to a sitting position to face a surprised Húanglóng and pretending not to notice Penny making muffled noises and struggling for breath under her, and pretending not to notice her handmaidens’ amusement. “Do you think I don’t notice how obsessed you, and all the ambassadors and visitors from the other Courts are, with our operatives? Especially my jawari?! Most of them haven’t had a chance to play, physically, with a live human for—centuries! Don’t try to pretend you’d be doing me a favor!”

“Come now!” Húanglóng raised his hands, whether in protest or self-defense was not entirely clear, slipping into a mixture of English and German without intending to: “Part of your ladies’ entreaties to get me here was their concern about your little arschkriecher there being too big for her panties and too good for pederasty! I’ll overcome her little quibbles.”

Finally relenting towards her slave-wife, Channah rose up on her knees long enough for Penny to scramble out from under her, dizzy and panting like a winded puppy. Channah rolled her eyes and tried not to smirk too obviously at her little bunny’s distress as she shook her head. “You idle girls can make yourselves useful by refilling everyone’s’ glasses.” Then she returned her attention to her husband. “Unfortunately, I knew I would need expertise in canon law and she was the obvious choice. So I let the priests keep her too long. Hell, technically they still have her.”

Húanglóng looked skeptical. “Wait. Priests? I’d have thought they’d lay the groundwork for you—”

She waved a hand dismissively, knowing immediately where he was going. “Unfortunately, out of all the parish schools and colleges in England, she managed to find her way to the few devout ones. Besides—your ‘rationale’ is also obviously defective because it fails to explain what you can offer me for sweet Chastity here,” she observed, fondly pulling both her girls into her sides and petting their heads. Without letting their mouths anywhere near her face.

“She’s an idiot!” Húanglóng shrugged, as if it were obvious.

“Your magical powers can fix stupid?!” Channah demanded skeptically. Both of them ignored the expressions of betrayal and hurt on the girls’ faces as they discussed them.

“Not directly,” Húanglóng admitted, showing only a minimal amount of discomfiture. “But I expect Georgie and I can smooth over both their edges—”

“Ha!” Channah exclaimed, trying to look more indignant than she felt. Revealing her demonic spirit or essence, of whatever nature it was, by omission of any plea to his affections, she simply protested: “You can do everything you’re suggesting by staying here with me for a couple of weeks. And it would do you good, besides! To be surrounded by a more-vigorous environment.” Gently teasing him, she followed his unintentional lead in mixing languages: “You could even send a few of your Runde, Pumpel Drachenherzöge along for us to help invigorate.”

“Hear hear! We like that idea!” Miriam laughed.

“Actually,” Rivqah clarified, also following suit, “as long as they bring their Drachenpenisse, they can leave their herzöge behind in the Hell of Sloth!”

Looking mildly irritated, he retorted: “If the two of you graced us with your presence there again and made the invitation yourselves, I feel certain you could persuade any number of my valiant vassals to come assist you!”

“You will not be taking my Sukkubus-Prinzessinnen to Drachenland as if they were your—your… common drabs, Herr Drachenführer!“ She pounded her fist on the cushion beside her to pretend and emphasize her pretended seriousness. Despite her valiant efforts, she was ultimately unsuccessful in concealing her amusement. “Get me a fresh glass, sweetie,” she nodded toward Penny before turning her attention back to her husband, who was continuing:

“That would be all well and good except for one thing, my Queen!” The Dragon King looked at her significantly.

“What?!” she asked with exaggerated exasperation, looking only slightly uncertain since she didn’t know what he was referring to. Even as minor as it was, it was unusual enough for her to be attention-getting.

“You married me first, mein Drachenführerin!” He raised his finger so everyone would realize his was an important point, and more importantly that he was now consciously playing the bilingual game they had started. Like Channah before him, he completely failed to hide his amusement, and thus to persuade anyone of his righteous anger. “Which makes you the Sukkubus-Drachenkönigin of Lust and Sloth. Which makes them the Sukkubus-Drachenprinzessinnen of Sloth and Lust!”

“Scheiss die Wand an!” She cursed, slapping both her hands emphatically down on the cushions to her sides and just giving up, bursting out laughing and shaking her head as her husband, unnecessarily at this point, spelled it out:

“Which means I have every bit as much right to order them around as you do! And which, by the way, makes Lytus their homes, just as much as Sodom!”

“Sademtsaowah these days, my darling gelbe Zuckerschlange,” she cooed sweetly, leaning forward, unable to resist kissing her husband as they laughed and hugged one another.

Rivqah looked at Miriam and deadpanned: “I feel sick. I’m going to have to Die Wand anschreien.” Then she noticed Penny standing stock-still beside her, her face white, hands frozen on the verge of refilling Rivqah’s wine-glass. “What are you stopping for, mein Schätzchen?” she challenged, slapping her bottom to get her attention.

Penny shook her head to clear it and returned Rivqah’s gaze, saying—or perhaps asking: “I’m a… what? A succubus-dragon-princess of Hell?!” And then, still ashen-faced, she shook her head again. “That’ can’t be. I’m a priest!”

“Not. Any. More, I think it’s safe to say,” Miriam suggested, as the room dissolved in laughter.

Chastity, the only other person in the room not showing any amusement, managed: “I thought ‘princess’ was just a nickname, like—‘prissy.’”

“Oh, it was, darling,” Channah assured her. “And it still is.” She shrugged. “But it also happens to be true.”

“I thought I was a slave,” Penny frowned.

“Of course you are, Zuckerbär, don’t get all excited,” Channah confirmed patronizingly, making a dismissive gesture. “And—” she glared at her husband. “Even more importantly—You’re my slave and mine alone. Demon-human marriages are always left-handed.”

“As it turns out,” Rivqah raised her eyebrows, staring with pleasure into Penny’s lost eyes even as she dug her fingernails into Penny’s soft bottom to ensure she had the girl’s full attention. “Selling your soul isn’t as glamorous as devils try to make it sound.”

“But it does sound better, doesn’t it darling? Now keep pouring, slave-princess!” Channah rejoined, rubbing it in, before returning her lips and her hands and her attention back to her husband, managing to pout as she nibbled on his lower lip and stroked his manhood. “Mm… I really could use your help here a few days, honey… surely now that you’re already here, it’s just as easy for you to stay, as it would be for you to go back home?”

“Witch,” he replied, admitting—as his body already had: “You’re quite persuasive, darling. But then… so am I,” he observed, touching her back and watching her instantly relax, humming with contentment.

“You are, baby…. I don’t know which of us is going to win this argument…. But I wager we’re going to enjoy having it!”

“Now I want to argue!” Miriam announced, apropos of nothing.

“Me too,” Jacob admitted.

Suddenly Channah gasped, pulling back from her husband and looking into his eyes with excitement and definite calculation. “Daaarrrliiinnnggg…. Because, I’m concerned you’re going to persist in suggesting our marital status creates some kind of question about my chattel….”

“Uh-oh.” Húanglóng swallowed.

“I have the best idea.” She snatched her new glass of wine from Penny and took an excited sip, while Chastity was serving Húanglóng.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” he allowed, looking at her with an expression that was both intrigued and calculating.

“Sweet darling little Chastity was just begging me to play some games earlier…. Why don’t we make it a bet?”

“Oh! I’m listening!” Húanglóng was suddenly entirely interested in whatever she was going to say.

“Let’s play tarot for it! We’ve got everything we need… cards in the parlor” she pointed one perfectly-manicured long fingernail toward the parlor, and then managed to indicate both girls at once without setting down her glass “and pets right here.” Penny and Chastity exchanged a nervous glance, but apparently didn’t think this was the right occasion to ask what she meant. “We can make a side-bet,” she proposed, returning her free hand to the yellow dragon while she took another sip of the spiked wine.

“If I win,” the Dragon King began, “what do I get? I want your jawari, their qahramanah, and my dragonling for a week—a fortnight!” he amended hastily.

“Oh-ho! You greedy greedy serpent!” Clearly she was being emphatic deliberately, but there was no indication she wasn’t as surprised and affronted as she acted. “Greedy yellow dragon…” she crooned, then made a mock hissing sound and flickered her tongue at him. “First off, if we make this bet in the first place, you agree you have absolutely no claim to any part of them, or anyone else I marry, ever, and you won’t make any claims or suggestions to anyone, most importantly me, about it. Obviously, you’ll be first-husband and they’ll have to show you the respect my lord deserves…. Everything about our marital relations—and theirs—will be as we already agreed in our marital contract. But you’ll agree with me that nothing about the marital interest will disturb my property interest in them, or limit the property provisions of our marriage contract in any way in relation to marital objects. That’s not part of the bet, that’s a condition for my agreeing to make the bet in the first place! And by the way, I hope you don’t think I’m listening to your big, aggressive fingers down there in connection with our negotiation. My reaction to them is totally separate!”

“And I hope you don’t imagine your skilled, elegant… er… gently rounded fingers down there are negotiating with me, either! But I understand your condition on making the bet—and if you sweeten the bet itself enough, I can live with that so far as it goes.”

“Before we talk about my sweet hotpot,” she purred: “If you win more tricks than me—you get the services of these two jawari only, and this one qahramanah only, and my English carpenter George Manning, for exactly one week,” she bargained. “No… Jacob is an arrogant little prick and he practically begged me to be mean to him, so I’ll throw in Jacob too, on the same conditions. But with no one and nothing else. Not even a snail from my garden or a stich of my clothing or jewelry! Not even a Persian rock candy to freshen their breath or a bag of dates to sweeten your coffee with!” She paused for a second, staring intently into her husband’s eyes, almost as if she were done, before continuing: “And you have to keep them chained in your palace at—”

“Ah ah!” The dragon interrupted his wife, shaking his head and responding to her without either of them paying any mind or attention to what was going on among the others.

Miriam and Rivqah were exchanging another merry-eyed smirk, enjoying watching the reactions of the human (and cambion) bargaining chips as they stood around—or in the case of the girls, served drinks—listening to themselves being haggled over like a horse ride on an old nag. “This one’s not turned on,” Rivqah observed, checking Penny’s condition and reporting her findings in a stage-whisper. “I think her wittle feelings are hurt!”

“Same with this one!” Miriam agreed after tugging Chastity closer to her and checking. “She may even be pouting a wittle!” Miriam made a mock-sad-face, rocking with her silent amusement. “And the qahramanah and the stud both, er… what’s the phrase? Im Kreis kotzen.”

Rivqah covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud: “Der große Drachenarschgeige just looks baffled.”

Miriam bit her own knuckle to keep silent, while the two royals continued to ignore their exchange completely.

Húanglóng was shaking his head firmly. “No ma’am. No way. Do it right. If I get to play with your toys, it’s with no restrictions, no strings whatsoever on my use of any of them. If I win—or, at least, win more tricks than you—then I get them with title for a week and no restrictions of any kind.”

“No, sir,” she shook her head firmly. “There’s one very important condition I won’t compromise on: You have to return them in good condition. At least as good as the condition you received them!”

“Subject to normal wear and tear,” the King qualified. “I’m not going to baby them or handle them with kid gloves!”

“Fine!” she snapped. “Is that all?!”

“Well, that depends on what you want?”

Looking happier to be discussing this subject, Channah answered immediately, as if she’d known what she had in mind all along: “I want you, and two of your best vassals—their selection being subject to my veto—to spend exactly one week at Sademtsaowah using every ounce of your persuasive powers training every single jariya I can spare from their duties and lay my hands on!”

“OH no… you want three dragons? Three full dragons? For the same length of time you’re offering a handful of cambions and livestock?! That’s a grossly unfair proposal! You can have me for five days, or the three of us for three days!”

“I agree with you,” Channah nodded surprisingly, making a placating gesture. “Obviously, darling, you’re my number-one love-bunny, husband, and king! Your time is more precious to me than anyone else’s, even my darling shu-wives. But I also know the prospect of having all my available, living, juicy, human—uh, did I mention alive?!—jawari at your disposal for a full week is so appealing, you’ll have to keep your own vassals from murdering one another for the privilege. And,” she concluded, triumphantly: “I’ll bet you’re actually terrified I’ll relent and agree to the shorter period you just demanded—aren’t you?” And when she found what she expected in his eyes, she clapped excitedly and laughed. “I knew it! All men are whores!”

“Of every species!” Miriam and Rivqah agreed simultaneously, saluting one another, taking a deep draught, and laughing.

“Of every species,” Channah agreed, following their lead down to taking adrink. “Even our dear, sweet incubi.”

“Especially your damned incubi!” the King charged, making the succubae whoop and agree.

“Also, my dear,” Channah continued, “you and I both know that in the exceedingly-unlikely event you win, I’m going to be absolutely furious! Whereas you—” she spread her hands as if it were self-evident.

“What?!” he challenged.

She crossed her arms and raised her chin defiantly. “You’re standing in front of me right now wondering whether you want to win this bet or if you’re better off losing it. Aren’t you?”

The mighty dragon king puffed up his chest and stretched to his full height, as if to intimidate his wife… and then threw up his hands in surrender, deflating like a punctured bladder. “Ohne Scheiss! Fine. You have a deal! Done!”

“Done!” Channah immediately responded, laughing as they shook hands, the gesture just formal and stylized enough even Penny and Chastity could tell it was a binding commitment they both took seriously. Notwithstanding the fact Channah leaned forward over their still-clasped hands for another kiss and giggle.

Turning away, Channah’s eyes fell on Penny’s angry red face and she came up short, laughing in genuine surprise: “What is wrong with you, my little lapdog?!”

“You—you—”

“Domina!” she reminded her sharply, a pleased smirk creeping into the corners of her mouth when Penny started over:

“Domina, you—you just—bargained us away like—like—”

“Chattel?” she suggested, quite consciously and deliberately returning Penny’s reckless, impulsive, unintended stare. And she burst out laughing again when Penny looked flummoxed and even more furious.

“Hellooo! Welcome to the club, Arschkriecher!” Jacob sneered caustically. “Where have you been? Maybe this one’s the bimbo!”

“But Domina—” emotions chased one another across Penny’s face, none of them easing her tense—and intense—stance. Then, softly, but if anything, with greater intensity than before: “I love you!”

“Awww…. That’s so sweet. I want to kiss you.” She sat down on the edge of the bench cushions. “But not just yet.” Seizing Penny’s hair and wrapping it around her fist, she commanded: “Open wide and lean back!” As she did so, she held out one hand toward Miriam and used the other to pull Penny gently but steadily back by the hair until she fell to her knees with her head face up on Channah’s thigh, her mouth obediently open. Miriam handed Channah a rag and a bottle of clear spirits and Channah raised these a few inches above Penny’s lips to keep the bottle clean before tipping it over. “I think by now, you know what this is going to feel like, so I don’t want any histrionics. I expect you to be a big girl and swish it around for at least one minute before you swallow it!” And with that, she poured about half a jigger’s worth into Penny’s mouth, pausing when Penny’s eyes shot open and started watering and Penny snapped her mouth shut. “Pathetic, baby, but just barely adequate as long as you do not swallow. Yet. Swish. Swish!” she repeated, as she let go of Penny’s hair and poured more clear spirits onto the rag, then began scrubbing Penny’s face vigorously, with special attention around her lips. “That-a-girl! Open wide again as soon as you swallow and I’m going to give you more since that first sip was so tiny—good girl!” she cooed, pouring again as Penny, hesitantly, with a tense expression, forced her lips slightly apart, smiling with a cruel satisfaction as she saw how hard Penny had had to struggle to do as she was told instead of spitting the harsh liquid out or choking it down. “Aaand a third…. If I taste the slightest hint of filth in your mouth I’m going to let Jacob or my hubby beat you tonight. Or maybe both of them.” This time, she could tell, Penny made a Herculean effort to accept as much liquor as she could stand, and to swish it as hard and as long as she could bear, before choking it down with a sad sound.

“Oooooh… baby…. That’s my sweet, brave girl!” she cooed, finally leaning forward to kiss her wife, licking around the inside of her mouth. “Mmm… those spirits are rough and tough, aren’t they? But here.” She set the spirits down, picked up her own wine glass, filled her mouth with a generous drink, and then returned her lips to Penny’s, holding her chin in place while she forced the wine into Penny’s mouth, with her big tongue following it in to both aggressively-occupy, and gently-tease, her wife’s mouth. Miriam, Rivqah, and even Húanglóng whooped and clapped in approval as Channah demonstrated how thoroughly Penny was in her power and under her spell, making a mess on Penny’s face and her own leg under Penny’s head by slowly and steadily pouring more wine into her mouth without completely disengaging their kiss. Penny swallowed frantically, gasping and struggling to show her obedience, minimize spilling, and breathe all at once.

Pausing a moment to look down with a smugly satisfied expression upon her pliant, gasping jariya (who was staring back up at her with something that looked like adoration and acceptance), Channah licked the excess wine off her own lips and whispered: “This is your night, baby. Yours, too, Chastity,” she spared a glance up at her other wife, before looking back down to enjoy the sight of her handiwork a moment longer. “Tonight—so to speak—all bets are off. You’re still mine, of course. But games aren’t any fun if your opponents aren’t trying their best! Jacob, you’ve gamed with me before, haven’t you?”

“Yes, Domina, at one of—”

But she cut him off without ever even breaking eye contact with Penny. “And you think I’m a hateful bitch, don’t you?”

Jacob hesitated.

“I know you want to agree…”. Channah smirked with pleasure.

“I—no one likes being treated—you know—”

“You’re wrong about that, but I take your point. You don’t like it, do you?”

“I hate it,” he blurted, venom spraying out of his mouth that—if it were chemical rather than emotional—would have burned every surface it touched, surprising even himself.

For her part, Channah gasped, looking up with an intense, aroused expression. “You really know how to get my attention, don’t you? Either that, or you’re so bunged- and bottled-up you can’t help yourself.” She shrugged carelessly. “Either way, it’s fine for me. As much as you hate me—you can’t say I cheated at anything as important at Tarot, can you?”

“No, Your Majesty,” he subsided back into formal servility, perhaps regretting the possible consequences of his earlier outbursts. “That’s true.”

Looking back down at Penny, she asked: “Did you hear that?”

“Yes, Domina.”

And with an ugly, sexy, mean, hot, taunting tone and expression, she challenged Penny: “If you actually have a problem with me being a total bitch who relishes humiliating and ignoring chattel like you, tonight’s the night to show it. It’s like the ancient Greek festival of Anthesteria. I’ll bet your priests didn’t teach you about that, did you? No? Of course not. I’m sure they skipped over all the really interesting festivals. At the Anthesteria, slaves were allowed to participate and party with the free citizens and even their masters, as equals. For that one night, any servant or slave with the guts to do so, could treat their lords and masters as equals, and their lords and masters had to accord them equal respect.” Breaking the intense gaze she and Penny were sharing, she looked up at Jacob, her lip curling in contempt, an unmistakable challenge. “I wonder if you would have stepped up, or slunk away?” Then she looked back down at Penny with the same challenging, insulting disrespect. “And you? Ha! This is your chance, pussy. If you really have any ounce of fire or masculinity in your tiny little purse, show it tonight. Raise the stakes, high enough to make me care. If you dare, dumpling. And then beat me at cards and force me to renegotiate with my husband.” She snorted with laughter. “Our husband!” she corrected herself, leaning forward and kissing Penny forcefully on the lips, driving her tongue hard into Penny’s mouth again to seal the challenge and making her gag before half-releasing her, half-throwing her aside. Looking aggressively around the room, meeting every other eye as if seeing what she might provoke, she drank more wine and barked: “We’ll play here. Do you girls even know what playing cards are?” she asked harshly.

“Yes, Domina!” Chastity responded glad to be able to claim her attention for a moment.

“Go to the adjacent parlor and bring back all the cards you can find. You—” she jabbed a finger down at Penny. “Pull the tallest of the benches into the middle of the room, without a cushion, so we can use it as a table. And then pull lower benches, with the best cushions on them, around it for us to play.” Then, humming, she walked over to the lacquered wooden boxes containing the wedding gifts for each of her wives and picked through them, while the Dragon King and her Duchesses exchanged an amused, excited glance.

A few German words and expressions you may come across

Arschgeige—ass-violin Arschkriecher—ass-kisser Die Wand anschreien—scream at the wall (vomit) Drachen—dragon Führer, Führerin—leader Gelbe—yellow Große—big Herzöge—dukes Im Kreis kotzen—vomiting in circles (feeling annoyed) König—king

Königin—queen Ohne Scheiss—without shit Penisse—penis Prinzessinnen—princesses Pumpel—loud fart Runde—round Schätzchen—sweetie Scheiss die Wand an—shit on the wall (what the hell) Sukkubus—succubus Zuckerbär—sugar-bear Zuckerschlange—sugar-snake

Literature Section “07-37 Dirty, Unholy Bets and Bargains”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 37 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4997 words—Accompanying Images: 2208-2221—Published 2025-09-02—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

Stories

07-36 Honeymoon Hivemind Clusterf*** (abridged version)

2025-08-272025-08-26 admin

*2187 07-36 Rivqah, Channah, and Miriam relaxing after celebrating*

*2189 07-36 Tiferet painting Channah’s party*

*2191 07-36 Penance and Chastity gushing about the Dragon King*

*2193 07-36 Channah in the mood to ride*

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, prostatestimulation, creampie, cleanup, orgasm, triplepenetration, and orgy themes at 07-36X Honeymoon Hivemind Clusterfuck at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: Channah’s best friends, concerned about their liege lady’s well-being and the rumors beginning to circulate in hell, decide to crash her honeymoon with Penance and Chastity, bringing her First Husband, the Dragon King, and two other prize pieces of beefcake along for Channah to ride, while forcing her two brides to help cook breakfast for and serve the lovers; before her First Husband dressed down her Secondary Wives for marrying Channah without his consent. NOW:

Rivqah had noticed George’s giant appendage beginning to stir at the sight of Húanglóng spanking Chastity and she leaned over, beginning to stroke him and whispering in his ear: “You like seeing girls get spanked, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he admitted, pinkening with embarrassment, but hardly able to deny the physical evidence unrolling in front of him. “I—I like seeing anybody get spanked, but—but especially gurls, I think. T-girls.”

“I think it’s time for our Queen’s big moment,” Miriam suggested to Rivqah. “And since you’re stealing my stud—”

“Hey! Fair’s fair!” They both laughed, as Miriam stood, walked around George and Rivqah, and knelt in front of Jacob, looking up in his eyes as she began tickling him, enjoying the way his breath caught and the sly smile that started forming on his lips despite his best efforts to remain moody and resentful. “Don’t be such a pill!” she whispered to him good-naturedly. “You’re about to fuck the Queen. We all know you’re a smart and clever boy, but hello! The succubae, on the whole, are smart and clever, so our cambions are too! D’uh! Don’t be pissy about the fact your ticket to ride comes from down—here—” she kissed him “Just be glad you were invited at all. You’ve impressed the Queen, as well as us!” And she dove down.

Jacob groused: “Don’t you think she likes it better, knowing how much it pisses me off?!” Miriam popped him out of her mouth, making a mock-surprised face at Rivqah, who tried to stifle her own laugh in return. Still looking at Rivqah, Miriam hissed: “I think we all prefer that, now that you mention it.”

“I certainly do,” Rivqah answered. “And just did, in fact. Petulant little brat! So let the wittle baby be all steamy and mad so Channah can really enjoy him!”

The conflicting expressions on Jacob’s face, of vindication and rage to have confirmed his suspicions were correct, were priceless. But fortunately for their plans, he didn’t seem to be any better than Penny and Chastity at reining in his passions today.

While continuing to spank Chastity, who cried and wailed and twisted but couldn’t budge Húanglóng’s powerful hold a single inch, Húanglóng continued addressing all three of his wives, lead wife and secondary wives alike. “Chastity is a girl. She knows she’s a girl, she accepts she’s a girl, and yes, having been born a male, it’s perfectly understandable the shame she feels. Of course she’s ashamed! She was meant to be a man! Anyone born a male with even an ounce of pride would do everything in their power to fulfill their destiny as a man. But she’s given all that up and defied God’s laws and plans just so she can pursue her weak, greedy, selfish little cherished fantasy. She is a rightly-ashamed little girl. Now get back down in your place and thank me for spanking you and accepting you for what little you are!”

As Chastity scrambled to obey, holding her blistered bottom and whining fussily, hissing when she tried to lie down on her back and felt the pain from her freshly-abused bottom, Húanglóng snapped his fingers to summon his other ceshi: “Penance Batonnoir! Come here this instant!” At the same time, Channah was motioning for Esmeray to come over to her, even as she began pouring wine on her husband’s left foot so it dribbled into Chastity’s mouth as she waited for Esmeray to pick her way across the room.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Daddy, please—” Penny whimpered, unable to cover her bottom with her bound hands but trying her best to keep it away from Húanglóng.

“Don’t you dare sass me, girl. Get over here!” Húanglóng seized her arm and threw her over Húanglóng’s right knee, using his right hand and left leg to lock her in place the same way she had held Chastity over her other knee a few moments ago.

“No, Daddy, please!” Penance whined, her attempt at resistance as satisfying as it was ineffective. When Húanglóng’s powerful right hand pushed her head down she knew she was his and fell limp, crying and waiting for his inevitable discipline, which promptly began, the lord’s left hand rising and falling with every bit of the speed and force he had used on her sister.

Penny immediately started bawling, which Húanglóng calmly put a stop to by pausing his spanking just long enough so Penny quieted down enough to hear Húanglóng explain: “I’m going to keep spanking you until I’ve finished lecturing you. If you’re making too much noise to listen, I’m simply going to keep spanking you without even starting my lecture, until you hush your mouth. So, it’s up to you. If you want your spanking to continue all day long, missy, you keep bawling.” And with that, Húanglóng resumed, spanking systematically, hard, and rapidly as Penny tried desperately to stifle her cries, wiggling and kicking over Húanglóng’s knee and doing her best to keep quiet long enough for Húanglóng to finish lecturing her.

“I can’t remember ever dealing with a bigger baby in my life,” Húanglóng began, shaking his head disapprovingly. “It’s like you almost want to be beaten! Has no one ever explained to you that nothing makes a demon want to hit you more, than knowing you’re weak and vulnerable and suffering?”

“Oh, I’ve told him,” Rivqah promised.

“As have I,” Miriam added.

“And I,” Channah laughed. “But she’s hard-headed. And ‘sensitive.’” Everyone laughed, as Channah handed off the bottle of double-spiked wine to Esmeray and made her way to where Miriam was fluffing Jacob. “Is it showtime?!” she asked her friend excitedly.

And Rivqah, without taking her eyes off George’s snake, which was slowly stretching and hardening under the attention of her fingers, answered: “Yes it is, my liege! The scarlet cushion is prepared for you. We tried to anticipate everything….”

“Oh, thank you dear, that’s so thoughtful,” Channah paused, stroking Miriam’s hair appreciatively. “Taking such special care of my boy. If you need one, we can bring over a sissy to finish the fluffing?”

Miriam observed: “Húanglóng is doing so well with them, I hesitate to interfere. And I don’t mind, Jacob’s delicious.” And she resumed working on Jacob while Channah, plucking a jar of lube from a tabletop, turned around and backed up, straddling Miriam, her thighs touching her handmaid’s shoulders, thrusting her bottom back until it was a few inches above Miriam’s neck—and therefore, right in Jacob’s face—and the top half of her body was bending forward, resting one hand on Miriam’s backside. “Get me ready for you, Jacob?” she pouted, holding the jar behind her and making appreciative noises as Jacob, chuckling, warmed the oil in his hands before rubbing it on Channah’s bottom.

Meanwhile, Húanglóng continued spanking and lecturing helpless, panting, trying-her-hardest-not-to-cry Penance: “I’m very upset with you, young lady!”

“I—I—I’m sorr—rree—Daddy!” she wailed, biting her lip to quiet down again instead of crying.

“For what?”

“I don’t know—whatever I did to upset you, Daddy! I want to please you so much!”

“That’s good, but apologizing for nothing, accomplishes nothing. I—want—you—to—listen!”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry!”

“Chastity is ashamed because she could have been a man, but she wanted—wants!—to be a weak woman instead. But you said you wanted to be a man!”

“I do, Daddy, I do, but I know I’m not!”

“Obviously not! And what did your Domina tell you?”

“I don’t kn—lots of things, Master! I mean Daddy!”

“What did she tell you about whether you were a man or a girl?”

“She told me I was a girl before I even knew it,” Penance whined, sobbing silently as the blows kept falling, using her shackled hands for the only thing she could use them for, pressing them into her mouth when she wasn’t talking to muffle her whimpering, so hopefully she wouldn’t upset her Daddy even more.

“And you want to be a man—as if you could! You’re lying over a bull’s lap locked up in chastity and being spanked while your wife gets ready for real men. Hello! Does that make you a man?”

“No, Sir, no Daddy!”

“What does it make you?”

“A sissy cuck, Sir,” Penny confessed miserably.

“You want to be something you’re not—a man!” Húanglóng’s laugh spoke volumes, and practically wilted Penance right in front of her eyes. “In defiance of your Domina!”

“No, Master—Sir—Daddy! I mean Daddy! I swear I would never defy my Domina! I love my Domina!”

“Liar!” Húanglóng growled, shaking his head. “You’re just digging yourself a deeper hole, young lady.”

“I swear! I swear!” Penny screeched desperately. “I’m telling you the truth!”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, oh yes, I promise of course ofcourseI’mtellingyouthetruthsir!”

“If you’re telling me the truth, I’ll let you up this instant. But if I can prove you’re lying, it will go very badly for you!”

“I’m telling the truth! I promise! I swear!”

“We’ll see. Did your Domina tell you you’re a girl?”

“Yes sir! Yes she did, Daddy! Oww ow oww…”

“And have you accepted what your Domina has decided for you? Or are you defying your Domina, and indeed your very—obvious—nature by hoping and fantasizing you’re a man?”

“I—oh—oh no,” Penny moaned, understanding Húanglóng’s point.

“Answer me!”

“I’m—yes! I’m sorry! I am defying my Domina, Daddy! Daddy, I didn’t I didn’t—iiieeee!” She squealed and twisted as Húanglóng, feeling it was time to make her pay for her defiance, picked up a belt from the bed beside him and began applying it to Penance’s ass, its steady crack exciting the succubae in the room as much as it sent Penny to the bare edge, almost suffocating herself to try and remain quiet until Húanglóng was finished with what he needed to say.

“You better be quiet, sissy! You’ve already lied to me and defied your Domina! Do you want to get in even more trouble?”

“No, I’m sorry, Sir! I’m sorry!” and she twisted her body just enough so she could push her face into the crack between Húanglóng’s hip and the bedsheet to muffle her own cries more effectively than she could do with her hands alone.

“So to recap: Have you defied your Domina?”

“Yes Master—ow!” she began.

“And have you lied to me?”

“Yes Daddy I’m so sorry for being a bad boy—I didn’t mean to, I promise!”

“Another promise? Really? So soon after your previous false promise has been exposed?”

“Yes Dadd—I mean no, Daddy!! Ow!”

“Then let’s try my question again, and this time, just answer me as you’ve been instructed to!”

“Yes Sir, Daddy sir!”

“Have you lied to me?!”

“Yes, Daddy!”

“And did you defy me?!”

“No Daddy nev—I—I don’t know Daddy, I’m sorry, I—I don’t know!”

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?!”

“I mean—I mean—I can’t think of any—I can’t think of how I’d defy you, but I’m afraid I did something accidentally without realize—”

“Did you tell your Domina and me, just now, that you want to have sex with women, not men?”

“Yes, Daddy! I remember that Daddy!” she said gratefully, nodding frantically. “Yes, I said that Daddy!”

“After I, a man, warned you I planned to use you for sex?!”

“What?! Oh—oh I see, I’m so sorry! I did that too, Master! I’m bad. I’m stupid. I’m sorry. I’m sorrreee!” she wailed before forcing her mouth and nostrils down into the crack between her spanker’s leg and the bedspread to silence herself again.

“Yes! You! ARE! I! Expect! You! To! Do! Better!”

“Yes, Daddy!”

“You’d better!”

“I will! I promise I will!” Penny squealed and then started bawling. “I can’t—I can’t stop crying! It hurts too much, Daddy! Daddy, my bottom hurts! I’m sorry for crying, I know I’m a crybaby—”

“Lilith and Cain!” Húanglóng rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You need to stop crying and start apologizing. Get on your knees in front of me. Right! This! Instant!”

“Yessir, Yesdaddy!” Penny dropped like a sack of potatoes from her position over Húanglóng’s knee to her knees between Húanglóng’s feet, still sobbing, now facing Húanglóng and immediately moueing at what she saw. At what filled her vision.

“Chastity! Get up here, right next to your sister!”

“Yes, Daddy!” Chas yelped, moving with alacrity to push to her knees, and then squiggle in tight against Penny, the two of them tightly crammed together to fit between Húanglóng’s knees. Húanglóng took their heads and pushed them together, cheek to cheek. “If the crybaby can shut her mouth for one instant!” (she could, sounding like a greased pig dropped into a sloped sewer pipe) “you can hear the adults are getting ready to play again. Can’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy!” the girls nodded frantically, in no doubt as to what they were hearing: Channah moaning with pleasure; Jacob grunting with satisfaction; George gasping and writhing.

“You two have frustrated me and forced me to focus on punishing you, instead of celebrating with my principal wife! That’s inexcusable and now you need to make it up to me—and her—by getting me caught up. Tell me the truth: Do you two sissies want to please me?”

“Oh, YES Daddy!” They both gushed, nodding wildly.

“I want to please you so so so bad, Daddy!” Penny gushed.

“Me too! Even more!’ Please let me please—please give me a chance to show it!” Chastity interjected.

“Do you know what my name means? ‘Húanglóng’?”

“No Daddy,” they shook their heads, staring at the long yellow serpentine dangling in front of them.

“Yellow. Dragon,” he whispered, softly, dramatically, and without hesitation, causing the girls to gasp, understanding. He could see they Understood. “And I truly am that. Now, each of you put one arm around the other, and use your other arm to hold onto my leg, so you can fit between my powerful thighs better and be reminded what sissies you are. Your task is to charm the Yellow Dragon. To want to do i—”

But Húanglóng didn’t even have to finish his sentence. He chuckled. “That’s the way, girls. Forget all those silly ideas about being men… and wanting women… accept who you are. And be ashamed. Because that’s—even—fucking—hotter! Than actually embracing your own identity. Keep being ashamed, and helplessly attracted by your own natures, all at the same time! Your Domina taught me, long long ago, to recognize that is the sweetest of all pleasures, hotter than anything: a human who hates what they love, doesn’t like who they are, and can’t help it even a little bit! Hate yourselves you fucking sluts. Hell knows, you should! You’re pathetic!… I know you’ve never even seen, let alone handled, a real man’s equipment, like this, before. So let me teach you how to do it. Using your hands, and your mouths, all at once. I know, I know, your own underdeveloped bodies barely have enough room for your index finger and thumb.” He guffawed cruelly. “That’s part of why they’re locked up, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” the two girls agreed, their eagerness to please him dimming their awareness of how badly they were being humiliated, as they crammed together against one another, tight between Húanglóng’s bulging steel-cable thighs, and the next moment, feeling the weight of Húanglóng’s legs on their shoulders as he settled back, sighing with pleasure as they served him and acted as his footstools. They worked smoothly together, so crammed in by warm flesh on all sides they began to sweat as they strove assiduously to please their master, whose own needs and priorities were quickly becoming theirs.

On the other side of the large iceberg of divans in the corner, Channah climbed onto them and crawled forward to the scarlet mattress in the very middle of the large array of tightly-packed cushions, leering at Jacob and pointing straight down. “Here. Bottom… here, facing the room. Head towards the corner. Do it, Jacob, come on, baby.”

“My hand—”

“I need a cuck, Daddy!” Channah called out in a sing-song voice, provoking a snort of laughter.

“Fine. Which one’s the more difficult again? For others, I mean. They both seem like putty to me.”

“I can see that,” she admitted wryly. “They both have issues. But Penny’s our problem child.”

“Chastity, go attend to your Domina.”

“Oh, but Daddy, don’t you need—”

“I need you to obey! So I can help Penny understand who—and what—she is. Go!”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry, Daddy!” Chastity, chastened, agreed and scampered onto the bed, crawling until she reached Jacob’s hand, which Channah was pointing to. “Yes, Domina?”

“Clean it!” she commanded, impressed once again by Húanglóng’s uncanny power to motivate humans, as Chastity went to work, only her expression and her attenuated breathing, betraying the difficulty she had with the task she had been assigned. Yet, the enthusiasm with which she acted despite her obvious struggle, revealed how much Húanglóng had already begun to colonize her brain and penetrate her skull.

While Chastity cleaned Jacob, Channah guided Jacob, showing him where she wanted him to lie down on his back, with his head over a gap between two mattresses. “but the hole—why—?” Jacob began, which she quieted by placing one finger on his lips and another on his crotch before running her mouth over Jacob’s torso, smelling and kissing him all over, distracting him while she fished out the shackle she had suspected she might find near his right wrist, Then, still moving sensuously, she climbed over him, straddling his waist and teasing him ever-so-lightly with her most-sweet and vile medlar, putting her lips against his ear and whispering as she mock-rode him, all the time fishing out the other shackle: “Unless you’re actually a masochist, you should learn from my two pathetic cucks and check your attitude. As a cambion, you should know better than to show me how I can hurt you by enjoying you.” And with a giggle and a sneer, she clicked the two shackles closed on his wrists simultaneously. “You’ve gone straight to the top of my party-invite list. Bitch! Now be a good little mattress boy for all of us. It’s unfair, but…” she shrugged and straightened up, meeting his eyes as she gagged him, tying the gag in turn to the edge of the divan so his head was trapped at an angle below the plane of the cushions, enjoying his wounded outrage, drinking it up like honey. She giggled. “I fucking love it. The only revenge you’re going to get is being rough with me, halfling. So do your worst—or, I hope, your best, with the one weapon I’m leaving you.”

And with that, reversed her position, facing away from him, crawling forward so her knees were almost to his, and guiding him, groaning, moving her hips to and fro to work him deeper while she leaned forward, shackling one leg while she held the other down, correctly anticipating he would try to move it as soon as he felt what she was doing to his other leg, pinning it under her elbow until his other ankle was secured and she could bring both hands to bear on it, giggling and enjoying the frantic way he wormed and wiggled and flailed about. “Oh baby, you move so well. Oh, seven hells you’re so excited! I think you are a masochist, my sweet little pouter. A masochist cambion. From now on, it’s gonna suck to be you and I’m going to make you thank me! Oh! Aaaah yessss! Oh, yeah. You’re going nowhere until we’re done with our mattress-boy!” She sighed, as she settled back onto him, pushing a small pillow into the gap between his neck and the back of her head—a pillow just thick enough so that part of her, at least, would be more comfortable and she could focus on the discomforts she wanted; but thin enough that she would still be able to tip her chin back to accommodate her next lover, if not quite as far back as poor, wretched Jacob. “Oh, yes, this is nice! Rivqah, dear?”

“I’m here!” Miriam chimed in, wrapping Chastity’s long blonde hair around her hand. “Come on, Chastity dear, let’s get you cleaned up!” Looking confused, but wanting to oblige, she let Miriam guide her to the bowl of spirits, mint, and water on the ground. After admonishing her to wash her lips and mouth out, Miriam pushed her face right down into the bowl. While she held Chastity under the surface, she got Esmeray’s attention and pointed to the bowl. Nodding, Esmeray tore herself away from an almost obsessive, sickened fascination with Jacob’s assault on Channah—or was it Channah’s assault on Jacob?—and headed toward Miriam.

“Where’s Big George? And more to the point, where’s Little Big George?” Channah was demanding, delighted as he turned and crawled over the array of divans toward her, obeying her instructions and positioning himself above her head, his knees on either side of the gap in the cushions. “Stop dawdling, hubby, this is no time for you to go gay on me. I need my Long Hwang,” she snorted to her husband. “Or I’ll find someone else to finish my trio!” she threatened, before imitating a snake trying to digest a mongoose. She did manage to elicit an amazed groan from George that could not have failed to get Húanglóng’s attention, even if he had been able to ignore his wife. (Which, in truth, he had never been able to do, a fact that had helped to, and continued to, shape the history of the Seven Hells in now-predictable and stabilizing ways. No one else could see it, but Húanglóng himself, the great and charismatic persuader, knew he was not quite the most-persuasive demon in hell, even if the gifts he did have, came more easily to him than to others.

“I wouldn’t miss this—or you—for the world or hell below it, my love,” he assured her sincerely enough, manhandling Penny with her hair as he lumbered to his knees on the bed and approached her, pulling Penny along beside him, forcing her to try to keep up. “Now the question is—where do you want to feel your little cucks’ mouths?”

With a derisive snort, but without slipping off Big George, she shook her head sharply.

“Not at all?” He asked, a little surprised. “I guess if they couldn’t satisfy you on their own, they don’t have much to contribute to our orgy. I’m going to have them hold your ankles and worship your feet,” he proposed, pleased to see her quick nod of agreement and shiver of anticipation. “I know what my baby doll likes. Get over there, cuck! Hold it up above her hips and waist so there’s plenty of room for me!” he jerked Penny’s head towards Channah’s left foot, all of them pleased to see how eagerly the auburn-haired girl scurried to her assigned station, even as Chastity was released by Miriam to service her right foot. “That will free my hands to…” and as the Yellow Dragon slithered, he demonstrated, placing one thumb close above his own flesh and the other on her wrist, gently drawing her hand to his mouth to kiss her palm sweetly, releasing her hand and moving his own hand toward her right breast. “Big George! My boy!” He growled around his kisses. “If you hadn’t put it together yet, this experience is all about extreme stimulation for our goddess. It’s impossible to overwhelm a succubus, but conversely, it’s almost impossible to make them feel fully stimulated. It’s the one challenge I—I never seem to grow weary of attempting, no matter how many centuries roll slowly past. So don’t be lazy! Attend to your Queen!”

“Yes, m’Lord, of course—but—ungh—how else?”

“You have two hands and a mouth, son. Use them! She still has one neglected nipple and along with her feet and her erogenous zones, she likes to have her hands kissed and stroked! So attend to her other one!”

Below them, between them, cocooned within them all, Channah shuddered with the rare intensity of what she was experiencing, as Miriam and Rivqah exchanged a look that was at once pleased—for their Mistress—and envious.

“Tiferet, dear,” Rivqah sighed. “I don’t know how you can stand your work! Always seeing, being exposed to… possibilities, without getting to play.”

“Don’t pity me, Your Grace,” she scoffed at the thought. “I’ve learned to enjoy the anticipation. And I’ve learned a lot… so many ideas to practice with my own lovers and thralls….”

“Well, I don’t have your patience,” Rivqah shook her head sadly. “I want a way to play right now, but our Mistress—happily—is enjoying every unlocked toy in the room, and even the complete focus of the ones who are locked!”

“Well, as an observer,” Tiferet mused drolly, “I count at least one, two, three, and four accessible holes….”

Rivqah and Miriam exchanged a quick, almost embarrassed look. “We hadn’t thought of that…. even more than other succubae, Her Majesty likes to play as a female,” Miriam admitted.

“And it is definitely the best way to play,” Rivqah agreed.

“But when in Rome…”

Rivqah snorted. “I’m not sure that’s actually an apt analogy my dear, but I take your point.” Crawling up behind Húanglóng, she pressed herself against his broad, powerful, chubby back and moaned: “Your Majessssttttyyyy… could we—could I—play with you, too? It’s been soooo loooong since you’ve touched me, and I’ve never—”

Húanglóng grunted. “As tempting as you are my dear, that must be for another time. This is a gift for my wife, and the way she’s reacting…” he shivered. “I’m completely focused on her and wouldn’t want it any other way. Not just at this second. Go fuck a cuck, but if and only if you can do so without distracting them from their proper attentions.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Majesty,” she answered. Slumping in half-real, half-mock disappointment, Rivqah pouted to Miriam and Tiferet, who tried without success to keep from sniggering. “Well, I at least want to try someone new!” she cried, pouncing on Chastity.

“No fair! We’ve both had Penny before! She’s used,” Miriam sulked, continuing Rivqah’s game.

Húanglóng roared with laughter. “Cucks are made to be used. If you’re suggesting my wife hasn’t used the other one yet, she doesn’t just need us, she needs a doctor!” Even Channah couldn’t help laughing at that, it coming out as a gagging, half-drowning sound that caused George to shiver in surprise.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Miriam whined. “I’ll take the copperhead. Again.” Dipping her fingers in the jar of olive oil, she passed it to Rivqah, who in turn took a share and passed it back to Esmeray as the two succubae took advantage of their Queen’s two housegifts. “Remember, little tightass,” Miriam murmured into Penny’s ear, enjoying every part of intimacy, “try to loosen your body to match your mouth,” feeling the girl shudder as she entered her, reaching around front of her to hold her tight and taking a surprised breath, remembering how much she had changed since the last time she had hands on the girl. “I forgot… you have big soft beautiful boobies now! You ARE kind-of-like new!” she gushed enthusiastically. “That’s the way, little girl. Keep it firmly in your mind to be a Pleaser not a Princess today. Please me, and at the same time, don’t you dare break your concentration on my Mistress because if I have to pull out and sit this scene out, I’m going to beat you like a rented mule the rest of the day!”

“And that goes double for you, bimbo!” Rivqah cried, slapping Chastity’s hips and then her breasts, hard, for emphasis, before snuggling up to her in unconscious imitation of Miriam, spooning their kneeling lover girls and cradling them up front even as they pierced them behind.

Penny felt strangely calm: Calmer than she had ever felt before in her life, with a sense of peace and a sense of purpose that dovetailed perfectly.

The Dragon King’s secret power was ultimately his reasonableness, Penny reflected. Like Channah, he had shown himself to be smarter and more knowledgeable than Penny. For a girl like her, who viewed and understood the world through her sense of reason—a smart girl of reason, whose reason usually concluded, with ironclad evidence, that she understood things better than the impulsive, emotional, superstitious fools around her—it was unsettling to confront a greater intelligence, like being punched in the solar plexus and winded, suddenly deprived of the thing she normally took for granted to such an extent, the notion of being without it was shocking and alarming.

Even Penny, as close as she knelt to the Dragon King even now, their knees braced against one another, skin to skin; their arms brushing one another as Penny delicately and lovingly cradled her goddess’s foot, musing on how blessed she felt to be the caretaker of such a sacred and precious part of her Domina. A part, she admitted to herself with a flash of embarrassment, that was one of her very favorite parts. Which, in turn, she blushed thinking how weird that sounded. Or, if she was more honest, that it actually was a little weird…. No! She didn’t fucking care, she thought daringly. If other people looked down on her, didn’t she already look down on herself? So what if others confirmed it? Was this not where she wanted to be? Didn’t it feel right, like she was exactly where she deserved (and wanted) to be? The smell of her goddess was so subtle here, so intimate, as soft as the pads on her toes and the balls of her feet and her heels… and warm. Her Domina was so warm and alive and beautiful and—had she lost her train of thought? She shook her head infinitesimally and remembered: The Dragon.

The Dragon King. He was doing… something to her. Her reason told her this; and the laughing succubae around them had implied as much. But whatever he was doing… Penny knew he wasn’t incorrect: wanting to be a man… wishing she could possibly someday manage to be any bit of a man… if she really imagined it was possible, that would make it a rebellion, and she was lucky the Dragon King hadn’t punished her as harshly as rebellion deserved! Truly the Dragon King was merciful and… almost obliging in a roundabout way. Nice, she decided. A kind and tolerant man, who showed even Penny a kind of respect everyone around her in her life had made it clear to her she didn’t deserve. And she definitely didn’t want to rebel—not against him, certainly not against her Domina!

Avoiding rebellion was something she could only claim as a success and a credit to her if she knew and accepted she could never be a man, if she knew, in fact, she was a girl. But giving up forever—wasn’t that just as damning to her as allowing the demons to sodomize and debauch her in the first place? Only if she could accept that the weakness and the failure were hers and hers alone, and therefore confirm that her Domina’s desire for her to be the girl she was meant to be was true to her and for her, could she show her true commitment and devotion to her Domina. And the thing was… she believed her Domina, in that and really almost everything. Definitely everything that mattered. Penny knew in her heart she could not be the man she wanted to be, or even a boy. Unlike Chastity, who knew she was a girl because of her own desire to be one, Penny knew she was a girl because she was utterly incapable of being a man—she lacked the cock, the balls, the stamina, the strength, the feral nature, even the urges and desires of a man, responding only when she was treated and pleasured like a woman.

And the truth of the matter, she knew, was that she wanted to honor and obey and comply with her Domina’s commands, to live according to her Domina’s rule; even if she could have been a man… would she have dared, or wanted, to pursue her own desires rather than her Domina’s? Her amazing Domina had decided she ought to be a girl; shouldn’t that be enough? She was caged and allowed only to worship her Domina’s foot because that was what gave her Domina pleasure. Penny’s true pleasure came from serving hers. She knew, because she couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere other than where she was now, helping her goddess, serving her goddess, worshipping her goddess in the only, tiny, tertiary way she was capable, given her physical and mental disabilities and limitations.

As wrong as she knew her love was for a demoness, it was there; and it was love, and God was love. And there could be no doubt her demoness was in some way, indeed in most ways, everything but religion, more and greater than Penny herself—more important, more significant, longer-lived, outsized in influence, more powerful… and, God in Heaven forgive her, her goddess knew her, intimately and directly and more deeply, so much so it was hard to tell where one of them ended and the other one began sometimes. To be allowed so close to her, given so much of her attention… Penny’s shoulders slumped as it all came together for her, partly in defeat, but mainly in the calm and restful acceptance that she was meant to yield to her amazing goddess. To stroke her sensuous soles, to suck on her big round soft toes, to press her fingertips and thumbtips into the pudgy, delicate, perfectly-shaped ball and heel of her foot… to know that her goddess was feeling and experiencing her servant’s touch, even when it was just a tiny part of what she felt, a tiny fraction of the significance of her other lovers, her real lovers…. Penny was simply not her Domina’s equal, and therefore could not possibly be her ‘lover’; it would be like an ant proposing partnership with a whale. Or an aardvark, a part of her whispered. But no matter what analogy one might fashion, she could never be the kind of equal her goddess needed. She could only, at best, be a pet: a domesticated animal kept by her goddess and allowed to provide her with some narrow part of what she needed. Attending to her feet, goddess, what an honor…. Fetching her slippers, perhaps, if Penny were her actual dog…

Whatever the Dragon King was doing to Penny today, at this very instant, Penny realized, it was supportive. Because normally, when Penny hit one of those rare moments where she had to ask if her reason and wit and perception were wrong, it inspired panic and fear. The Dragon King had peeled back the scales from her eyes, and done it so gently, holding Penny tenderly in his hands… or, Penny blushed at the thought, in his gorgeous feet—yes, why not? She thought defiantly to herself… it was more accurate, anyway! Clearly she had a little thing for his feet, too….

But however embarrassing that was, or unmanly, or should be—none of it mattered at all. She tried to let go of all the aspirations and anxieties and failures, the focus on thing she was not and could not be, in favor of focusing on the thing she actually was, and could be, and even, could do really well, probably a lot better than someone like Roger who lacked the reverence Penny felt for her goddess Channah….. So Penny breathed peacefully, worshiped genuinely, and obeyed rightly, putting everything above her station out of mind. Even the Bible exhorted believers to help and to serve others; and the Dragon King, like the Succubus Queen before him, had shown Penance a new level of service, a new height in her genuine and real urge to help and to serve and to care for others. She could easily imagine a life of service to her Domina and her First Husband, how fulfilling it would be, and how grateful it would make her feel, and that was all she imagined as she inhaled and kissed her Domina’s feet with even deeper passion and connection than before.

Miriam’s insistence behind her, entering her, taking her, holding her so tightly, touching her sensitive breasts… her transformation into a girl had awakened in her feelings and desires that were not so different from those she had experienced as a boy, but instead added to them, even multiplied them. How could she object to a transformation that made more of her body into a playground and a means of deep connection to others? Miriam’s fingertips, rolling Penny’s nipples while her palms hugged Penance’s breasts… before today, before now, she couldn’t even have imagined how good it would feel to be loved in your root and in your heart and even in your head—where Miriam’s kisses, on the back of Penny’s neck, were giving her goosebumps—all at once!

“You could never be a distraction, Mistress Miriam,” she heard herself moaning out loud. “You just make me feel more loved by my Domina who I’m so lucky to be allowed to worship at all…”

“Aww… that’s sweet!” Miriam sounded surprised, but certainly pleased.

“I want you to sweet-talk me!” Rivqah pinched Chastity’s nipples on the other side of Channah.

“I’m sorry, Mistress Rivqah,” Chastity gasped around Channah’s right foot. “I know I don’t have Penny’s sweet words, but I promise you—and our Domina—that I feel the same way. I swear it!”

Rivqah’s face softened. “Well, that is nice,” she conceded.

“And it’s true!” Chastity insisted.

“Of course we feel this way, Mistress Rivqah!” Penny moaned. “You both are so smart and beautiful and passionate, and loyal to our Domina. And our Domina…” Penny sighed. “She—I just—there aren’t the words to say how amazing she is for us, how much we need her. How connected we are to her—”

“Yes, Penny!” Chastity cried.

“Even though we’re just nothing—”

“We’re so grateful!” Chastity gushed

“Of course we are! So in love….” Penance purred, rubbing her cheek on the outer edge of her Domina’s foot, then kissing it softly but deeply in the tender arch, feeling so close to Channah precisely because she knew how insignificant Penny was, and therefore how inclusive and secure her goddess’s love was and must be to have embraced her. “And we are so grateful to the Dragon King for showing us how special our opportunity to serve our goddess, our Domina, and her First Husband, truly are.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty!” Chastity agreed, neither knowing nor caring if the Dragon King responded because she meant it so completely and her sense of connection and participation was so total.

Rivqah bit her lip, imperfectly preventing herself from laughing, a sound Penny heard echoed behind her. Meeting her eyes, Rivqah explained: “You girls are perfect for succubae, you’ve got it so bad….”

“I know,” Penance sighed blissfully. “Of course Domina was right, we were made for her… made to serve her and her First Husband and Handmaids and—”

“Everyone in her Court,” Chastity agreed, finishing Penance’s thought. “I feel—everything is perfect,” Chastity smiled beatifically, planting a sweet, gentle kiss on Channah’s pinkie toe, trying to communicate and to feel, with that one touch, all the love she felt.

“Everything except—” Penny started, and then stopped, her voice crestfallen. “I’m sorry. I’m so greedy.”

“I want to hear it,” Miriam suggested, nibbling on the back of Penny’s neck and making her shiver. “Tell me… it’s okay. Your love for your Domina is undoubted….”

“My penis,” she whispered. “I mean—my clitty. It hurts so bad and—and I want—”

“We’re so horny!” Chastity blurted out, finishing Penny’s thought.

All the demons laughed, even Channah, even George, who offered: “I guess it does kind of suck to be you two.”

“You can’t make her laugh,” Rivqah laughed at George. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to breathe when you’re doing what she’s doing? It takes perfect timing!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” George apologized, genuinely. “Should I—”

“You should shut up and stay in your rhythm so she can breathe and we can all hear more of this arousing talk from our two little philosophers here,” Rivqah suggested good-naturedly. “And while I can only agree it would suck to be either of these losers, I feel compelled to point out: it’s not our fault! This is not our doing! These girls’ existence sucked before we ever came along.”

“I know that now,” Penance sighed wistfully. “I know that’s true. I’m—the Dragon King has helped me see how, you know…”

“Worthless?” Chastity suggested.

“Yes, worthless!” Penance agreed. “That’s exactly it! How nothing we were before she came into our lives and let us finally mean something, even if it’s a tiny something, by being part of her life!”

“Aw….” Rivqah agreed, sharing a devilish look with Miriam, even as the Dragon King shook with silent laughter of his own.

“I’m sorry,” Penny apologized, noticing. “I didn’t mean to disrupt you, I know we should all be concentrating on our Domina—”

“We should, but the dirty talk coming out of your filthy, shame-ridden mouth is so hot you need to keep it up!” Rivqah encouraged them.

“It’s true,” Miriam murmured around Penny’s ear, her breath hot and wet and ticklish even as the steady motion of her hips was like the ocean lulling Penny’s little boat to a peaceful sleep.

“Actually,” Rivqah commanded, “hush now—it’s time!” And at the exact same moment, Miriam and Húanglóng both gasped: “She’s ready!”

Penny opened her mouth to ask what they meant but fell silent at Rivqah’s narrowed warning eyes, accepting her place and sinking back completely into her dream about Channah’s perfect feet, even as she felt the pressure on her female sex organ getting harder and more insistent, commanding her attention and somehow communicating to her exactly what the demons were talking about. She realized all of the demons and half-demons around them, and therefore she and Chastity—rocked by their partners the same way their Domina was being rocked by her First Husband—were suddenly moving in synch with Him and with one another, their tempo and force both slowly gaining. She could see it, the way Rivqah’s and even Húanglóng’s eyes started to lose their focus on the world around them to gaze upon whatever they saw inside themselves, or whatever shared vision bound them together in their uncannily coordinated experience.

For a moment Penny saw herself from outside, or felt she was outside, until she felt her body, which was connected to theirs, and snapped back fully into it. Penny realized the demons were bringing her with them—or maybe that she and Chastity were keeping up with the demons—that all of them were together, united in a profound way, by purpose and feeling and thought and awareness, all at once, all feeling what they needed to feel to be brought together in this way, nearly as close as Penance felt to her Domina by touching and breathing her in.

“For you, my love,” Húanglóng pledged.

“For you, Older Sister!” Rivqah and Miriam promised.

“Your Grace!” George shouted.

“Oh, oh, all for you, Domina!” Penance and Chastity swore, their own voices sounding weak and effeminate and less-convincing even to themselves, but knowing they were adding to the best of their limited abilities.

And suddenly everyone was writhing and yelling and shivering and yowling and especially, cursing and swearing. A single explosion was tearing all of them back apart into wiggling wet solitary things, thrown deeply back into themselves with the shared secret of what they had seen and been together.

For seconds or minutes that stretched to the horizon of time, they all shook and wept and cried, unwilling to be done and absolutely unwilling to let go of the sensations and spiritual electricity that had crackled through them all.

Penny was almost done when Miriam suddenly and unexpectedly pulled out of her and pulled her down onto her back, barking: “Get close to your Domina! Wiggle right up to her side, but facing in the opposite direction!” She felt like it was unfair and unreasonable that her bliss had been interrupted until she understood the bigger picture, remembering that she was just a supporting player in this drama no matter how important it felt, or it made her feel. And more to the point, remembering that this particular experience was for Her, Penny’s Domina; and so of course, since all of them were sharing the same timeline, Penny had to move into her next position before Penny was ready, so that her Domina could move when the time was exactly and precisely right.

“We’re going to lift her off Jacob and onto the cuck,” Húanglóng explained to George. “Hold her shoulders 1… 2… 3!” And they raised her and plopped her down onto Penny, her whole back and buttocks wet and intense and oppressive with her sweat, perhaps mingled with that of Jacob. Chastity was pushed to kneel between her legs so the two girls were close enough together they could have kissed one another. But their duty—to their Domina—was kind of obvious, even to them, even before Miriam and Rivqah spelled it out:

“Bring her down, girls. Worship her and pleasure her gently, for as long as wants to rest. Don’t make a mess and don’t stop, no matter what, until she tells you she’s done!” No one had to spell out the details any further than they already had. Both girls were simultaneously post-orgasmic and frustrated beyond reason, in the exquisitely tortured place that they already knew awaited them after the womanly orgasms that were all they had been permitted. Their ruined prostate orgasms were at once a terrible promise and a terrible denial to their caged and ever-hopeful bodies, all at once. But satisfied or not, they were unanchored and floating and electric with the confused, mixed energies that resulted. They were both still outside themselves and not quite back to reality, as they began assiduously worshiping their goddess-Queen. The Dragon King calmly rested his hand on the back of Chastity’s head, emphasizing that it was the Dragon King’s mess Chastity was expected to clean and the Dragon King’s bliss Chastity had the honor of soothing Channah from. For Penny, it was being pressed between the soft divan and her Domina’s hot, wet, sticky body that communicated the truth to her, that whatever doubt there might be about whose sweat she felt and smelled on her Domina’s skin, there was none about whose seed was squeezing out of her Domina’s body: that of Channah’s half-demon victim, who had been trapped beneath her just as Penny was now, as nameless and disregarded and secondary and put-upon as Penny herself.

“Such… good… girls…” Channah sighed softly, when she finally spoke, but still she didn’t stir, but lay, completely relaxed, her weight moderately compressing Penny’s lungs and breath in a way that would not let her forget she was trapped under and thus passively commanded by her Domina; even as the dripping mess she was soothing with her mouth would not let her forget what contempt and disregard she was held in and thought of by the demons.

And even with all this, even being so low, she felt so right. Being reduced to nothing like this, a continuation and indeed the natural culmination of having been used and pushed lower and lower for the pleasure of her goddess…. The result, and therefore the treatment, were right because they fit. All the world was as it ought to be when Penny was being degraded under her goddess.

Releasing her ego and accepting this lifted such a weight off Penny’s shoulders, the weight of a lifetime of lying to herself and not knowing who she was and refusing to face her true destiny was wiped away, allowing Penny’s spine to straighten and her body live. Because her true destiny was right here after all, just like this, being shattered and reduced and lessened in exactly this way, to exactly this existence defined by her service to Channah. “I feel so peaceful…” she sighed, freed like a bird by the novelty of being so honest and true to herself, a self she had not even understood before now. “So good….” And then, even as her Domina laughed softly at her, she confessed: “This is exactly right. Where and how I belong. I belong to you, Domina!”

And they both knew she completely meant it. Because they both knew it was completely true.

Literature Section “07-36[X] Honeymoon Hivemind Clusterf***”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 36 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 8214 words::Explicit 8434 words—Accompanying Images: 2187-2196—Published 2025-08-27—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

Stories

07-35 BULLying Cucks for Kicks

2025-08-262025-08-26 admin

*2176 07-35 Behold the Power of the Dragon King*

*2179 07-35 The Dragon King’s Unspoken Challenge*

*2184 07-35 What do you imagine is going to happen here, cuck?*

CAUTION: Contains themes of heavy degradation and bullying some readers may find disturbing

PREVIOUSLY: Channah’s best friends, concerned about their liege lady’s well-being and the rumors beginning to circulate in hell, decide to crash her honeymoon with Penance and Chastity, bringing her First Husband, the Dragon King, and two other prize pieces of beefcake along for Channah to ride, and forcing her two brides to help cook breakfast for the lovers upstairs. NOW:

On their own honeymoon, the girls cooked and assisted with other chores for about an hour enduring the loud cries and moans from above them that proved conclusively Miriam and Rivqah had been right to bring real men for their Domina to celebrate with, before Haruka finally dismissed the girls into Esmeray’s care. At this point they had helped her make coffee, pour cream, pile dates on plates for sweetening the coffee, set the dinner table, chopped vegetables and cold meats, steamed rice, and warmed bread, listening carefully as she explained exactly how to prepare each item and ingredient the way Channah liked it, and enduring her harsh criticisms and corrections of them every time they made a mistake.

Now she relaxed on a stool beside the kamado—the traditional Japanese oven in Channah’s Mesoamerican hacienda that, Haruka had explained, reflected their Domina’s preference for the meticulousness and rigidity of Japanese aesthetics in her home—idly bobbing one foot, at first casually and then with more deliberation as she noticed Penny’s stare, frowning with concentration like a cat experimenting with a mouse. She slowly sipped her own coffee, enjoying watching as Esmeray bound their wrists, hobbled their ankles, leashed them, piled their trays with food and drink and utensils, and led them away to and awkwardly up the stairs, forced by their bonds to balance their trays on their forearms while desperately clinging to the outer edges with their shackled hands.

Esmeray turned off the stairs on the second floor, which the girls had never explored before, and led them to two unfamiliar but well-appointed rooms. The first, on the right, overlooking parts of the garden they had never seen before, and the rain forest under the cliffs, was the parlor. It was dominated by curved tables arranged in a ring with curved sofas just outside them, and four giant multi-pipe hookahs spaced around the circle. The other, the saloon or celebration room, on the left—which was occupied now—overlooked the garden, the springs, the gazebo, and the great valley beyond them. It contained broad divans arranged around the perimeter of the room with a large area comprising, essentially, an oversized bed formed by divans that had been pushed together in the corner immediately to the right of the entrance. All the divans in the corner were flat. The other divans, and a number of chairs,that were scattered elsewhere around the room offered a variety of intriguing and unique shapes for playing on, and were piled with pillows of every shape, size, and firmness. Tiferet sat on a chair near the middle of the room behind an easel with paints, brushes, and pots of water set on two low tables to either side of her, painting swiftly and intently, while Esmeray sat on a stool beside and slightly behind her, watching in fascination over her shoulder. Their chairs were facing the divans in the corner where the six lovers relaxed, eyes closed, naked and entangled in postcoital bliss: Channah and Húanglóng lying sideways with Channah’s head resting on Húanglóng’s soft, fat stomach; Rivqah spooning Jacob with her hand holding his member; and Miriam curled against George’s side with her head on his arm, running her fingers idly over his chest. Only Tiferet and Esmeray were still dressed; on the bed, the celebrants had cast aside all their clothing and shoes, and a large portion of their gold jewelry. As best the girls could tell, their decisions about what jewelry to leave on, and what to take off, were completely arbitrary. If there was any rhyme or reason to the selections, it eluded them.

After the girls had served everyone else coffee and breakfast, Channah sent them back downstairs for spiked wine and spirits. Upon their return, Channah made them stand just in front of the divans and fill two goblets apiece with a blend of spiked wine and clear spirits, then choke down the nauseating stuff while everyone watched and cheered them on with laughter. Miriam and Rivqah then instructed them to fill a large, deep bowl on the floor with a mixture of white spirits, mint, and water, and finally to serve all the lovers and their qahramanah with spiked wine. Channah, laughing, made Penny bring her one of the wine bottles and held Penny face-up on her lap while she poured more wine down her throat, while Rivqah and Miriam did the same to Chastity.

Finally, Channah commanded them both to crawl before Húanglóng, who was now sitting on the edge of the group of divans, drinking wine, while Channah sat behind him with her head on his shoulders and her arms as far around his chest as she could reach. “You missed my weddings, beloved,” Channah reminded Húanglóng, immediately provoking Rivqah and Miriam to laugh: “uh-oh!” “Oh no!” as if someone had done something wrong.

Húanglóng shrugged. “What man can keep up with the weddings of such a healthy, lusty succubus?” causing everyone else to laugh while Chastity and Penny looked nervous. Noticing, Húanglóng pointed to the ground at his feet, commanding them: “Don’t be shy. Crawl closer, let’s see my wife’s homet-nuswut.” The phrase was ancient Egyptian, and was another way of expressing their status as Channah’s lesser, secondary partners, compared with Channah’s and Húanglóng’s status as primary partners to one another.

As they hurried over on their knees, provoking laughter from the others, Channah admonished them: “I know I don’t have to tell you girls to treat my First Husband as you would me, your god where I am your goddess, do I?”

“No, Domina,” they assured her, looking scared, aware the atmosphere in the room had changed and everyone else was now watching them intently with a sharpened interest the girls didn’t understand. At least some of their uncertainty was reflected in the eyes of George and Esmeray, but at least those two had the instinctive comfort of knowing whatever was happening, didn’t involve them. But everyone else in the room seemed to be in on it, whatever ‘it’ was.

“Stay on your knees. But put your heads on the floor with your arms stretched out under the bed in front of you,” Húanglóng ordered them, calmly and with a sense of self-possession, “and turn your heads to the sides, away from one another. I want each of you focused on me now, not distracting one another.”

The girls obeyed, and next felt the Emperor’s large, heavy feet descending to rest on their heads, pressing them down uncomfortably into the stone floor as he relaxed and allowed their weight to rest on the girls’ skulls. With their shackled wrists in front of them, the Emperor’s posture allowed him an easy and—for them—humiliating way to keep them under his control.

“You married my wife,” he stated, gruffly and bluntly. They heard Channah make a noise somewhere between a growl and an approving moan behind him. “But you didn’t even so much as ask my permission first, did you?”

“No, Master,” they responded in unison, knowing he would be displeased with their angle.. “I’m sorry, Mast—”

“Hush! You’ll have a chance to show how sorry you are in a minute, and possibly all day.” The celebrants on the bed all made warning calls and hoots of anticipation, while Penny’s half-squished face (Chastity’s was invisible to the group, facing the wall) just looked more anxious and worried, provoking secondary laughter. “Right now, you listen to me and you answer me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“From now on, you will address me as ‘First Husband,’ although when you’re serving me sexually—”

Miriam laughed: “I wish you could see the panic in this little girl’s face!”

He acknowledged the comment with a slight, momentary grin, continuing “You should call me ‘Daddy,’” he decided, rolling the balls and heels of his feet over their temples and cheeks, perhaps because it felt pleasant to him or perhaps simply to reinforce their helpless subservience before him. Then he responded to Miriam: “When you marry a married woman, you marry her husband as well,” he pointed out reasonably. “If they didn’t want to be both our playthings, they shouldn’t have married us, should they?” And then, pushing down a little harder and squishing the girls’ faces a bit more, he emphasized: “Especially without asking me first. Should you?”

“No, First Husband!” they yelped.

“But you chose to marry us, anyway, and now you are bound to us as our ceshi or shu-wives. Do you deserve my wrath, wretched girls?”

“Yes, First Husband,” they quavered fearfully.

“You certainly do. But fortunately for you, I am a very tolerant and forgiving master.” Sliding his feet from the tops of their heads to rest immediately in front of each girl’s face, he pressed the soles of his feet into their faces, speaking soothingly. “Breathe, chattel. Be calm and breathe.”

They obeyed—they could scarcely do otherwise, in their positions—but he emphasized: “Deeper. Breathe deeper! I want to hear it! I want to know you’re breathing in, deeply and calmly, breathing me into you….” And as they practically hyperventilated, everyone in the room could hear, and enjoy. “That’s the way… Even in this plane, in this borrowed body, my body is at peace, and brings others to peace with me. Are you starting to feel docile and calm, now, in my presence?”

“Yes, First Husband,” they answered, Penny’s response tinged with the faintest hint of surprise.

“Good girls. Roll over onto your backs,” he commanded, lifting his legs while they scrambled to obey. “Keep your hands above your heads!” he reminded them; and as soon as they were in position, he settled his feet back onto them, this time right on their faces, pressing down. “Breathe and worship me. Go on! Kiss my feet and clean them. Get your tongues out! Good girls…” They heard applause, and claps of approval, but no longer cared. Or rather, they cared only whether their actions pleased Him, and their Domina.

“That’s so hot,” Channah moaned, scrambling around her husband to sit on his lap, facing him, and kiss him. “I never get tired of seeing it. Or of envying it.”

He roared with laughter. “Look who’s talking. Mmm…” he paused to kiss his wife back. “You brought them to me already caged and humiliated and pledged to your service, did you not? I’ve yet to meet the succubus who couldn’t domesticate an animal on sight.”

“But it’s so… effortless for you!” she protested, gnawing affectionately on his lip before pushing her tongue back against his.

After a moment he protested—his grin making his protestation unconvincing: “Sitting on my thighs, you’re making it much harder for our little wives to show their respect!”

“Good!” she murmured huskily, pressing herself up against his hardening member and bouncing on his thighs to send concussive shocks down his legs into her chattels’ faces.

“I’ll bet it’s every bit as good for them,” Miriam added wryly. “They know where they belong now. And it’s probably what they need, they’re such compliant little girls.”

Tearing herself away with a sigh, Channah backed off the bed and squatted down between her wives, feeling them, and crowed with delight, provoking laughter from her companions: “‘They shall lick the dust like a serpent.’ And they are most definitely trying to ‘move out of their holes like worms.’”

“So, Jacob,” Húanglóng snickered, rubbing his feet across his playthings’ eager tongues and lips, unable to completely conceal the enjoyment he felt from such an easy demonstration of his power, protracting it with casual conversation. “We have met before?”

Channah snorted, “Boaster,” as she rose back to her feet, idly kicking Penny’s little scrotum and watching her flinch and whine without pausing for one second in her devotions. “Incredible,” she hissed with disgust, shaking her head and going to the table where the girls had set the liquor, picking up a bottle of wine and offering refills to her companions.

“Come now, surely our girls should have a moment to acclimate to their new station before we put them back to work,” Húanglóng suggested loftily, as if he were doing them a favor, with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Jacob answered. “I have had the honor of meeting you in Lytos, at your Palace of Indolence, upon the occasions of several anniversaries.” Channah’s and Húanglóng’s anniversary celebrations, held in Lytos primarily to make it likely he and the other dragon participants would show up, was one of the few occasions when demons from different hells interacted other than through political embassies. And although the guests were only dragons and succubae, the uniqueness of the event made it legendary in hell.

The Dragon King looked pleased. “Ah, yes, I remember you now. You enjoy chasing the dragon?”

“Everyone enjoys chasing the dragons, Master,” Jacob allowed.

“Ha ha, good answer! As everyone dreams of being visited by the succubae. I can see why you are invited, of course!”

“Not my conversational skills, I’m afraid, Your Majesty,” he admitted with a faint undertone that was difficult to place, but sounded almost ugly and hard.

Húanglóng raised an eyebrow, but didn’t care to pursue it, asking instead: “You’re a cambion?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, the son of the succubus Michal.”

“Of course,” he nodded, turning to George. “And you? You seem—new to me?”

“We have never met before, Your Majesty,” George responded. “I am George Manning, th-the carpenter at Duchess—er, Queen Channah’s Fensmere estate in Cambridge.”

Húanglóng’s eyes narrowed. “But surely, if your life and soul are safe from the succubae, you can’t be fully human?”

George looked surprised. “Yes, Your Majesty—I am! Or… I thought I was…”

“Hmm… also not invited for your conversational skills.”

“Your Majesty?” George asked uncertainly. “It—it’s an honor to have been invited—”

“Oh, dear.”

Channah, back by the sideboard, further fortifying the spiked wine by pouring what was left from the bottle she had used to refill everyone’s glasses into a flagon with a couple of fingers of spirits left in it, snorted and exchanged a wry glance with Esmeray before interjecting: “He’s the son of one of my very brightest operatives.”

“Really?” Húanglóng asked drily.

“Really. The woman who tutored the two, I can assure you, very-well-educated girls licking the dust and shit from the soles of your feet at this very moment, darling.”

“Really?” he looked surprised.

“Really, darling,” she assured him. “We all thought he was human, but George darling, tell him what happened to you when our whorish little Penny got you overexcited?”

“I, er—” George blushed. “Turned green.”

“More than just that, darling. He revealed himself as a dragon cambion. He might even be one of your great-something-grandsons.”

“Really?!” Húanglóng grinned, now interested and approving, clapping George on the shoulder. “Good lad! And I see you take after me in some ways!”

“I do?”

“Eh—in the ways that got you invited to this party!”

“Duchess Miriam said I would make a nice surprise for Her Majesty the Queen,” George admitted proudly.

“And you will!” Húanglóng encouraged him, patting him on the back reassuringly. And, seeing he was still not following: “We’re talking about the size of your cock, son! You’re a big chip off the old block. Succubae like a bit of demon cock now and again. Nobody likes to fuck where they eat all the time. Sometimes they like to focus on their own experience and just let go, instead of worrying about managing and corralling and consuming prey.”

“Oh,” George answered, turning red, politely continuing: “Thank you for explaining, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t fret,” Jacob interjected tightly. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Oh, I’ve always known my cock was—different,” George replied earnestly, forcing Jacob—who clearly knew his own place in the pecking order all too well—to look away until he could control his expression of derision.

“I’m sure you do, son,” Húanglóng exchanged a wicked look with Channah, but managed to suppress his reaction better than either Jacob or Channah, who was snickering as she moved back over to Penny, squatting down to rest on her metal cage, the burning warmth of her fireplace surely as obvious to her toy girl as the pressure she was exerting.

Sliding back and forth to tease the girl, and herself, she snapped: “Toes!” as she began purring and dripping the doubly-spiked wine onto Húanglóng’s toes so it rolled over and off them onto Penny’s worshipful tongue and into Penny’s adoring mouth. Penny, for her part, made Channah’s experience perfect by obeying her, choking and sputtering in shock at the strength of the brew, without interrupting her assigned task. “My love, as much as it may irritate me how easily seduction and domination come to you, I’m most grateful you have such a way of shutting up my little Meoto here.” Then she switched to her baby-talk voice: “That’s the way, little Meoto, shut up and drink up for Mommy, while you please your Daddy.”

“‘Meoto’?!” Húanglóng asked. “That’s… Korean?”

“Japanese. For effeminate chatterbox.”

“It’s very funny.”

“Particularly because it fits her to a ‘T-girl,’” Channah assured him. “A bigger blabbermouth you have never met. And yes, I mean including Lucifer!”

Húanglóng raised an eyebrow skeptically, then looked back down at Penance’s nearly-naked body under his foot, serving him. “Are you really a little blabbermouth, footsucker?”

Penny nodded earnestly, by now so far under the spell of Húanglóng’s powerful pheromones she could no more lie than disobey the dragon, or conceal her feelings from him. “Yesh, First Husbnd.”

“Don’t you think we’re past ‘First Husband’ by now, Meoto? You’ve been making out with my foot there for about five minutes now, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more passionately in love with my foot. And that’s saying something.”

Channah smirked: “My girl has a bit of a thing for feet, darling. Among her other… many… delicious little quirks.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Penny agreed enthusiastically, as oblivious to the laughter all around her as any audience member tricked into participating by a stage hypnotist might be. “You’re right. This is soooo sexy! I love your big, strong, hard foot, Daddy.”

“Yeah? What do you like best about it?”

“It’s amazing,” she gushed. “I’ve never been so turned on by a man’s foot before. I don’t know if it’s the weight of it, Daddy,” Penny began babbling, slurring and pausing her words around the kisses and licks and sucks she was applying to every surface of Húanglóng’s foot she could possibly get her mouth on. “The weight of it, which reminds me how big and strong you are; or the hardness of it, which reminds me of how masculine you are. Or the smell of it, which is like… I don’t even know what it’s like, Daddy; but it’s—it’s earthy and musky and sexy and—”

“Whoa! You are a little chatterbox, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Oh, you’re not sorry yet, but you will be, when I punish you for marrying my wife without my permission.”

“I’m—I’m really sorry, Daddy,” Penance admitted, suddenly her voice sounding contrite and wavering, almost as if she were about to cry. “I’m so sorry!”

“I’m sorry too, Daddy!” Chastity burst out, unable to stop herself. “We respect you so much, Daddy!” Chastity exclaimed.

“So much!” Penny agreed.

“This pathetic display is better than any theater!” Jacob snarked, expressing what many of those watching were feeling and triggering a ripple of laughter throughout the room.

“Humans!”

“Livestock!”

And the ultimate put-down: “Prey!”

“Which… actually… makes me wonder…” he looked around the room until he found who he was looking for and called her: “Is it—Esmeray?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she conceded, looking concerned.

“Come over here and sit by me.” He patted the bed just next to him.

Obediently, but without being able to fully conceal her reluctance, she rose and made her way over to him, trying to sit a foot or two away from him and stiffening to a porcelain rigidity when she felt his broad hand on her hip, effortlessly pulling her tight into his side, as he frowned in wonder. Even punch-drunk-love-drunk Penny and Chas would have sensed Esmeray’s fundamental discomfort and hostility if they could have seen or sensed anything beyond their master’s feet, or been able to conceive of resisting him. As it was, Esmeray’s strong reaction produced a ripple through the room, all of the succubae and their cambion immediately aroused with the narcotic-potent combination of their predatorial and sexual instincts her conflicted behavior aroused in them.

Esmeray felt her rage and resentment spiking and spiraling out of her control, trying her hardest to use the tricks she had taught herself over the years to maintain her calm despite her urge to lash out at him for ignoring her body language, her very identity and volition, so completely, a feeling she could only barely contain when it finally clicked with her that, far from being oblivious to her feelings—the usual problem with humans and demons alike—he was completely focused on them, and fascinated by them. Only that belated realization enabled her to accept it when he rested his hand over her nose and mouth.

“Be careful, darling,” Channah warned him. “She’s a powder keg. More of a volcano, really.”

“Oh, I can tell,” he nodded, clearly riveted by what he was seeing. “You’re… immune to me! To us—”

“To all demons. And humans.” She laughed: “And even pets, as far as I can tell, Sire,” Channah purred, still amusing herself on pathetic Penny’s body.

“This is incredible,” he wondered, meeting Esmeray’s angry, resentful, nearly-panicked eyes over the top of his hand, and suddenly, really recognizing how agitated a state she was in.

Hastily dropping his hands from her and raising them placatingly, he apologized smoothly. “I’m so sorry my dear… this is such a rare thing… and you’re an extreme case.”

“It’s all right, Your Majesty,” she forced herself to say, no one listening to her likely to believe she actually felt that way—not least because of how the moment the Dragon King released her, she popped up to her feet and moved back from him, regarding him as one might regard, well… a dangerous serpent.

“Does it surprise you, the reaction I produce in most hucows?” He asked, gesturing at the two adoring girls happy to be under his feet.

“Those two… weakling little perverts? Not as much as it would with normal huco—people,” she huffed, trying to breathe more slowly and deeply to calm herself. “But… yes.” And she managed to pack all he scorn of the world into that one single word. “Do they—’we,’ I suppose—all act like that around you?!” she asked, incredulously.

“Pretty much,” the Dragon King shrugged, indicating it was nothing; simply another day in his world. “All of them except for you. You’re quite… disagreeable. But I apologize for causing you stress nonetheless. I don’t like causing stress. I normally don’t.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Esmeray curtsied slightly, trying to express what she felt, which was that she actually appreciated what he was saying. It was a different kind of magic, the oldest in the world: simple courtesy and respect. But not something she had learned to expect from either humans or demons. Shrugging again, the Dragon King continued: “I prefer… getting along with people, the way I usually do.” Then, looking down at his feet, his voice dripping with contempt, especially at the contrast their behavior made with Esmeray, he asked: “Do you ‘girls’ even remember what it felt like to want to be a man?”

“Oh, yes, Daddy!” Penny assured him. “I want to be a man now!” And then, sounding despondent, heedless again of the roars of laughter from around her: “It’s still inside me always. I wish so much I could be a man and I’m so ashamed to be a little girl!”

“Every minute?” he asked, his eyes lighting a bit at the thought.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Every second of every day!” Chastity cried out her pain. “I like being a girl, a lot! Not like Penny. But at the same time I—I’m confused—I don’t know, I was supposed to be—maybe I am supposed to be a man—I wish I could just be a girl and be happy about it!”

“I’m not! I’d give anything to be a man! A big, powerful, sexy man women want and love. Just like you!” Penny moaned, licking and sucking furiously, practically losing herself in the act. “But I’m not what I want to be! I’m just not! I didn’t—I don’t want to be a girl. But I just am! A weak girl. I can’t help it! I’ve never been any good as a boy, I was never allowed—never deserved—to have my breeching ceremony, and all I can think about are women and how much I wish I could make love to them! But I can’t even get hard any more from normal sex.”

“You’ve never had ‘normal’ sex in your life,” Channah mocked her contemptuously, cutting her down as easily as a scythe sweeping through a field of flimsy wheat stalks.

“I mean—I mean to say—I’m so embarrassed, Domina! I mean…” she whispered, not wanting anyone else to hear, maybe not even wanting to hear it herself: “From touching myself.”

“You’ve touched yourself?! Like Onan?!” Channah roared accusingly, well aware she was leading a performance for the entertainment and arousal of her guests.

“In the dark, in my bed—yes, Domina. I’m so—I used to be so horny, thinking about women and their bodies, their hips, their bottoms, their legs, their feet—”

“And you can’t get hard anymore, can you?”

“Not—like that. Never when I’m in my cage. And now I—since you began training me—it seems I can only orgasm like a girl, when I’m on the bottom—”

“The receiving partner?” Channah suggested.

“Yes, Domina,” she whispered, covering her own eyes in shame without pausing in her ministrations to the Dragon King’s feet.

“Pathetic!” Channah spat, almost literally, touching herself with her free hand and hissing as if she’d touched fire.

“I know!” Penny started crying, without slowing down, grunting as Channah stepped on her cage and observed:

“Don’t lie to me, Penance. Don’t lie to your Daddy. I can feel how much you like being a girl.” She emphasized her words with more-aggressive, presumably quite painful, jabs and rolls and tugs on Penance’s little cage.

“I don’t, Domina, I’m sorry! I don’t!”

“Then why is your little clitty so hard?”

“It’s so awful! I—I can’t possibly say, Domina! Please don’t make me say it!” And then she whispered: “I don’t even want to hear it!”

“Oh-ho-ho, but I do. And I’m what matters, aren’t I, Meoto?”

“Yes, Domina, you’re all that matters. You and Daddy—”

“Tell me!” She demanded, working her toe in between her cheeks and up towards her little girl’s hole.

“I—I feel like… It’s hard to say it, exactly… I don’t even understand it!” She wept. “How can I explain it?”

“Just do your best, sugar bear. Trust us. Well—trust our experience. There’s very little we haven’t seen before and even less we don’t understand. Go on,” she encouraged her girl with her probing, teasing toe and her taunting tone of voice, finally getting what she wanted.

It came out as the quietest whisper: “I’m—I know I’m such a lowly worm, lower than dirt, it’s such a relief to just—to just be what I am I don’t know…”

But they most definitely did. The room roared and reverberated with cruel laughter as the vulnerable girl’s deepest and most-shameful truths came out.

“I told you you were a shit-eater, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Domina, but I didn’t understand it—”

“Do you understand now?”

“I don’t—maybe!” she howled in pain, before dissolving into sobs. “It’s so unnatural—I can’t—it can’t be that—I don’t understand…!” She bawled.

“But you’re beginning to,” Channah diagnosed her condition with a spiteful, liberating delight. “Don’t worry, my little Pleaser. We’re going to explore this in depth.”

“Sooo much depth!” Rivqah whooped delightedly.

Channah, barely able to contain her smile enough to keep talking, assured Peny: “You’re going to earn your name even better now, Pleaser, now that I can see better what I’m aiming it. I’m going to drag you through your misery and shit until you look like a muddy golem under my feet! It turns you on to be able to finally give up all that exhausting, hopeless, ineffective pride and hope and craving to be something more than you are, something you’re absolutely not, and just admit to us—show us—what a worm you are, doesn’t it?”

“I think so, maybe—Domina! I’m not sure—”

“Oh, I am,” she laughed richly. “And the better I understand you, the better I can tear you apart, sweetheart. Thank you for this key. Admitting who and what you are—to us, maybe even to yourself because only by admitting it to us, are you forced to face it yourself?—Doing that is what makes you happy because you can actually be yourself for once! What a relief that must be!”

“Oh, it is, Domina, it is! But it’s also—terrible—”

“It certainly is mortifying and, I’m sure, painful and humiliating. As it ought to be. Especially when you’re surrounded by big, real men like my First Husband and other fuck buddies here. But you just can’t help who you are, sweetie,” she mock-comforted her girl, reaching back to wrench her tiny scrotum painfully with one hand, as she put her other hand on her neck in a chokehold, demonstrating her mastery of her slave physically as well as mentally. “And nothing feels better than being who you really are, baby…” she cooed encouragingly, shivering with arousal. “Even though you fucking hate it, don’t you? I bet you’d give anything to be different—to be a man!”

“I do! I do so!” Penny bawled. I wish I could be like Daddy instead of like me.”

“Well… admit that to your Daddy, bitch. You’ll feel better. We’ll all feel better,” she chortled.

“Yes, Domina. Oh, Daddy, truly, I wish I could be like you—I wish I could be you, instead of me!”

Chastity wailed, starting her own waterworks: “Me too! YOU’RE a man my lord! You’re the real thing! I know I’m supposed to be like you, but I want to be a girl! I’ve always wanted to be a girl, for as long as I can remember! Ohh! I can never face my father again. Or my brothers! Not even my own mother!”

“I can’t even face myself!” Penny bawled. “I have to try sooo hard to remember I’m a girl and to act like I’m a girl and to accept my place as a girl and put up with so many pawing men who want to play with my body, especially now that it’s a girl’s body, when all I wish is that I’d been born with the spirit of a man! My hate my penis! I mean I love my penis but—but—but all it does now is remind me of what I’m supposed to be, and what a failure I am! Oh how I wish I could be like you!”

“Wait—now you think you can even compare yourself to me, little pussy?!” Húanglóng asked, sounding surprised but doing nothing to conceal the amusement and contempt he felt.

“I’m sorry! I apologize, Daddy!”

“Because you know you’re not a man, as disgraceful as that is? Is that right?”

“That’s right, Daddy,” Penny confessed, as both girls kept weeping and worshiping and working on pleasing their Master.

“Chastity, I understand,” Húanglóng allowed.

“Oh, thank you, Daddy!” Chastity gushed. “Thank you for understanding and tolerating me!”

“Shut up and stand up in front of me!” Húanglóng barked. “Penny, don’t you dare move or interrupt what you’re doing!” And the moment Chastity was on her feet in front of the Dragon, he grabbed her arm and yanked her across his left knee, pushing her neck down with his left hand and trapping her legs under his right knee before spanking her furiously, a staccato series of blows from his mighty hand that immediately reactivated all her bruised, oversensitized flesh and sent her into tears of pain, multiplying her misery and humiliation. “Dear,” Húanglóng smirked at his First Royal Wife calmly, not even breathing heavily, and without slowing down the motion of his hand. “I’m impressed. You’ve made mincemeat of these girls’ bottoms, haven’t you?”

“I surely have,” she admitted, guffawing with the rest of the room.

“They’re so blue! How weak they are, to have accepted that. I can’t imagine how you thought you could endure a week out here alone with them for company!”

“Honestly—now—I don’t either,” she admitted, standing and playing with herself, leaning forward over Chastity to make out briefly with her husband while their little side-piece took her spanking below them. “I should have known better. Fuck I’m so wet right now!” she admitted, straightening up and stepping back, teasing herself with one finger as she looked back and forth between one crying horny girl desperately worshiping her Master’s foot, and the other one helplessly being spanked like a two-year-old. “Wow.” She shook her head, appreciative and a little appalled. “Thank you for intervening on my behalf to save me from… this freak show, girlfriends!”

“That’s what friends are for!” Rivqah laughed.

Literature Section “07-35 BULLying Cucks for Kicks”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 35 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—5616 words—Accompanying Images: 2176-2186—Published 2025-08-26—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

Stories

07-34 An Intervention to Rescue Channah from Accepting Sexual Mediocrity

2025-08-252025-08-25 admin

*2168 07-34 Asuka supervising housecleaning*

*2170 07-34 Sakura supervising gardening*

PREVIOUSLY: The second long, perverse, intense day of Channah’s, Chastity’s, and Penance’s honeymoon is over. They sleep as they feel: closer to one another than ever before, and more unequal, the internal power dynamics of their relationship further strengthened by Channah’s erotic assertive hunger, Penny’s suffering service, and Chastity’s eagerness to please and belong. NOW:

They awoke to another perfect morning at the top of the world, a chill in the air perfectly counterbalanced by their tightly-snuggled warm bodies, and the Sun’s indirect light from behind the surrounding mountains a promise of coming warmth. The flowers in Channah’s garden were as revived as they, blooming to greet the Sun, the air fresh and innocent as Eden, the joyous songs of birds celebrating the world’s rebirth. All three of the lovers felt invigorated and eager for the day.

Giggling, the girls carrying their Mistress’s sandals and dress, she led them hand-in-hand to the bath where she watched Penny pick up the jar of soap and stare at it. Intuiting what Penny was thinking, she asked: “It tastes awful, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Domina,” she agreed unhappily, reaching her fingers resignedly towards the jar.

“Here,” Channah interrupted her, “Let’s do this right. Chastity—” she handed her the jar while reaching into the water to remove Penny’s chastity cage, enjoying the way her wife gasped and her eyes widened. Then she took Penny’s hair in her hand and yanked her head back and down so Penny collapsed on her knees leaning backward in the water, feeling Channah’s legs pressing into her side. Smiling sexily, Channah scooped up the soap and and barked: “Open wide, bitch,” giggling and looking turned on when Penny immediately obeyed, even knowing what was coming. Humming, she smeared the powerful soap around the inside of Penny’s mouth, scrubbing and semi-choking her. Their eyes were locked on one another’s the whole time, intimate enough to make Chastity feel a pang of jealousy, and Channah began breathing heavier as she watched her prodding fingers force tears to form around the edges of Penny’s eyes.

When she was finished, she held Penny there, half-choking on soap, reaching under the water to confirm with a wider smile that Penny was fully hard. “You’re coming along well as a wife. But I’m afraid there’s not enough soap in the world for a girl as dirty as you,” she whispered, giggling as she pushed Penny’s head forward and down, half-drowning the girl as she finally let her rinse her mouth out. When Penny finally seemed to have gotten as much of the soap out as she could, Channah kept hold of her hair and dragged her backward to the edge of the spring beside a flat rock where she had directed the girls to set her things. Penny was again held near surface level gazing up at the beautiful blue sky and the even-more-beautiful demoness towering over her. Fishing out a Persian hard candy, Channah put it in her own mouth, then leaned forward and down to kiss her girl, pushing the sweet and pleasant mint confection into her mouth as they made out.

Without interrupting what she was doing, she stretched her empty hand out towards Chastity and snapped her fingers impatiently. Figuring it out, Chastity came closer to them with the jar of soap, at once glad and uncomfortable with the strange feeling of still being outside their bubble no matter how physically proximate they were.

Channah pulled her lips off Penny long enough to murmur: “You know how to float?” And when Penny nodded, she commanded: “On your back, then, bitch!” getting more soap and laughing as she began working on Penny’s little nub when it came into view at the surface of the water, pleased with how hard it was. Sniggering, she released her victim suddenly, making her flail to keep her head above water, and teased her: “I’d tell you to take care of that but you might misinterpret it as permission.” Suddenly adopting an innocent expression, she asked: “Do you want me to hit it until it gets soft? Or can you think good, pure, decent thoughts while you bathe the rest of your body so you’re ready for your cage before we get out?”

“I’ll try—I’ll think decent thoughts, Domina,” Penny promised hoarsely.

“Good girl. See you do so. And if I were you, I’d look out over the valley. The way you’re looking at me now, your little stubby won’t be getting any better-behaved. If you won’t fit back in your cage when I’m ready to lock you up, I’ll make it wilt.”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny agreed, embarrassed at her sharp laugh and the even sharper one when Penny turned away sharply to look out over the valley and clean herself, trying to tune that out and the noises of Channah flirting with and washing Chastity.

Eventually, when her companions quieted down, the warm spring water and the paradise around them were too peaceful and powerful to ignore and she floated silently in the water, marveling to be there.

“The birds… don’t come into the house,” Penny observed, when there was silence behind her, watching an eagle soar above the valley in front of them.

“No, they don’t,” Channah agreed happily. “Not birds, not insects, not rodents. Only humans and demons—beings with souls—come into the house.”

“Do demons have souls?” Penny asked curiously, looking over her shoulder at Channah, and then reddened at Channah’s surprised expression. “I’m sorry Domina, I wasn’t thinking—”

Looking both amused and slightly challenged, she answered: “I… think so. Don’t we?” And then, embarrassed in her own turn when she saw their surprised expressions, asked pointedly: “How confident are you about humans?”

The girls laughed before realizing she was serious as well as challenging them in turn. Looking at one another, Penny answered slowly: “I… think so, too.”

Meanwhile, Chastity opined: “Most of us for sure. I can’t speak to all of us.” Then Chastity looked at Penny in shock. “You think so?! You aren’t sure?!”

Now it was Penny’s turn to look embarrassed. “Probably,” she allowed, turning her gaze back upon the eagle. “I think… I feel… I see, I experience… I must have a soul, mustn’t I?”

“If that huge heavy burden you carry around everywhere with you isn’t a soul,” Channah suggested, “You might want to figure out what it is. Or even better, simply let go of it.” And then, with an evil laugh: “And maybe let it go even if it is.”

“NO!” Penny protested, shocked, whirling around and then seeing her lazily gazing back, amused.

Rolling her eyes, she said: “Are you ready to get back in your cage now, St. Augustine?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny admitted meekly, moving back towards her Mistress in response to her lazily beckoning fingers.

Only after they were both locked back up did she lead them out of the bath and tease them by making them dry her off and dress her, sighing with pleasure as she felt their need for her returning and could tell they were feeling the tightness of her bejeweled grip below.

Just as they turned toward the house, Channah paused with a surprised expression. “Hang on… I think we have guests!”

Striding to the door barring the entrance to the honeycomb, she pointed to the ground behind her and snapped her fingers, not bothering to wait for them to kneel before she approached the door and opened it, revealing Miriam and Rivqah, dressed to the nines in tight sheer white linen kalasiris that only emphasized, rather than concealed, their voluptuous forms; high-heeled gold mules; and exquisite gold jewelry that was as striking as a whole, as the individual pieces were subtle individually. They encircled or were draped over or dangled from every part of their bodies, from the tiaras on the crowns of their heads, to the rings around their toes. They were both hanging on the arms of a huge mountain of a man, fully a foot taller than most men, with broad shoulders, heavy musculature covered with softer subcutaneous fat, and a wide fat belly. But who was most notable for the charismatic force of personality that radiated out from him like a shockwave. Complementing the two succubae, he was wearing only a tight sheer white linen shendyt, gold sandals, and his own complement of gold jewelry. All three of them wore clothing the girls associated so narrowly with ancient Egypt that it seemed incongruous on a man whose features and skin were so obviously East Asian, and his air of danger and reckless self-assurance so clearly those of some barbarian kha-khan.

To the girls’ shock, Channah positively squealed with delight, rushing forward and crying out joyfully: “Húanglóng my love!” before embracing the man, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around him and allowing him to whirl in a circle while she clung to him as if she were a cotton doll.

“My beloved Channah!” he roared back, before kissing her on the lips, while Miriam and Rivqah watched and applauded, sparing only brief smirks of withering contempt for the two red-faced humiliated girls kneeling nude and caged on the ground behind their Queen. Clearly not all of her husbands were broken and chastised. Certainly not her first and primary husband, a demon as powerful and distinguished as Húanglóng, King of the Dragons.

When they were finally done, Húanglóng set Channah back on her feet and she asked excitedly: “However did Miriam and Rivqah pry you away from your Palace of Indolence? It’s been…”

“Years,” he shrugged casually. “Possibly decades. I’m not sure. But in truth, I see little reason to stir from my own paradise. No reason, in fact—besides you, of course, my dear. I’ve hardly even noticed much difference being banished to hell. Human vice and weakness still bring legions of the vermin to us seeking dragons, gold, and glory…. and we dragons like the dry heat. And since we, literally, breathe brimstone, we don’t even notice the smell. Lilith and Cain, it’s been… centuries since I’ve smelled the air of Earth,” he marveled, looking at the beauty around him and drawing in deep breaths of fresh air. “Maybe I ought to be a little less of a homebody… but finding the right body for a man such as me? One even fractionally worthy of my presence? Fortunately, your extraordinary and devoted handmaids found me this body, which even has a…” he shrugged, “somewhat adequate approximation of a cock, to wear to the mortal world. A rare find indeed! Miriam and Rivqah, my dears, you have outdone yourselves,” he beamed at them.

“Honestly, happening upon the fellow in Central Asia is what persuaded us to crash your honeymoon!” Miriam admitted.

“It seemed almost like a sign,” Rivqah interjected. “Especially knowing how much progress you want to make with your girls! It occurred to us you could use your husband’s… unique powers.”

Channah considered for a moment and conceded: “You have a point. I have every confidence in my little ceshi. But I’m sure my poor dears don’t stand a chance against the mighty mighty Húanglóng—either in competing for my attention, or resisting him.” Penny and Chas exchanged a nervous, worried look, but didn’t dare interrupt.

“And I admit, when they told me you had locked yourself away for a week with only a pair of eunuchs for company, well, I… I don’t know,” Húanglóng admitted, looking embarrassed. “I did feel rather like I’d let the side down with you. I mean… next you’ll be joining a nunnery!” The demons collapsed in laughter at the idea, but Channah looked worried and anxious enough, the girls could immediately sense how little she liked the image her honeymoon apparently being painted of her by the wags of hell. “I had to come and jolly you out of your funk before the other demons started gossiping that your rebellion had already failed!”

“Nonsense!” Channah stamped her foot with outrage at the idea, trying not to show how shaken she was by the suggestion, with thoughtfulness outliving the outrage and lingering behind. “But you’re right, it is too dangerous to risk making them even start to believe a pair of lowly jawari matter a whit to me. Let alone speculating why.”

“Of course, it’s nonsense!” Húanglóng agreed, waving his hands dismissively, “but locked up in hell, in their own miserable little realms—nothing like my beautiful pleasure palace—all the rest of them can do is gossip jealously!”

“Well, it’s ridiculous. I’ve been returning to exploring of my own, remembering my masculine side for the first time in… years, certainly,” she conceded, before acknowledging again: “But anything that attracts notice to my affairs… especially my wives… is unwanted.” Frowning, she continued: “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

“Certainly, my dear!” And they had another long, languorous kiss before separating, Húanglóng almost stepping back onto Chastity by accident. Looking down, he frowned. “Are these your little cucks? I’ll look forward to seeing what you’ve trained them to do!”

“Oh, it’s early days yet,” Channah admitted, looking slightly embarrassed for some reason. “That was one of the reasons I planned the honeymoon, to catch them up on their training before I put them to work! Without imagining I might be with you! Rivqah and Miriam, my sisters, what a perfect gift this is for me.” Then, her voice becoming harsh, she barked over her shoulder: “Girls, fall on your bellies and suck the toes of your Master and Brother-Husband.” They looked up at her with shock, and then immediately fear to see the intense insistence in her voice and eyes, before blushing, forcing themselves to the ground, and pushing their tongues under his toes to lift them enough to suck. Above them, they could hear Miriam and Rivqah sniggering and clapping with delight as Channah hissed: “That’s the way. You know he’s your better in every way that would matter to a male, don’t you?”

“A little slow for my taste,” Húanglóng opined judgmentally at the girls. “I can see why you don’t think they’re ready yet. But I expect we can help you discipline and train them better while we’re here, if you don’t want to keep all the fun to yourself.”

“So…” Channah smiled mischievously. “Did you have a plan for your visit? Or are we simply winging it?”

“Planned?! Oh, have we ever!” Miriam burst. “But you have no need to worry about it. Why don’t the two of you celebrate your reunion and let us take care of everything else?”

“Awww….” Channah gazed at them fondly. “You two are my heart,” she exclaimed, hugging them both tightly before stripping off her robe and kicking off her shoes, an action Húanglóng immediately copied. “Do you remember where the bedroom is?” she asked her husband.

“It doesn’t matter… I want to follow and watch your sinuous and spellbinding walk, my goddess,” Húanglóng confessed. “Please, lead my way so I can follow!” And giggling, she sprinted for the house, with Húanglóng eagerly—and her wives’ eyes despairingly—following her wide buttocks and long legs propelling her towards their marital bed.

The girls’ view was interrupted before the happy couple disappeared around the corner of the garden path by Rivqah’s high-heeled sandals, as she stepped forward and then bent down, smirking into their eyes as they sheepishly looked up to meet hers. “You two must really feel like emasculated sissies now, mustn’t you?”

And when they didn’t speak, her brows knitted together and her face darkened until the two girls nodded frantically. “Yes, Domina.”

“Yes, Domina, what?!”

“Yes—yes, we feel like emasculated sissies, Domina.”

“Too slow again, but better! How much she must be coddling you! I’m so relieved we intervened before you two completely unlearned all your manners and skills. Why do you suppose you feel that way?” She then asked, raising an eyebrow expectantly while they exchanged a worried look, uncertain of their lines, before Penny figured it out and whispered, turning scarlet:

“Because we are emasculated sissies, Domina.”

“Quite!” she announced triumphantly. “Pathetic! Now gather up your Masters’ clothing and follow us to the house!”

The girls had been aware there were other figures in the honeycomb behind the three demons, but had neither the time nor the permission to pay them much attention before. Now they—seven people, loaded with boxes and crates and equipment—emerged to follow Miriam and Rivqah without so much as a glance behind them, all their senses focused on not tripping in their haste to keep up with Rivqah and Miriam. Four of them were male, three of them female. Three of them were very pale—too pale to be human—and four of them were of human pallor and appearance, although the girls had learned not to make too many assumptions about what they might expect or find. Two of those with a human appearance—Penny was sure—looked familiar.

The girls scrambled to their feet to obey Rivqah’s command.

In fact, when they set down their burdens, the girls could confirm two of the recruits brought here by Channah’s Ladies’ Maids were known to them. The first was none other than their qahramanah, Esmeray, who appeared to be about as discombobulated and anxious about being here instead of training her other jawari as the girls were to have her. The other was, even more surprisingly, Big George, the carpenter of Fensmere. If anything, George was even more surprised to see them than they were to see him. “You—you’re beautiful women now!” he managed, staring waay to long and not quite as delighted as Roger, Cutter, and Martin had been. “What’s going on?”

“Channah has helped them realize their innermost desires, and become the things they have always yearned to be,” Miriam explained.

“Hallelujah!” George proclaimed, immediately and automatically followed by Penny’s and Chas’s responses.

Taken aback, Esmeray asked: “What was that?!”

They looked embarrassed, but George answered: “I don’t know, it just seemed to fit. It sounded like she was praying or—”

“Like a benediction,” Penny offered, when George couldn’t find the right word.

“Yeah, like that.”

The couple they did not recognize had swarthy skin and dark hair, perhaps Turkish like Esmeray, or Persian, or Arab. The woman, distinguished from her colleagues by the fact she was not staggering under her burdens, carried only a long narrow bag in one hand and an elaborately inlaid lacquered case in the other. She carried both of them protectively, it being obvious they were prized possessions she would not have wanted anyone else to carry for her, and seemed interested in everything around her as if she were having the experience of a lifetime. The last was an intense, slim but well-muscled young man, who somehow managed to look amused, bemused, eager, and resentful as hell, all at the same time. Both of them were dressed much as Húanglóng, Rivqah, and Miriam had been, the young man’s sheer loincloth leaving no doubt as to why he had been invited to this particular party, or that he would be a popular guest.

The other three were gwailou, pale demons: a beautiful woman, a beautiful young man, and a fussy old man, all of them, as the girls would learn, Japanese; and all of them appearing…. ‘Pale’ wasn’t really the right word. But it fit insofar as it made sense to everyone who set eyes on one, and there was certainly no better way the girls could think to describe them. ‘Washed-out’ would have been too harsh. ‘Insubstantial’ would have been inaccurate. And ‘white’ would have been outright misleading. Yet there was something about them that gave them the hint of death or absence, and not being quite full-dimensioned creatures of the mortal world. All of them seemed resentful of the pitiful girls they had first found kneeling caged, nearly-naked, and largely ignored on the ground; a mystery that was slowly solved as it emerged they had been brought here to do the tedious domestic chores Channah had planned for her girls, so the girls could be impressed to serve Miriam’s and Rivqah’s wicked, and presumably less boring, purposes instead.

The woman, who they would learn was actually a succubus named Tiferet, followed the happy couple up the stairs, still carrying her bag and case.

Miriam instructed the humans and gwailou while Rivqah disappeared into the supply room. After they had put the kitchen supplies in the kitchen, and the other supplies in the storeroom, Miriam commanded: “Asuka, clean the house! And stay away from the succubae. None of us want to be bothered with servants today.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the old man bowed, something unpleasant and resistant shimmering across his face but almost immediately suppressed, before he half-slunk out of sight, half-winked out of their awareness.

“Sakura, tend to the garden and also stay away from the guests—make it perfect!”

“Yes, Mistress,” the beautiful young man bowed, his jaw set, disappearing with much the same strange combination of normal movement and magic as Asuka.

“Esmeray, the girls are already in their leathers but we want them leashed, with their wrists bound in front of them and their legs hobbled, before you bring them up. But first, you girls, help and obey Haruka prepare drinks and food for us. Unquestioningly and immediately.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the beautiful pale woman and her crew of helpers curtsied before their Domina, having nowhere to go from the kitchen they were already standing in.

“When Haruka has given you everything to bring up to us and tells you you’re done in the kitchen, Esmeray, lead your jawari up to us and kneel with them, watching and learning in respectful silence until and unless you’re called on. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Domina!” The three of them responded.

“Excellent!”

“And, needless to say, Haruka, nobody wants to see you, either,” Rivqah added as she breezed back into the kitchen, carrying the two lacquered boxes from among Fang’s wedding presents to Channah and smirking significantly at the girls. George, sounding confused, asked: “What would you like me to do, Mistresses?”

The two succubae exchanged an excited glance and broke out laughing as they took his huge hands in theirs. “You’re coming with Jacob and us to join the adults! We’ve heard some rumors about you that we’re most eager to confirm!” And they began leading him up the stairs, followed by the other young man, it taking a minute for George to work out what they were talking about and start grinning. Behind them, Esmeray looked relieved to have been left behind; while Penny and Chastity looked crushed.

Until Haruka, already crabby with the two girls for what was—from her point of view—their privileged status, walked between them, grabbing and holding their ears in unecessarily tight pinches that made them whine, and led them to the stove.

Literature Section “07-34 An Intervention to Rescue Channah from Accepting Sexual Mediocrity”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 34 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—3764 words—Accompanying Images: 2168-2175—Published 2025-08-25—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

Stories

07-33 The Kiss of Shame (abridged version)

2025-08-172025-08-25 admin

2158 07-33 Channah’s “ScorpiosKiss” profile on eHarmony

2159 07-33 Channah’s “Verybadgirl666” public profile photo on Tinder

2160 07-33 Channah’s “Man’s Ruin” public profile photo on Match.com

2161 07-33 Channah’s “DevoutSubmissiveMary” profile pic on ChristianMingle.com

2162 07-33 Channah’s “HardWorkingObedientBreeder” profile pic on SecondWife.com

2163 07-33 Channah’s “UsefulObedientUnicorn” profile pic on SecondWife.com image

2164 07-33 Fang’s “FreeLovePartyGirl” profile on Jiayuan.com

2165 07-33 Fang’s “ZeroBridePriceAllWorkersCompanion” profile photo on Jiayuan.com

*2166 07-33 a succubus catfishing as “BayouBassBeauty” on PlentyofFish.com*

CAUTION: Contains themes of sin and self-destructiveness some readers may find disturbing (even the abridged version).

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, prostatestimulation, cleanup, orgasm, and consensualnonconsent, themes at 07-33X The Kiss of Shame at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning in Channah’s secret tropical paradise. An otherwise pleasant, fascinating, and companionable dinner ends with a sharp reminder of her wives’ status as her abject slaves—and heats up as Channah persuades Penny she was made and born to be the adoring slave of an evil bitch princess like her. NOW:

Penance’s surrender to Channah’s will, as always, followed her surrender to her own passions, which Channah commanded and orchestrated with the skill of a grand maestro. Soon, kneeling between Channah’s legs, on the floor before her seat, Penny, vulnerable and naked but for her bonds and slave tack, hugged her tightly with her face buried in Channah’s belly and crotch, kissing her through her dress and professing, over and over, her hopeless exaltation of and affection for a demoness Queen of Hell; while Chastity, Penny’s companion, similarly vulnerable, knelt behind Penny hugging Channah’s legs and Penny’s shoulders.

Recognizing opportunity when she saw it, and desire when she felt it, Channah gasped involuntarily, deliberately inflaming both girls’ already-alcohol-lubricated passions with her touch before daring the momentary interruption required to withdraw her hands, lift Penny’s shoulders slightly off her, and stagger to her feet, growling: “Come! Follow me, pup!” while grabbing Penny’s hair and pulling her mercilessly, forcing her to scramble in her hands and knees to keep up, with Chastity trailing like a lost pup behind her. Obediently crawling behind Her, on hands and knees over the hard stone floor, unable or unwilling to ask for or demand any better treatment, instead accepting the hard yanking of her hand gripping Penny’s long hair and setting an unreasonable, biped pace for her meek, servile, crawling slave, made Penny blush with the reality of how pathetic and abject a thing she had become for her pushy, demanding Master. She felt her cheeks burn with the shame of allowing herself to be degraded, and indeed participating in her own degradation, for her Domina’s glorification or simple convenience. And behind her, semi-neglected, trailing behind because she had nowhere else to go and just hoped for any stray attention she could get from either one of the deeply-entangled people her heart ached for, afterthought Chastity felt like the lowest and loneliest loser in the world.

Channah walked to a wide, comfortable lounge chair piled with pillows against a wall facing the garden, throwing a wide pillow practically large enough to be a mattress to the ground in front of the divan and dragging Penny to kneel on top of it before her as she plumped down with a pleased sigh onto the lounge proper, continuing to hold Penny’s hair in one hand, head tipped up to look straight at her, feeding her girl’s desire and whipping it to a frenzy through the connection between them. With her other hand, she swept the panels of her dress to the sides, snorting at Penny’s surprise and obvious arousal at suddenly facing her bare, warm body. “Both of you look,” she commanded, using her other hand to spread herself. “Look! Don’t be slow and make me interrupt us with a lengthy lesson. Penance, you know you are ignorant of all things female; even of your own new body. But I’m sure you want to learn, everything you can, don’t you honey?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny nodded earnestly, her eyes wide, miserably embarrassed at being called out on her inexperience, which she worried her two companions looked down on her for. As if they didn’t already have enough reason to despise her for her weakness and softness. But around her Domina, especially so close to her magnificent, warm body, the physical manifestation of she who Penny adored so much, she couldn’t even think straight. Like a planet shaken to pieces or a star shredded by a more-powerful, larger-gravity body in space, the tidal force of her was greater than Penny’s own sense of self, so overwhelming her in proximity, Channah destroyed Penny’s own ability to know herself, eclipsing her very identity with her greatness and splendor. Penny understood, as never before, that someone as ephemeral and insubstantial as herself could not even exist in such proximity to a greater existence; let alone shine or be seen in the light-shadow of her radiant, overwhelming magnificence. How, Penny marveled, could nothing resist everything when it negated and absorbed and outshone Penny’s very existence? Manifestly, it seemed to Penny, it could not; why would it even try? She felt almost that she shouldn’t exist, something as paltry and ghostly as she was; a mere shadow of her Domina. How dare she insult her goddess by even thinking of herself as something separate or unique? At the same time, as her very identity was occulted, her passions and awareness narrowed and sharpened, taking her first clear, fully-awed, considered look in full light at her Domina’s—or any woman’s—sex. Even as her conscious mind, such as it still was, tried to comprehend the holy shrine she had been given to gaze upon, what it was, what it meant, her animal brain and instincts raced into it at the speed of a galloping horse, shuddering and literally even salivating at the very sight of it whether she understood anything about it or not. She was barely even aware of how electrified she was by the faintest, faintest whiff of her aroused Domina’s orchid, and the moisture gathering like dew at the root of her. Penny’s eyes and lips fell slack and passive with a sense of connection and importance that overwhelmed them and rendered them as passive and accepting as Channah rendered Penny’s very soul.

Behind Penny, the sad nearly-forgotten shadow of her two companions, came Chastity. If Penny was pulled in too closely and tightly, Chastity was ignored; a distant planet, beyond even the orbit of Jupiter, not even visible to two sets of eyes locked upon one another. A lonely planet or asteroid with so little significance, it tumbled invisibly and undetectably in the unimaginable depth of space, wishing if only it could be embraced and torn apart by the tidal force of love! If Penny was shredded and annihilated by her union with Channah, Chastity felt the incomparable pain of irrelevance, so far removed from her own center of gravity she was neglected and might as well not even exist. But staring, helplessly and desperately, at the same Sun as Penny, each of them powerless and disempowered by their sun goddess in their own way.

The Sun was speaking, and her captive bodies hung helplessly on her very words: “So I know you will attend carefully and remember every word. Chastity—you are not such a stranger to women, but even so, people—especially young people like you’ve probably lain with before the succubae—are stupid and ignorant and dishonest, and sometimes they’re different from one another. So listen to me well because I will hold you accountable for knowing the truth, and what works for me—not whatever little bits of wisdom you may imagine you may have gleaned from your previous partners.”

“Yes, Domina,” Chastity agreed, swallowing nervously and understanding her message.

“Everything down here, every part of my body, like yours, is sensual and erogenous; and worthy of your reverence, just as every woman’s body is worthy of every male’s reverence. A woman decides what her body is. And I insist my body is sacred to all males. Sacred and profane, pure and filthy, consecrated and desecrated, all at once, perfect and balanced, all things I want it to be. For you, it will be heavenly and hellish but always sacred. You will never disrespect it or dishonor it. It will be a heavenly focus of your deepest dreams and desires and male spirit, as it is for all who desire women. Hellish enough it is for men, who I allow and indeed seduce to try and claim it, so I may damn them. Yet it will be even more hellish for you girls because with both of you, always, it will be for my pleasure only, with my most-special place: off-limits to every kind of pleasure you might desire to take from it, ever.” Licking her lips with pleasure at their pained expressions, absorbing and knowing the painful truth of her words, she continued to taunt them: “You will never ever enjoy this the way I routinely command, seduce, and even beg for men to enjoy it.” Both girls groaned desperately and sadly, practically flinching from the force of the truth. Her Truth, now theirs as well, their hopeless miserable devotion pleasing her more. “And for the two of you, it is more special still: sacred, because it belongs to your Domina, and your Domina is worthy of her title: a dominant, demanding bitch.” She shook Penny’s hair, a little roughly, jutting her jaw out, challenging her to object. “Just the way you like it, submissive little bitch. You see—” she indicated with her middle finger. “Pay attention! Here, at the bottom, this is the most unholy place where men go. To please me you will be expected to attend to every part of my body allowed to you with reverence and adoration; but you—your bodies—are and always will be denied access to this most sacrosanct space. This is for men. The most sensitive spot inside me, as Chastity may imagine she knows, is on the top of my passage, a little bit in. Every woman and succubus is unique, so you must always pay attention to your assigned Mistresses and Masters and learn them, exactly and intuitively, the way a musician learns her instrument. For succubae, because we are thrice blessed,” she smiled coquettishly, “the sensitive area stretches…” another smirk “much further. Neither of you will ever touch or see any part of it; and even if I allowed you to try, you wouldn’t be able to reach it with your little things.” Seeing their agonized but helplessly wanton expressions, she shuddered and groaned with satisfaction. “You miserable little losers. But you need to remember where things are in case I command you to fetch me a toy that can please me in the way you never could—” she snickered. “When you find the sensitive place, you will know, from my reactions. When you care for it and attend to it properly, you will definitely know. So remember to always be attentive to my reactions and commands, verbal or otherwise.”

“Yes, Domina,” they responded automatically, emotionless in response to her humbling words, but eyes never departing her demonstration, both of them breathing heavier when she moaned suggestively.

“You always have to start gently, outside on the skin, and then move in slowly towards the more sensitive places, unless I jump on you or tell you otherwise. Only once I—or your qahramanah, or anyone else you are required to service—is well-prepared and excited, should you consider using a toy here.

“This place—” she moved her finger slightly up “just above it, in the middle, Is my urethra. Sometimes girls like you have trouble finding it. But for you two girls specifically, who are to stay away from my most precious flesh, this is the closest you will ever get to it. Sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly contemptuous toward my submissives and your weaknesses, I may use this on you. Or when an actual man is being rough with me, I may have to call you to clean me up as a side-effect of his attentions. At all other times, it is off-limits to you because it is too close. You may only touch it when I call you to attend to it.”

“Finally, here—” she raised her finger a bit more, to the top. “Is my tulip. Do you know what makes it so special?” And when neither girl had an answer, she continued: “It is the only organ of the human—or demonic—body devoted exclusively to physical pleasure. Your little parts—such as they are—play important roles in practical bodily functions, but my clitoris has only one job, and exists for only one reason: to give me pleasure. In these respects, it is like a sister to the two of you chastened girls. My pleasure should and must be your only imperative, your entire world. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Domina,” they nodded, Penny swallowing and starting to pinken a bit; while Chastity looked like all she wanted to do was to start practicing.

“It will be the center of your attentions when I allow you the privilege of worshiping me. You should eventually—not at first, but eventually—make this your sole and total focus. Again, you will know by my reactions when you are worshiping the right place, and when you are worshiping it with the skill and reverence that it deserves. Do you see?” And when Penny started to nod, before either of them could say anything, she growled: “Then kiss me properly, slave,” using her grip on Penny’s hair to pull her in tight.

Her other hand was now free; and she raised it toward Chastity’s face. Sniggering at the girl’s nearly-crosseyed expression, Channah put the same fingerbetween Chastity’s lips. “Can you taste me, villain?”

“ymph,” she answered, nodding reverently.

“Stand up and hand me the oil from the table. Good girl. Now spread your legs apart… mmmm…. And shuffle forward. Come on! Closer. Don’t be shy, work your way forward, right over your girlfriend, until your knees are pressed between her rib cage and my knees. Penny!” she barked, trying to contain her laughter. “Don’t you dare stop! No matter what you may feel or hear happening up here. Do you understand, girl?”

“Yms dmmn” she nodded vigorously, her voice muffled and garbled.

“What did I tell you? Or have you forgotten already? When you are servicing me that gorgeous tulip becomes the epicenter of your world! The meaning of—for—your life! Now show me what a good and serious student you are while we play up here. Don’t tell me you think there’s some better use to which we could put your tongue or your time? Is that what you’re suggesting?! That I’m wrong?!”

“Nmn dmnh!” came an urgent yelp, as Channah reached down and swatted each of Penny’s bruised cheeks playfully, but sharply.

“You’d better not!” she huffed bossily, just before twitching and grunting with a gasp. “Better! Keep at it!”

And then, with a devilish look up at Chastity, she reached forward and expertly removed her most-restrictive item of tack, enjoying Chastity’s amazed and delighted gasp, and the sudden look of excitement in her eyes. Without breaking their eye contact, Channah—using her legs to squeeze Penny in place—played with Chastity with one hand, -0and poured oil all over her, careless of the oil dripping down onto Penny’. “Three guesses where this is going, lover.”

“Penny?” Chastity answered hoarsely.

“Oh no don’t you dare move or even pause!” Channah barked down at Penny, laughingly, raising her legs and folding them over Penny’s back, driving her high heels into the girl’s flesh like spurs to a horse, even as she shifted her hips forward a bit under Penny, ooching to the very edge of the lounge and getting more comfortable. Returning her attention to Chastity, she answered as if surprised: “Well of course!” Channah laughed sharply. “We both know what a protesting little prude Penny likes to pose as, but have you ever seen her react like one?”

“Well… no,” Chastity laughed, half-nervously, half-excitedly.

“Of course not. She’s a girl! Just like she’s always wanted to be! Now I can’t reach anymore—” she handed Chastity the bottle. “Slather this everywhere. Be generous! Oh! That’s good, Penny!” She waved her hand at Chastity, nestling back on the pillows piled behind her so she was half-sitting, half reclining, and relaxed, pulling open her dress and touching her body as she stared into Chastity’s eyes. “Mmmm…. This all feels sooo good,” she purred, arching her back just a bit. “Well go on! I want to see the show! Wait—hand me that cup of pineapple!” And when she had it, she picked up a slice with two delicately-curved fingers and pushed it sensually into her mouth: “Mm! Good! Showtime!”

The moment Chas’s hand touched Penny, the younger girl bucked in surprise and Channah laughingly bullied her again: “Don’t pretend you’re a virgin, girlie! Or that you don’t enjoy this! We’ve both seen the proof otherwise! And besides, you should be too busy thinking about your duty to me for you to be worrying about what’s going on behind you! Show me—show us—you want this by spreading your knees out wide like a good little bitch. Go on! I’m going to be veeerryy disappointed if—yes!” she interrupted herself, clapping with delight, to see Penny’s knees move and sharing a conspiratorial glance with Chas as she raised the bottle of oil high in the air and tipped it to drop a thin stream of oil to spatter below.

Under them both, concealed from them by Channah’s skirts, Penny felt her cheeks burn with humiliation as she spread her legs for her best friend at the command of her master: not from a proper manly rage at the suggestion, or outrage at being forced to do something against her will, but from the utter embarrassment and shame of voluntarily—willingly—surrendering her own power and autonomy and dignity to her Mistress by spreading herself in this way. And the absolute certainty that Channah’s sex was so sweetly overwhelming, her skin so soft and fragrant, her personality so forceful, and Penny’s feelings of desperation and adoration so powerful, that Penny would willingly—eagerly—do much more than this for her. That Penny could not imagine, in this second, anything she would refuse to do for her Domina. And in that moment, Penny, to her shame, knew and understood what it meant to be a lowly, hopeless, irredeemable slave, defined and limited by the status assigned and allowed to her by her Unholy Master.

“Good girl,” Channah praised Penny with the tone and excess cheer one used in addressing a pet, making circles with her fingertips and purring. “Such a good girl… and your mouth!… oh, Penny, I think you’ve got a talent for this…. Chas, silly girl, take your time! I want to see your hand massaging that oil into Penny’s soft skin and spreading it “Mmmm! Yeah, just like that, slow and sensual… it will make Penny hotter, too! Oh! Penny, baby, I’m so hot… a little harder and slower]—ungh! Chas, honey, slip your fingers in Penny first, running them like tongues around the inside! Help spread her for you like a flower begging a wasp to make it give up its nectar! Yes! Just like that, Pleaser… oh, baby, that’s the way to earn—and own—your nickname…. Now, stay focused on me, keep your mind and your body calm and relaxed, a meditative and worshipful state, that’s what I want for you right now! Meditative and worshipful and passive and open and perhaps most importantly of all, accepting! It’s not enough to not-resist us, slave! You need to invite and welcome and actively admit us! Join in our domination with your own submission to prove your loyalty and devotion with every breath! Be as active and enthusiastic in your submission as we are in our domination! This is what I expect and in fact, demand for you!”

“Meanwhile, allow Chastity to focus on you and do whatever she wants—and I want her to do—with your body. It’s Chastity’s job to pleasure you both; but it’s your job to pleasure me, all the way, with all your heart and soul! Your job is so important, but so simple, I’m going to leave you to it and trust you, baby, trust you to keep your mind and your heart on me, no matter what your sisterwife and me are doing to your sweet, soft little body. You’re hardly going to feel her back there after the last two days so don’t even pretend to be distracted from your duties! Can I trust you, Pleaser? Can I trust you to love me right? To make me your top and only priority and ignore all those naughty, dirty little feelings Chastity and I are giving you down deep in your belly?”

“Yexshnm dmnuh!” Penny managed to sob without any appreciable interruption in the performance of her duties.

“Actually, fuck! Fuck! That’s—ah!—not enough! Penny, that’s not all I want from you! I want all of you, every bit of you—your body and your soul! While I treat you like a rented mule. I need—I demand!—your complete and total surrender, Pleaser, in return for my utter contempt. Give it to me, your total and complete devotion—your damned worship!—while I use you up for my pleasure like the evil bitch I am! Can you do that? Will you do that, for me?!” And whispered, cruelly and most passionately of all: “Isn’t that—amn’t I—what you want? Everything you’ve ever wanted?”

Penny wanted to shake her head at the sheer preposterousness of Channah’s words! The absurdity! They were mad! She was mad to imagine—to think—Penny couldn’t even believe the effrontery of this—this wicked demoness—to even give word to what her fevered, diseased, cursed mind imagined. What she asked…. It wasn’t right. Penny knew this! Anyone even hearing what she said would know it. And it was so stupid! Because—because—

Penny was already kneeling between her legs, under her legs, as eagerly as a stray dog who felt she had finally found a home, free to do so precisely because she had forgotten herself! Allowed—no, to be honest, striven to let herself—forget who she was and who she expected herself to be—what God had once hoped for her.

Tears stung her eyes at the cheek! It was… Penny realized, as she breathed in and through the powerful, intoxicating smell of Channah’s hot, sweaty body, her tired tongue sore from all her worship and devotions, her own tiny, inadequate bound thoughtlessly in steel, aching and crushed by Channah’s casual mechanical cruelty while both Penny’s partners expected to—were—taking and using her body for themselves, for their own pleasure and satisfaction, at Channah’s command, while Penny was given nothing except insults and orders…

Penance wanted to scream. Had she not even changed who she was, altered her very body, shaped her very identity, to match and please this temptress?! It was, in a word, unnecessary to ask her this! To ask her to give it a name, to describe it—to hold up the unfairness and the atrocity and the scandalous, scandalous disgrace and wrongness of it to the light for everyone—especially the smug and privileged taker Channah—more especially the stupid, weak, needy, desperate girl who couldn’t even remember who she used to be or what her name had been before, because it felt so distant when she was here where she belonged and needed to be—to see and have to face it!

It was… so unnecessarily and deliberately cruel!

That was the outrage of it! The evil genius of it… Making her weigh, and hate, and consciously, verbally, in the presence of others in the last but lingering light of day, choose the outrageousness and unfairness of her demand! Who—who would be so vile as to ask? And—she knew. She knew, the even bigger and more-obvious question as: who would be so wretched as to give—such a thing?

Penny paused her worship just long enough to bellow and roar like a gored ox, in a terrible, wounded, outrageous-realization-of-dying kind of way, as she felt the pain of Channah’s rapacious needle push through her soul, tearing it to pieces and turning it into some trophy like a pelt. And felt simultaneously, the release of it: the soaring freedom, the peace of surrendering to her better, admitting, most of all to herself, that Channah was her better; and crucially, that she was nothing, that of course she wanted to let go of everything she had been and thought she could have been or should have been, because who wanted any of that? And knowing… knowing the awful truth of it that a proper man, or even a proper woman would never have to face:

She.

Was.

Damned.

By.

Love:

Her own fierce and passionate heart, torching and overwhelming her own weakness and desire.

It was just a fact.

She knew it.

Channah obviously knew it, a thought that still hurt, to imagine what contempt she must feel when she looked at or thought of Penny.

And so what, if Channah was making her own it? Using her own grubby hellish fingers to stuff her vile shit into Penny’s mouth, filling it and overwhelming her, every one of her senses rebelling and collapsing in Penny’s utter failure of will and self, knowing, God help her—no, nothing could help her, least of all herself: Knowing, worst of all, she wanted to choke down the demonic filth of what Channah was feeding her and only. forcing her to take to make her confront the truth of them both, and how and why they went together so perfectly.

She felt Channah gasp, the two of them so connected her better top half understood, immediately and completely, the significance of Penny briefly dropping her mouth further, before returning to the place she had been commanded, dissolving back into tears again, her natural and wretched state before—no, beneath—this—this fucking cunt—that made her tongue feel all the sweeter and more tender to her demoness-goddess’s electrified flesh: “Yes, Domina! You fucking cunt! You evil fucking bitch!” She screeched. She wailed. She screamed and wept: “I do! I will! I give myself over to you utterly! I SURRENDER! Use me, please use me, I beg of you never stop using me, Domina!”

And the second she said it, Channah was gushing and roaring, her eyes rolling up in her head and the whole world dimming around her as she reeled with a delirium near losing consciousness, and delivering her own merciless, devastating answer that would have been disjointed rambling to anyone other than her own heart and lower half that in matters of the two of them, knew her as well as she knew herself: “Oh! You’re—you know you’re—the fucking bitch, girl—boy—you piece of shit! Yes! MINE! Body, mind, and soul! Iiiieeee! The things I’m going to make you accept—you—you—you fucking know it, don’t you, you perverted little cunt? You’re the cunt, you fucking little shit-eater! Now, Chastity darling! Seize your heart’s desire! Take what you want! Ah haa haa haa…..” her cries faded into sensual, almost stereotyped moans as her mind and body floated further and further apart, without losing the vitality of their complete connection, ecstatic in the knowledge of the completeness with which she had destroyed, absorbed, possessed, and owned the pretty, pliant, pathetic thing down between her legs.

And made her victim acknowledge and in fact proclaim it!

There was simply nothing left in the world, not in this moment, not for the two of them, not in that tiny point of space where she and Penance had merged and collapsed from two separate beings into a single dynamic.

Channah hung there, at her plateau, for an impossibly long time. At some point, around the same time her girls reached their own climaxes, Chastity wailing, Penny just sobbing and shaking her own head in disbelief, Channah drifted back to herself long enough to realize she was crying. Her cries of passion had morphed into tears of joy and freedom and letting go of everything because none of it mattered. Nothing else mattered for now.

With a cry of a satisfaction and completeness she may never have quite experienced before, she finally kicked the pillows off the divan and rolled onto her side. “Get up here!” she barked. “I demand it! The—your—Osculum Infame, cunt!” Delighting to hear the shocked sound Penny was able to make even as low as she was, to accept and embrace that, so far from the devoted little good girl she had once been, how far she had fallen in just a matter of days under Channah’s relentless, rapacious influence. “Damn yourself with your own degradation. I want my true bitch, my little demon-slut, the one who knows how thoroughly she has given herself to the Queen of Hell, to give me her Kiss of Shame!”

And she was not surprised—her girls were not surprised, least of all Penny—to find that it was Penny who instantly, almost without a thought, almost desperately, scrambled up on her divan behind her—below her—to yield and throw herself into it, knowing she was the one, and that this was her unholy office.

For no reason other than to give it even more force by spelling it out, for Penny’s abandon was already complete, she growled: “That’s it, you utterly-damned loser. Pull apart my buttocks, sink your face between them into the cleft of my ass, and worship my unholiest of roses! NOW! And you! My afterthought—afterbirth—of a sisterwife, get behind my dirt-eater and use your own tongue to lubricate her the same way she is soothing me, so you can sodomize her again, double-damning both of you while she seals her pact and status! And bitch-Penny, don’t you dare stop licking and kissing until I’m snoring and your little friend has spent herself again!”

Feeling Penny’s abject, villainous tongue, pushing against and slighty into her, as much as the girl could manage with her inadequate human tongue, Channah shuddered with another, entirely emotional orgasm. “That’s right. That’s right. No—that’s wrong. You’re wrong. As bent and twisted as a White Mulberry tree—a fucking corkscrew! You’re—we’re—so – bloody – wrong! You filthy, vile, dire, nasty little boys. Don’t you dare wash yourselves until I give you permission. I want you to sleep and think and feel and in Penny’s case, literally breathe me, breathe the stink of your own filth, and mine, all night!” Stretching her legs out and curling them behind her on the long divan where Penny lay, she enjoyed feeling Penny’s soft warm skin and breath pressing up against her backside and the backs of her legs, with the counterpoint of cool, hard steel pressing into the soles of Channah’s feet like some obscene tease or promise.

Sighing with what she realized must be happiness, the demoness jiggled her foot, a thoughtless, nervy twitch to her, but pure torture to her victim, against Penny’s cage, rattling it and shivering it over the tightly-constrained flesh within it, imagining how tightly Chastity’s face must be pressed up against Penny’s backside in turn, feeling Penny stiffen and hearing her gasp as she briefly felt the same devotion she was giving to her Mistress.

“Is your little cage sticky and wet, slave?” she whispered, smiling, her smile widening at Penny’s murmured, delirious, ashamed response:

“Yes, Domina. Goddess. Bitch-Goddess!”

“I thought so,” she smirked with contemptuous satisfaction, melting into the feeling and the thought, her words slowing and becoming disjointed as she began to sink into her sensual, rapacious, revivifying kind of sleep. “After I’m well and truly asleep, deep and still, miles from here ranging the world, Penny can lie behind me, back-to-back with her head against my ass; and each girl can kiss the mess between the other’s legs before you fall asleep. I want you both good and crammed between my back and the cushions against the wall, without polluting a single inch of me with your obscenity.” And she fell, gently and slowly as a babe in a swaddling blanket, into dreamland with the soft, wet, pleasant lapping of Penny’s tongue on her dirty rosebud, and the slight sensation of Penny’s face being pushed and pulled against her by Chastity’s own desperation.

Literature Section “07-33[X] The Kiss of Shame”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 33 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 5305 words::Explicit 5617 words—Accompanying Images: 2155-2167—Published 2025-08-17—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

Stories

07-32 Spicy Hot Dangerous Eating in Mesoamerica

2025-08-112025-08-11 admin

*2152 07-32 You wanna play with fire? Then come play with me…*

Additional image containing cannibalistic themes at 07-32X Spicy Hot Dangerous Eating in Mesoamerica at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise. After a round of rough angry sex leaving her girls feeling compliant and adoring, and sending the girls to do chores while she worked, her girls have prepared dinner. NOW:

Channah took her girls, Chastity and Penance, by their hands and led them to the dining room. “Oh, that’s lovely!” she beamed, leading them to her seat at the head of the table, facing the garden, and then pausing expectantly. The girls dropped her hands and pulled her chair back from the table for her, then once she had sat, pushed her back in.

Penny laid her napkin in her nap, apologizing: “I’m sorry, Domina, we hope you are pleased with the food. We didn’t—we aren’t even sure what most of this is!” while Chastity poured her wine, looking surprised and concerned when she caught the smell from the bottle.

Channah laughed: “It’s not really ‘wine,’ is it?” she teased. “Because they don’t have grapes here—yet—it’s made from cacti!” Then she waved a hand dismissively. “That’s right, you don’t even know what those are. A plant that needs so little water it can grow in the desert! This is the most-exotic drink I’ve ever tasted, anywhere in the world, blended with chocolate, honey, and chili pepper. Hmm…” she mused happily. “Thank you, girls, you’re caring for me so well. Part of me would love to have you remain as my servants while I eat, and part of me would like you both to kneel under the table where you belong, but the truth is, I want to see your pretty faces and enjoy your pleasant company this evening. And picnic food is perfect for that. So please,” she captured a hand from each of them and squeezed it, “For tonight, sit on either side of me here.”

“Thank you, Domina,” Chastity answered, followed by Penny, as they sat.

“And the food looks wonderful! There are plenty of European ingredients for you girls to cook with later in the week, but to welcome you to this new world, I asked cook to prepare a feast of Aztec food. Things most Europeans still haven’t even heard of. It looks like the meats are… turkey and duck—maybe some iguana? The vegetables are squash, and the soup and bread are maize—corn—a very tasty grain of the new world. And all of it flavored with chili peppers. If I were you girls, I’d make sure to have a glass of water handy before eating anything!” While the girls scrambled to set out three more glasses and to fill them weith water, Channah picked up the ‘wine’ bottle from the table and poured both girls wine, giggling as she filled their cups nearly to the brim. “I know both of you—but especially Penny—are shy about spirits and I don’t want you two falling behind. Because this is going to knock you out!” Raising her glass, she asked: “What shall we toast to?”

“To you, of course, Domina!” Penny blurted immediately. “Our beloved Mistress!”

“To our Domina!” Chas echoed.

“Oh, thank you, my loves,” she did her best—which was not very convincing—to blush modestly as she sipped from her glass, but looked honestly pleased and touched. “Fortunately, in Hell, sovereigns may toast themselves without fear of hubris, so we can drink to me together! You girls had better drink deep to honor your Domina!”

And they did, Channah giggling as Chas bolted her entire glass in one go—regretting it immediately and entertaining her companions with her gasping, choking, turning red, sweating, and the way her very eyes seemed to bulge out of her head as if pushed from behind by steam from the heat generated in Chas’s throat by the drink. “Thank you, Chas, for your demonstration of such enthusiasm and commitment!” Channah complimented her, even as she refilled her glass. “And don’t you dare tell Penny I ever said this, but—” she faked a whisper “—maybe you should drink the next glass a little more slowly. Follow my example, and you can never go wrong.” Looking askance at Penny, who was frowning with concentration and licking her lips, processing what she had tasted and about to set her glass down after a single sip, before realizing both of her companions were watching her expectantly. “Now Penny dear,” Channah growled. “If you aren’t choking at all, it can only be because you weren’t bold enough!” Looking like a trapped fox, Penny drank several swallows in succession, waiting in vain after each successive sip for Channah to stop staring her down, until Penny finally began choking and sputtering, blushing as they teased her for her lack of adventurousness.

“Now, do your best to keep up, Penny, or I’ll put you on your back under my foot with my toes in your mouth and start pouring wine down my leg to watch you sputter like Chas,” she threatened, teasing until she caught Penny’s involuntary pant, dilated pupils, and pink cheeks, and roared at her embarrassed arousal. “You filthy girl, you would like that, wouldn’t you? Fortunately, there’s plenty of time for that later! I want—I demand!—intelligent dinner conversation! Penny, you’re a smart girl. Start us off! And no sex talk! You must drink every time you ask a question and twice every time Chas or I ask one!”

“Tell us what you know of the Aztecs!” Penny gushed.

“Oh, you’re curious about the Indians of the Americas, are you? Drink!” she commanded, pausing until Penny did, although she looked more thoughtful than attentive, before beginning, her eyes narrowing watchfully, staying focused on Penny’s: “Years ago, one of my vassals, a useful but irritatingly sentimental fantasist, brought me a number of unpublished manuscripts from a secret Venetian library.”

“Venice!” Penny reacted.

“Yes, that’s where we found you, wasn’t it?” she teased, pretending surprise. “Who would have expected to find such a useful little English girl—” she paused, thought, and shrugged deciding the word fit well enough— “there, of all places? It was written by a Florentine bureaucrat on the secrets of wielding political power. Most astute. The Aztecs could have benefitted from access to it. I suspect Cortes did. Did you know, this vast land of millions,” here she gestured vaguely towards her garden, and the great valley beyond, “probably larger than all of Spain itself, was conquered by a few thousand Spanish adventurers—hardly even a proper army—with a motley assortment of modern weapons? Their weapons helped.” She shrugged. “And the pox helped them even more.”

“The pox?” Penny asked, looking shocked.

“Oh, yes. I’m not surprised the stories coming back to Europe omit that; not nearly as dramatic as warfare and politics. You know of the Black Death, from the time of Edward III?” Both her girls shuddered immediately. “Something very like that is going on here, all around us, right now.” And even as she saw the fear leap to their eyes, she raised her hands placatingly. “Don’t worry—you’re not at risk.”

“How can that–?” Penny began.

“Because you’re—the Europeans—the source of the infection. Just as the Black Death was brought from Asia to Europe, the Spaniards and Portuguese have brought the pox—and measles, influenza, mumps, typhus, and whooping cough, everything you grew up surrounded by—to the New World. In some ways, it was—and still largely remains—a paradise, lightly-touched by human hands. Make no mistake, it has dangers of its own. Not up here, in this heaven on Earth—the air is fresh, and free of miasmas, which is why Cortes built his capital here—safe as houses, one of the reasons my own palace is here. But there is danger in the hot, wet jungles and swamps along the coasts. So much so, the Spaniards have begun importing African slaves and forcing them to work in the lowlands. Because their own countrymen consider the New World so dangerous, only the most-desperate, most-ambitious, and most-rapacious will come here.”

“But even their plagues were not Cortes’s greatest weapons in conquering the Aztecs. They were—and are—the American Indians themselves,” she confided, gratified by the girls’ surprised expressions. “Yes. This was—and much of it still is—a land of city-states.”

“Like ancient Greece?” Penny asked in surprise.

“Quite! For almost a hundred years, it has been dominated by the Aztec Triple Alliance—more correctly called the Tenochca Empire—led by the city-states of Tenochtitlan, Tetzcoco, and Tlacopan. Although they controlled more land than anyone else—by far—they never completely eliminated their rival city-states. Perhaps they simply couldn’t manage it, but at least partly, it was because they understood war differently from Europeans. Europeans fight wars to become wealthier, or more powerful, or for vengeance. The Aztec and their neighbors fought for all those reasons, but another reason besides: The Aztecs’ adoption of Huītzilōpōchtli, a terrible god of war, the Sun, and sacrifice, as their patron deity. About a hundred years ago, following a great famine, Huītzilōpōchtli revealed to their priests that the famine was a punishment because the Aztecs had failed him; and that to redeem themselves, he required the Aztecs to appease him with human sacrifices.”

“So it’s true…” Penny murmured.

“From that time, their Empire thrived on the backs of human sacrifices. Sometimes dozens, sometimes even hundreds, a day are slaughtered. At the consecration of a new temple, it may even be thousands, killed in their temples, at the tops of their pyramids. The exact manner of the sacrifice depends on the god to which the sacrifice is made, and the purpose of that sacrifice.” Breathing faster, her pupils dilating, Channah continued: “For Huitzilopochtli, for instance, the god of sun and sacrifice, the sacrifice is ritually dressed and decorated, then dragged to the top of the pyramid where their hearts, still beating, will be ripped from their chest and placed in a cuauhxicalli, or “eagle gourd bowl.” The priest will then toss the heartless body down the stairs on either side of the pyramid like so many scraps discarded from a dinner table. Sometimes, to accommodate the number of sacrifices required, four sets of priests will work at once, on each side of the pyramids, sacrificing and throwing bodies down the four flights of stairs as quickly as possible. At the bottom, the bodies land on a platform called an apetlatl, where they might be cremated. But more often, they are returned to the warriors who took the sacrifice captive in the first place, who can either strengthen himself by eating the sacrifice’s flesh, or chop up the body and share it with others to increase his social standing. They would save the skulls for display on huge skull-rack displays called tzompantlis.” She emphasized her point by tossing a half-eaten turkey leg onto the floor as she chewed, licked her lips, and smiled wolfishly, noticing how shocked her girls looked. “My little sweethearts. You can’t even imagine the carnage, can you? The priests and the audience become so excited by it, they stab and cut and bleed themselves to add their own, smaller sacrifices to the gods.” Her voice sounded reverent, before she shuddered and came back to herself, snorting. “A few of them fuck. But the Aztec focus is much more on the literal kind of self-abuse. As limp as my own little girls.”

Noticing Penny glancing, bothered, at the turkey leg on her well-maintained floor, she snickered: “That’s right, Penny dear. It doesn’t belong there, does it? Why don’t you be a good girl and go fetch it?” And when Penny looked at her uncertainly, she barked: “Fetch!” Laughing as she scrambled out of her chair, she added: “On your knees. And bring it to me in your mouth. No hands, except for crawling.” She watched, her breath coming faster, as Penny hesitantly dropped to her hands and knees, crawling to the bone and—with difficulty—getting a solid grip on it with her mouth. Channah pretended not to notice her fastidious girl wiping the floor with a moist napkin before crawling back toward Channah, who was pointing at the ground immediately beside her right foot. Penny sat back on her haunches, looking up at Channah with an endearing, desperate-to-please expression that made Channah wet. Staring back at her with blazing eyes, Channah held her eyes for several seconds before taking the bone back and whispering loudly: “You’re going to drink from under my foot tonight. But not yet.” She clapped, breaking the spell and gesturing to Penny’s place. “Back in your seat for now.”

“In real wars, like Europeans, the Mexica—that is, the Aztecs—gathered every poor and powerless sod they could lay hands on, drafted them into service, and threw them at their enemies after bombarding one another with missiles, while the rich and powerful stood in the rear shouting orders. But in the flower wars, only the best and brightest, dressed as Eagle Warriors and Jaguar Warriors, led the fighting from the front, using their melee weapons to display their individual prowess, meeting their enemies at prearranged times and places in roughly equal numbers like sports teams, and bringing plenty of peasants along as bait for one another to capture and sacrifice. Their enemies could either oblige the Aztecs’ thirst for sacrifice by participating in—and on balance, losing—these flower wars, like European jousts only even more dangerous, against the cream of Mesoamerican soldiery, or face full-on attacks by the more-powerful Aztecs to take away their citizens en masse. After a century of feeding their sons and daughters to the bloodthirsty Aztec priests to buy their survival as a group, you can imagine how much they hated the Aztecs. And when the Spaniards arrived, with just enough force and novelty to unify the Aztecs’ opponents and tip the balance of power, they fought with a vengeance, providing Cortes with the vast majority of his army.”

The rest of their meal passed in much the same vein, learning about Aztec clothing, customs, politics, tribes, history, architecture, food—Penny’s questions were inexhaustible, and Channah’s knowledge of her human prey, deep and vast. Penny was spellbound, gazing at her guru with something like growing awe; and even Chas remained interested enough to learn about this world, in such detail. In England, no more than a few sentences’ worth of information about this new world—which the Spanish considered an important state secret—were even known; and even that was hidden and confused by the much larger volume of often-conflicting rumors rendering all of the stories that reached England, unreliable.

Toward the end of dinner, Chas asked about Aztec sports and games—a subject Penny had left out. After describing Ullamaliztli—the great ballgame played between teams of warriors, often in front of large crowds—and the individual throwing game of Totoloque, she told them about Patolli: “It’s a board game, named after the small red beans used as playing pieces. The players roll dice numbered zero to five, or throw five beans with marks on one side, to determine whether and how far their pieces can move on a board with four arms and 52 squares. Bets aren’t simply made on the game; they’re a fundamental part of the game. And the stakes can be high, like Aztec punishments. Each player has to offer six treasures, acceptable to the other player, as bets for the game.”

“What kind of treasures?” Chas asked, fascinated.

“Anything. Money, valuable stones or metals, practical things like blankets or clothing items, even services or total slavery to the other. If you roll a zero, you have to make an offering to Macuilxochitl, the god of games, who the Aztec believe plays in every game with the human players. The offerings to Macuilxochitl go to the winners of each round. Each round lasts until a player has moved all six of her pieces onto, around, and back off the board; and the game ends when either player loses everything.” And with a daring glint in her eye, she hissed for emphasis: “Everything.”

“That sounds fun!” Chas clapped her hands. “I want to play!”

“I’d love that,” Channah responded flirtatiously, winking at Chas and flustering her momentarily.

“Well, I don’t!” Penny protested, sounding as anxious as she looked.

“Oh, come on, Penny—please? I haven’t played any party games in forever!” Chas whined.

Channah rolled her eyes. “Come now, Chas, you know as well as I do that Penny is a dreadful spoilsport.”

Penny looked wounded. “I—I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be, it’s just that—I mean—‘losing everything’… that sounds really bad! And it’s gambling! St. Augustine says the Devil invented gambling!”

“Please!” Channah huffed. “That just goes to show how little the church understands devils. Those pedantic, bureaucratic, bean-counting apparatchiks wouldn’t even gamble with other people’s money.”

Penny looked deflated. “I’m sorry, Domina, I’m not sure he—or I—used the term properly. He meant—”

Their Mistress rolled her eyes. “I knew what he meant, honey. I’m just busting your balls—metaphorically for the moment—for being such a dull and selfish girl.”

“Please, Penny, would you just do it for me?” Chas begged, immediately making Penny feel torn.

“Think about it this way, little Miss Literal: I bought you from your aunt when you were what… nine years old? Literally speaking, you’re my ‘total slave’ already, and you have been for almost half your life. I could order you to do anything, or order you to give me everything you have, any time I’d like. Wouldn’t you rather have some fun with your Domina and sisterwife, and maybe even get a chance to boss me around—”

“Holy cow, I hadn’t even dared to imagine that!” Chas squeaked in surprise, causing Channah to shake her head slightly in amusement before she continued:

“than be little miss gloomy-pants and sit out the game while Chas and I have fun? What do you think you’re going to do while we’re playing?”

“You’re going to order me to do more chores,” Penny deduced despondently. “I thought—”

“You know what? Actually,” Channah raised her finger to stop her. “I wouldn’t,” she announced, sounding surprised at herself. “You know, I really don’t think I would. This is our honeymoon. The three of us are supposed to be bonding, and that’s what we’re going to do, even if you’d rather go pout by yourself.”

“I obviously don’t want to pout!” Penny protested, so exasperated she made every effort not to laugh. And then added hastily: “Domina! Mistress, couldn’t we do something else?”

“Like what?” Chas asked skeptically.

“Our Liege Lady knows so much—I thought we were having a fascinating conversation!”

“Oh. My. Gosh!” Chas howled, clearly pouting. “I’ve been listening to you do that for hours! Can’t we do something I want to do for awhile?”

“There must be something else you’d enjoy—”

“What?”

“Something, I don’t know… safer?”

“We’re married!” Channah objected. “You’re my wife! What are you saying, that you don’t feel safe—” Channah began, then made the mistake of meeting Penny’s narrowed eyes and paused, struggling her very hardest to maintain a neutral expression, before throwing up her hands and dissolving into laughter. Penny couldn’t help herself from laughing, either, but in her case, when the laughter forced itself to the surface, it dragged her hurt and anger into view with it and she laughed with poor grace.

“Penny!” Channah and Chas simultaneously managed to express their genuine shock at the fierce, raw intensity of the feelings on Penny’s face.

“It’s all right, I’ll play!” Penny was hyperventilating and averting her eyes from her companions, uncomfortable with allowing her own feelings out and trying desperately to cut off any discussion of them.

“Penny.” Channah said, quietly, reaching out and taking her girl’s hand. And when Penny instinctively tried to pull back her hand, Channah tightened her grip, managing to combine her usual commanding tone with an undertone of pleading: “Penny, stop!”

Penny jerked, almost pulling away again before she could still herself. “I’ll play, Domina,” Penny whispered, still looking away.

“Penny, look at me,” Channah instructed her softly, gently, waiting patiently until Penny could force her face up, revealing how distraught she was, eyes boiling with passion and tears. “I love you.”

“I know,” Penny blurted, all she could get out.

Softening her expression from concern to compassion and speculation, Channah added: “And you love me.”

“I do,” Penny managed. “I—I do!” And then she fell to her knees between Channah’s, sobbing, allowing Channah to guide her forward until she had crawled between Channah’s legs, and then to pull her head tightly into Channah’s lap and her embrace. “I—I do love you, completely, with every bit of my heart,” Penny confessed. “But—but—you—you’re such an evil fucking bitch!” Penny half-screamed, half-wept into Channah’s skirts, her shoulders heaving. “You treat me so badly. Why do I love you so much? I don’t understand.”

“Because I love you back, sweetie,” she murmured. “And I love that you can’t help loving me no matter how much you try to hate me. Oh Lilith and Cain, that’s the very very best! And because you need someone wicked to love. Someone like me, who truly hungers for your love and adoration. Oh, baby, I can’t get enough of it, especially because you can’t help yourself. I’ve told you your conflicted, tainted love is the sweetest ambrosia there is, to me. And you need to love an evil fucking bitch, Penny, my darling. You do! You need it. I promise you—no matter what you want to pretend, no content little adoring hausfrau will ever do for you, darling. Only an evil fucking bitch will ever do for you, pudding. A wicked goddess like me.” Cradling Penny’s head in one hand, and rocking Penny back and forth between her knees, Channah used her free hand to pull Chas into their embrace, understanding with perfect clarity how badly and how much her other wife needed to be part of this, feeling her, too, start to cry. Channah held them both against her. She was so overcome—the back of her brain only keeping her calm by reminding her, or promising her, this was the Yoke’s doing, not hers, and that the Yoke was necessary to her plans—that she found herself crying and murmuring sweet nothings with them.

“I didn’t break you, Penny. I just broke you to me. You were shattered already—don’t you see? Long before we met. That sweet, fragile, gentle web of cracks down your soul, so slight it was almost invisible, except as a slight opaqueness. Not even you could have seen it back then if you’d had anyone to help you look for it. But you can see it now, can’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Domina!” Penny howled, like a wounded animal, bawling into her lap, held warm and safe between her legs and under her protective arm and her friend. “But it doesn’t make any sense—”

“It does. I promise you, it always does. But you don’t need to understand it, because I showed it to you,” she whispered. “You’re so beautiful and broken… both of you, in your own ways… you have to know… I have to show you the poignant beauty of you. Lover!”

“Do you really love me?” Penny asked, her fear and disbelief plain in her voice. “Really? It’s not just some trick?”

“Yes, of course!” Chas bawled, answering the question whether it was directed to her or not, falling on top of Penny and hugging her around her waist as Channah, surprised, held her breath to let him finish. “I’ve loved you as long as I can remember!”

“And I love you!” Channah promised in turn, meaning it. “Sometimes—sometimes I think I’m crazy. Sometimes I think it’s the Yoke. Well, it has to be the Yoke, to feel this much! But it’s real. I know what I am, and I know what I need. I know I’m a total fucking cunt—”

“No! No, I’m sor—” Penny began.

“Hush your Domina is speaking!” Channah reminded her, laughing wryly. “And believe me, I’m not apologizing, sugar bear. Far from it. But I’m not stupid. I know what I am. Who else could possibly ever love that? And normally I don’t need love. It doesn’t even cross my mind. Or, I didn’t—or, I don’t know. But when I first came across humans—men—so wrecked, so totally destroyed, but still surviving, somehow still going and capable of shattered, fragmented, irrevocably damaged love, so submissive and undemanding and accepting it tastes just like worship—Lilith and Cain it filled up a part of me I didn’t even realize was empty—hadn’t even recognized existed! It’s what a goddess needs, children! Like water! I know, it risks becoming a distraction—a weakness—it’s not what I am! I don’t think men were supposed to be so fragile and yet so resilient that something so demolished could continue to walk and breathe and love a goddess, not really. They’re meant to love women—an equal relationship with their own kind. Not in the yielding, sacrificing, unconditional-surrender way a goddess needs and deserves to be loved. Of course no healthy being, no whole soul, no real man, could love this. Ravana, even fucking Húanglóng …. I would torture them all to death if I could, and they me. But do you imagine I don’t know a mirror when I’m looking in it? Fuuuuuuuuuuckkkk!” She cried intensely to the ceiling before folding her body down and around them both. “But I love being me, I love it–this—adoration—whatever it is, and I love you—you both—sooo much for completing me!”

“I love you I love you I love you so much I do love you…” she heard Penny suddenly whispering, pleading, professing, and at the same time expressing amazement, or even apologizing—whether to herself, or to her conscience, or to God, or even to Channah, only heaven above could say for sure. Penny’s voice was muffled, clasped between Channah’s legs as she was, her face cradled to Channah’s lap; and there were so many things going on at once it took Channah a moment to notice Penny was not just nuzzling her legs and lap, but kissing her down there, as assiduously and repeatedly and with as much abandon as she was professing her love. They were simple kisses, sweet and romantic kisses, but of course they made Channah want something more.

Literature Section “07-32 Spicy Hot Dangerous Eating in Mesoamerica”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 32 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4406 words—Accompanying Images: 2146-2153, 2154X—Published 2025-08-11—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

Stories

07-31 The Naked Debutantes

2025-08-032025-07-27 admin

*2141 07-31 Have I got a treat for you boys… see anything you like?*

*2144 07-31 Channah protecting her sissies from the Jaguars*

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 angrily and rigorously punished, tested, and bedded her girls before being appeased and sending the girls to do chores while she worked. The girls have just finished their chores, bathed, and are ready to let her know that dinner is ready. NOW:

Chastity and Penance remained naked except for the marks and tack Channah had imposed upon them. For marks, both girls’ hindquarters were fading from bright red towards a fierce brownish-purple; and Chastity’s torso, upper arms, and upper legs, especially, were heavily scratched, abraded, and sensitized, covered with faint but vivid red marks. For tack, both girls wore their Chakra Reins—collars, piercings, cages, twisters, and triggers—inside and outside their bodies; wrist cuffs; ankle cuffs; and the hobbling chains that limited their strides significantly and their hands even more.

In the hall outside her command room, the girls fell to their knees and crawled forward to two of the four supplicant positions shown on the floor. Each supplicant position was marked with five tiles. Four obrounds were positioned along the sides of an imaginary diamond shape on the floor—two smaller obrounds approximating the width and length of lower arms from elbows to wrists; and two larger obrounds approximating the width and length of lower legs from knees to ankles—with a round stone positioned between the two arm stones along the centerline of the imaginary diamond. The obrounds were spaced widely enough to force a tall man to stretch uncomfortably to cover them. Smaller gurls like Chastity and Penny could not possibly reach them, but forced their knees and elbows apart, and their hips and shoulders and foreheads down, as far as they could manage, hoping their efforts would be sufficient to avoid punishment. They looked like frazzled frogs who had been pinned down and pushed to the ground by giant boots. But in fact they were exhausted, shaken slavegurls who had each been accused of defiance, badgered, shouted at, corrected, spanked, terrified, and stomped on by their angry Mistress, until she had reduced them to the quivering puddles of submissive flesh they resembled now; and who had been harangued and kicked the first time they reported to her here, to teach them how she wanted them to enter in the future, while their Domina’s more-important visitors laughed at them.

They waited, disregarded supplicants, quietly and unobtrusively, where and as they had been trained, on the cool hard floor, for the attentions of their Domina, while she met with people who were much more important and higher-ranked than them: her vassals the succubae and incubi, her officers and officials in Hell, her qahramanat, and her mamalik. Here, in her office, or command room, Domina and her wives were outside the bubble of their marriage, where their Domina had made it clear she expected her inferior morganatic wives to behave appropriately for their station, that of sub-humble jawari. Needless to say, none of her visitors were jawari; because she would have no truck with the likes of them outside of their assignments and services. They certainly had no role in administering her Court or her Empire!

Because they entered on hands and knees with their heads bowed subserviently, the tiles on the floor near them were all they could see until she summoned them forward and gave them permission to rise. But from their earlier entries, they knew that like most of her home, the throne room was open to the outside, made with the same colorful carved stone as the rest of it, facing a formal pool in the central part of her garden, although the furniture and working parts of the room were set well back from the edge of the roof to protect them from wind-driven rains.

Channah herself sat comfortably on her throne, an ornate gold affair decorated with the same strange figures and motifs, in the same strange style, as the stones of her house and the gold of her bed and her smaller, simpler bedroom throne. This one, a formal throne of state, sat on a dais rising two feet above the surrounding floor, was flanked with side-tables, was wide as a love seat (allowing her to sit up or lounge to the side as she preferred while conducting her business) and rose in the back to an impressive height—a true throne of command, suitable for the conduct of official business from her mountain retreat. She was regally clad, in keeping with her throne, in formal robes of state to conduct her business: a high-necked floor-length scarlet brocade gown embroidered with golden serpents and medlar fruits, a pair of tall shiny black boots, and a tall, viciously spiked crown of gold decorated with rubies. And she would either be holding, or nestled beside, her onyx scepter, a heavy hexagonal rod topped with a human skull.

All of her visitors appeared before her throne, inside a large and complex magic circle mosaic. The dominant shapes were an outer circle perhaps four yards in diameter, circumscribing a pentagon, circumscribing an inner circle closer to three yards in diameter, circumscribing a pentagram. The circles, pentagon, and pentagram were made of a hard, shiny white grout forming ridges rising an inch or two above the tiles, contrasting with the level greenish-gray grout used everywhere else within the house. And each of the 21 oversized tiles within the larger circle were inscribed in silver. The centermost stone, the focal point of the pentagram, was the most elaborate by far: marked with a serpent wrapped around and riddling through a rotten medlar in the shape of a broken heart. Each of the other tiles was inlaid with an astrological symbol, or a more-arcane symbol of some kind Penny could not identify.

Everything about the circle set the girls’ hair on end and their spines tingling. Despite the care and artful grace with which it had been designed, its evil pattern was irreducibly sinister and jarring. And it generated a palpable energy field the girls could feel when they knelt in their supplicant positions, even though those were several feet outside the circle. There was something magnetic or electric, something warping, that came off the circle in malevolent waves.

The Queen’s visitors came from nowhere and disappeared to nowhere. They were incorporeal—ghosts, the girls had thought in terror at first, until Penny, staring down at the floor below her in wide-eyed terror, had recognized Kadidia’s voice during her previous visit and deduced that they were not spirits. Or at least, not standalone spirits; but perhaps, spirits of her vassals summoned to her in the circle for her to address, before being released by her and allowed to return to themselves.

Finishing with one vassal, a succubus by the conversation, she dismissed them as the girls had heard her do other visitors earlier in the day, with a double clap of her hands and the command: “atrudha!” (Arabic for “Dismiss her!”).

This time, however, unlike the previous occasions on which they had awaited her pleasure, when she had summoned them forward to order them to perform new chores, this time she continued to ignore them. Instead, to the girls’ mortification, she clapped her hands once and called: “min kambiridj-‘arni rujar!” (“from Cambridge—show me Roger!”); “min Sademtsaowah-‘arni ‘iismiri!” (“from Sademtsaowah—show me Esmeray!”); “min tshanghan-‘arni Kai!” (“from Chang’an—show me Kai!”). Things went from bad to worse—from the girls’ perspective—when they recognized not only Roger’s and Esmeray’s voices, but those of Cutter and Martin as well. The Queen’s entire conversation with the visitors was conducted in Arabic, which still seemed unusual to Chas and Penny, who still expected their bullies, their qahramanah, and Channah, to speak English by default.

“Your Majesty!” the five voices chorused, presumably while bowing and curtsying deeply.

“My qahrahamanah. My mamalik. You may rise. Attend to me! Roger, have you found Frances?” The girls, whose thoughts so far had primarily been hoping none of their English bullies would notice or recognize them, knew Frances well. She was another English jawari, only 2 or 3 years older than Chas; and they were startled to hear that she was missing. But they dared not raise their heads or react in any other way.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Roger answered. “Mistress Rivqah scried her position and we deduced she was trying to reach her mother’s house. We intercepted her there yesterday, before she could make contact with any of her family.”

“Where is she now?”

Roger, Cutter, and Martin guffawed nastily. “You asked us to make an example of her, Your Majesty, so we dropped her in the servants’ cesspit.”

“I commend your enthusiasm, boys, but can we be sure she hasn’t drowned? We do actually need her.”

“We tested the depth with a rod and there’s only three or four feet of muck down there. We tied her to a rope just long enough to let her drop in chest-high.” He snickered. “Although we may have given her the impression, ah, she would be left to dehydrate and drown down there.” Cutter and Martin snorted derisively.

“As much as I like the idea of leaving her there a few more days, I think her time—and Eleanor’s—would be better spent training with Esmeray before the ritual. And further punishment is always available in, you know, Hell,” Channah snickered. “No risk of her avoiding what she deserves there. So tomorrow, pull her out, make Eleanor help her clean off. And I mean, clean, clean, clean, first in the creek and then when she can be allowed in the servants’ area, in a barrel of warm soapy water. I won’t have her stinking up my bath at Fensmere, let alone my domain, with the filth of Earth!”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the boys agreed.

“I want you waiting with her and with Eleanor in the Satanikoklus at noon sharp. I want both of them hogtied for transport.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“Kai, inform the duty Timorite at Chang’an that I want her to pick the jawari up from the Satanikoklus and deliver them through the Honeycomb to Esmeray at Sademtsaowah. Esmeray, inform the duty Timorite at Sademtsaowah to expect the girls tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Esmeray responded. “Will—if I may ask—Will Penny and Chas be returned to me before the next ritual so that we can try full rehearsals? Or should I prepare for deeper training with just Eleanor and Frances?”

Something about her manner or gestures, or those of Channah, must have pointed out the girls kneeling on the floor within the visitors’ field of view, because Roger gasped and then burst out laughing. “Wait—no. That’s impossible. Those cannot be our Penny and Chas!”

“They are indeed,” Channah laughed, as the girls’ bullies made sounds of incredulity and astonishment. “Girls, get up on your knees and grab your new boobies for your boys!”

Scarlet and practically dying inside, but in no way willing to risk angering Channah, and mindful of her command to be enthusiastic little sluts for her, both girls rose up, sitting back on their haunches with their knees still spread. Chastity, excited even as she was nervous, artfully emphasized her breasts, pushing them up while she grabbed them at the base. Penny, self-consciously, put her hands modestly over her breasts.

“Princess! I didn’t tell you to cover your tits modestly!” Channah laughed even harder. “I said ‘grab’! As in, show off! Put your hands under your breasts, cup them and squeeze them to make them stretch and swell and stick out further! Go on, no place for reticence when you’re a whore!”

The ashamed girl did as she commanded, to a chorus of rude whoops and catcalls from their bullies and Kai. Channah noticed with satisfaction that Esmeray was able to watch neutrally, only the way she shifted uncomfortably betraying her ambivalence about what she was witnessing.

“Now turn around, away from the boys, spread your knees, put your shoulders down on the ground, and jiggle those big round beautiful bottoms and hot pussies for your mamalik!”

Penny and Chas, whimpering and moaning with embarrassment and fear (and for Chas, just a little bit of defiant excitement) obeyed, setting off another round of even more enthusiastic responses.

“You’ve been training them hard, Your Majesty,” Cutter gushed. “Their asses are so beautiful and bruised….”

“I have, and they are,” Channah agreed flirtatiously.

“And they’re obedient as hell,” Roger growled. “Damn, I mean, Your Majesty, I don’t suppose your offer to fuck them is still open, now that they’re real girls?”

Penny couldn’t help herself: she raised her head to see her Domina, who was looking sly and thoughtful. Desperately she shook her head and whispered under her breath pleading with her Domina—more like, willing her Domina without the courage to ask her—to say no.

Channah shook her finger slowly and sexily in a “no” signal to Penny and smiled evilly, looking Penny straight in the eye and seeing her swallow nervously, before she looked back up at her vistors and asked: “Are you sure? I thought you were too much of a ‘man’ to fuck my little girls.”

“Well—that’s when they were fake girls, Your Majesty. I apologize—I meant no disrespect. To you. No disrespect to you. Sissy boys in dresses. But now… heaven above, they’re completely female. In every respect!”

“Their minds are unchanged. Their souls…”

Roger made a dismissive noise. “I’m not planning to take their souls, Your Majesty. Those are irrelevant. I want to possess their new bodies.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Channah agreed snarkily, as her bullies laughed. “What are you working on right now?”

“We’re learning, Your Majesty, as you commanded, as much as we can about how the manor operates, so we can help you manage it. But we don’t actually have any duty assignments right now.”

“Continue learning until you leave, and don’t breathe a word of any of my plans. When we return to Fensmere next week, Roger, I will make you my Castellan. Cutter will be in charge of the mansion and its staff, and Martin the head of the field staff. Don’t let those titles go to your heads, boys—I’m not picking you because any of you have a reputation for effective management or work habits or dutifulness even good sense.” She laughed shortly and deliberately insultingly. “Don’t interfere in the actual running of anything—leave that to the Butler, the Housemaid, and the other senior staff. You’re to be in charge of…” She rolled the last word around in her mouth, savoring it: “Discipline.”

“Oh, yes,” the three bullies laughed, sounding as if they were hugging and clapping one another on the shoulders in celebration.

“You can use your positions to get revenge on everyone who mistreated you in the past, but only in the context of your duties. Believe me—you’ll find more pleasure in their fear, awaiting your vindictiveness—than tearing up my household immediately. And my household must run well. A scared and miserable staff is fine—delightful, really—but the laundry must be cleaned properly, the house must be kept dusted and polished, the food must remain delicious and interesting, the servers polite—in short, the Sun itself must continue to shine out of my ass over that house, so that my life is as convenient and pleasant as possible, and my guests, from the lowliest deliveryman to the King himself, continue to be awed and amazed by the splendor of my mansion. Do you understand?!”

“Yes, Domina,” they agreed, sounding more muted.

“The reason I want you in charge is for operational security, not the actual operation of the household itself. I’m giving you the three highest positions in the house—after my Governess, Sindonie, who will remain in charge of the noble children, as you can imagine—so you can enforce discipline and security on the household, or at least, all of the commoners within it. Without ever telling anyone there are new rules, or explaining them out loud, you will build and enforce a new regime at Fensmere. A culture of obedience to me, and silence about my business. I’m already aware there are the vaguest rumors circulating out in Cambridgeshire, and perhaps even further afield, about… changes people have noticed to the household. Even questions about me. Well, we’re going to stop that process when you return, so that my Sipahi ranging the countryside can continue to stoke the rumors of demons abroad in the countryside. Your duties for capturing and disciplining escapees will expand from my slaves to include the entire staff and population of the manor and the village. Once someone joins the manor or the village, they will remain there until they are buried, unless they receive my leave to depart. Only trusted staff will be allowed off the premises at all; and then they will be sent in groups. Staff and their families will not share any of the business of the manor, or the village, with visitors or tradesmen, beyond the minimum necessary to accomplish their business. And, most importantly, when the King arrives, our staff will have no doubt about where their loyalties need to lie. I will instruct my tailor in Sademtsaowah to help you dress appropriately for your work.”

Then, changing tone: “Esmeray, as I’m sure you’ve gathered, training Eleanor—and especially Frances—will be different than training these sweet, compliant girls.”

“Yes, Domina. Although I’m surprised… as more-experienced jawari, I thought they would be fully-broken.”

“Oh,” Channah waved her hand dismissively. “In many ways, they are. But they were always trained differently than my two girls. Or, more precisely, my two girls were always trained differently than any of the other jawari. In this generation, anyway. That’s why I wanted you to meet and work and play with them first, so you would see them for who they are, not lump them in with the other rabble.” She laughed sharply, and not entirely nicely. “Boys—I need you to pay attention to me, not my little sluts’ bottoms. Girls—” she bent forward, addressing them, “—Keep your knees on the floor but rest your arms on my dais, straight out in front of you like you’re holding on for dear life, and worship my boots with your tongues and lips!”

“Yes, Domina,” they hurried to obey, seeming to make Channah gasp with excitement at the sight of their distressed, worried, sorrowful faces… and to compel her to ram the toes, and occasionally the heels, of her boots harder into their vulnerable mouths while she continued her conversation with her visitors.

“Why don’t you boys come through to Sademtsaowah with your prisoners tomorrow, to provide security for Eleanor and Frances while Esmeray begins their training. They’ll be kept in the kennels at night; but whenever they’re not locked in the kennels, you’re to monitor and contain them so they can’t get away from Eleanor. Don’t help Eleanor train them unless she asks—it’s her job to be their qahramanah, not yours—but do be of assistance to her however she asks in handling or training her charges. Kai, please find quarters for them near Esmeray. And then…” she shrugged, visibly delighted that she was able to tease at least three boys and two girls with diametrically-opposed desires, with a single taunt. She shrugged. “Depending on how well-behaved my girls have been, and how helpful you’ve been…. we’ll see about introducing my three bully-boys more… intimately to my new girls.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” the three Englishmen laughed celebratorily, even as Penny and Chas, too stunned to even take it all in, buried their heads in their hands, making little sobbing-whining noises too primitive and instinctual to have a name. “Oh! And, ah…. One of you let Big George know I want him to come along with you. My Castellan has a couple of projects requiring his expertise. Is there anything else?” she asked, giving them a moment before continuing. “Then carry on with your assignments.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Majesty!” they responded.

Channah clapped twice: “aitrudhum!” (“Dismiss them!”) and the light in the room changed slightly. Whether it was darker, or the quality of the light had changed when the sterile bluish ghosts had disappeared, leaving the warmer, yellower, indirect Sunlight from the garden alone to illuminate the room, neither girl could tell for certain from her perspective hanging at Channahs’s feet. Leaning forward, knowing she had their full attention, Channah purred. “You girls look so cute and sweet and submissive, sucking my boot tips and heels and looking up at me so sadly and pleadingly. Ha!” she clapped and shook herself with delight. “I think you both know you’re going to have to be very good—practically perfect—if you want to avoid the attentions of Roger and his bully-boys entirely, don’t you? So better suck up your very hardest! And at this moment, I mean that very literally! Open your little pieholes wider, go on, wider, streeeettttcch those lips out and push your faces as far forward as you can on the tips of my boots. Oh, come on… you especially, Penny, with your well-known big mouth! I want to see you swallow half of that boot. I want to hear you—yes! Woo-hoo!” She clapped with glee as Penny—looking like a fish with its mouth stretched by hooks—started to make gargling and gagging sounds as the toe of Channah’s boot started tickling the back of her throat. “PUSH, BITCH, PUSH!” Screaming as loudly as she could at Penny while leaning as close down towards her foot as she could, she fairly seethed with joy as Penny’s face turned red and her throat and mouth began involuntarily contracting in an instinctive attempt to clear her throat.

Resting her chin on her fists, Channah enjoyed watching the girls suffering and debasing themselves to please her for what seemed forever, before her smile grew even wider and slyer. “This is the best honeymoon ever!” she barked. “I’d ask you why you came to disturb your Domina’s important business, but I don’t want this moment—this pathetic display—to end!” She giggled nastily. Setting aside her crown and her scepter in a leisurely fashion, she continued: “If you’re done with your chores, nod your heads with my boots in your mouths. Ha ha! Excellent! If you’ve bathed yourselves, nod your heads. Good! And if you’ve served dinner in the dining room? Veeeerrry good, darlings. Oh! I have a fun game! Without removing my boots from your mouths—or biting my toes!—I want each girl to remove her boot. You can use your hands to pull them off, but your mouth must stay wrapped around that boot, and that boot needs to remain deep inside your mouth in gag-a-bitch position, until you’ve removed it entirely, and I accept it from you. Oh ho ho, that’s cute… look how hard you gurls are working on those boots. You two look really ree-diculous!” she guffawed. “Like a couple of Maltese puppies down there, wearing only your dog-collars.” When they removed her boots nearly simultaneously, she laughed again: “A tie! Good doggies! Such committed, devoted little puppies…” she purred, rubbing her knuckles under their chins before taking her boots and setting them aside. “Penny, your first chore tomorrow is to polish my boots. I want them gleaming!”

“Yes, Domina,” she answered, hanging her head in shame at how Channah was making fun of them.

“No time for your pouting,” she chided. “Worship my feet. While they’re still warm and layered with the smell of leather. I’ve had a long, stressful day while you two have been cleaning without a care in the world. Go on, use your mouths and your hands to relax me.” She observed them, sighing and relaxing back in her throne as they kissed her heels, sucked her toes, rubbed the balls of her feet, and caressed her arches. “Oh… that feels good. You girls are naturals. I may need to keep you two with me to de-stress me at the end of each day… mm….”

When she felt her breathing deepen and slow, she ordered them: “That’s enough for now, sweeties. Now put your arms back on the dais, stretched out toward me, armpits on the edge of the dais, that’s good. And use your toes to brace your legs and knees right where they are. I’m going to put pressure on your faces, and I don’t want you to fold or slide.” Ignoring their confused expressions, she waited for them to move their arms and feet into the positions she had commanded. Then she stepped on their faces with the soles of her feet, relaxing a moment, feeling their breath tickling the soft skin in her arches, while she untied her robe and slipped it from her shoulders. Then, bracing her feet on their faces and her shoulders on the back of her throne, she raised her hips and slid her robe out from under her, settling back down and draping it gently in its accustomed resting place over the back of her throne. Finally she put her feet back down on the dais and slid her hips forward off her throne, dropping into a squat immediately above and in front of them, her beautiful bare legs emerging from the slits cut up to her hips on both sides of the simple tube dress.

“Stand up! Go on!” And when they had, she rested her arms around their necks, with her hands on their shoulders, using them to steady her as she jumped off the dais to the floor. Devastating Penny with a flirtatious look, she flicked her head back towards her dais and commanded: “Get my heels for me, bitch.” Taking advantage of her most-vulnerable moment, when she was stretched forward as far as she could reach to touch and pull on Channah’s mules, she slapped her ass. And as she took the high-heeled sandals from her and set them on the ground, using their shoulders for support again, she slid into the sandals, kissing each girl quickly before leading them towards the dining room.

Literature Section “07-31 The Naked Debutantes”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 31 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4316 words—Accompanying Images: 2141-2145—Published 2025-08-03—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.