The Remainderman (Frank Speech) – Page 5 – Intense character-driven fiction

Posters-Calendars-etc.

07-04-B Actual WW1 & Spanish Civil War Posters

2025-07-082025-06-05 admin

**1938A 07-04 Do Not Tolerate Bourgeois Parasites!**

**1938B 07-04 Do Not Tolerate Bourgeois Parasites!**

**1939A 07-04 C.N.T. National Committee A.I.T., Office of Information and Propaganda (ABRIDGED version)**

**1943 07-04 Gee!! We wish we were MEN We’d join the NAVY**

These images are consistent with the general goals of the original project described in subsection A, but expand their subject matter to include World War One and Spanish Civil War images. The World War One image kind of slipped in just because the subject matter was irresistible. The Spanish Civil War images came in first, because it was part of the same era and geopolitical contests that led to World War Two; second, because I was less uncomfortable making unironic and uncritical reinterpretations of Spanish anarchist images than of communist Russian and Chinese ones, yet I didn’t want to entirely neglect the left-leaning Allies or treat them the same way I treated Axis nations despite the fact I more or less view them as similar to the Axis powers. (Recall here that in addition to their abysmal economic and liberty records, Stalin and Hitler actually commenced WW2 in Europe jointly by agreeing to carve up Eastern Europe. Stalin only moved over to the Allied side later, because Hitler stabbed him in the back, forcing him into an uneasy alliance with the Western Allies.) Third, despite some highly traditional messaging for women in some posters, others accepted them as coequals with men and used images of females as role models to recruit men and women alike. Fourth, I was surprised to discover that the anarchists (and some of their left-leaning allies) had a number of posters portraying people of color favorably. Finally, I have to say the Spanish Civil War posters are gorgeous; I at least find them, on average, more dramatic, impactful, and artistic than their World War Two counterparts, so it was a special pleasure to research and reinterpret them. The Spanish Civil War images are also notable for featuring Kadidia in the full glory of her personality and imposing physical presence. Once I started down this path I generated so many images I loved that I increased the number of posters with her in them, most obviously by including alternate versions primarily distinguished by having different images while keeping the same wording.

Literature Section “07-04-B Actual WW1 & Spanish Civil War Posters”—Accompanying Images: 1937A&B, 1938A&B, 1939A, 1943; 1939B—Published 2025-07-05 to 07-08—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

1937A & 1937B 07-04 The Militias Need You!—2025-07-05. Kadidia; propaganda poster (Arteche 1936); compare https://www.pineroabogado.es/single-post/2014/01/30/carteles-de-la-guerra-civil-espa-c3-b1ola-les-milicies-us-necessiten-2110. Translation (Catalan to English): Les milicies, us necessiten!  The militias, they need you! I loved this image, because it uses a woman to recruit soldiers without regard to gender; i.e., unlike most images portraying women, even strong women, this one was not using female images to recruit exclusively females to female-specific units or roles (or to roles that were traditionally, if not necessarily, female, such as nurses), but to the mixed-gender militias, traditionally a male province. Kadidia is so “photogenic” I couldn’t make just one version.

1938A & 1938B 07-04 Do Not Tolerate Bourgeois Parasites!—2025-07-06. Kadidia, Penance; propaganda poster (Bofarull 1938); compare https://www.todocoleccion.net/carteles-guerra-civil/cartell-catala-guerra-civil-no-tolereu-cap-emboscat-bofarull-1937~x27093049. Translation (Catalan to English): Do Not Tolerate Bourgeois Parasites!  No Tolereu Els Paraàsits Burgesos!; P.S.U. Comissio Femenina  P.S.U. Women’s Commission. This may be my favorite poster of all since the original has a pronounced femdom theme, depicting a fierce woman taking her slinking craven husband by the arm and, brooking no argument, demanding he report for his military duty; which for added effect, was produced by the Women’s Commission of the Unified Socialist Party (of Catalonia). The original wording of the poster was “No Tolereu Cap Emboscat” (Catalan), which translates to “Do Not Tolerate Ambushes.” I changed it because, frankly, the original Catalan didn’t seem to translate clearly or easily to English. Although I can reconstruct how the wording goes with the image, I tried to make the import of the poster clearer, without changing the wording or the sentence structure too much. Again, Kadidia is so “photogenic” I couldn’t make just one version.

1939A 07-04 C.N.T. National Committee A.I.T., Office of Information and Propaganda (ABRIDGED version)—UNABRIDGED VERSION CONTAINING FASCIST IMAGERY AVAILABLE AT PATREON.COM/THEREMAINDERMAN—2025-07-07. Kadidia; propaganda poster (Manuel Monleón 1936); compare https://calisphere.org/item/ark:/20775/bb5768786f/. This is representative of a number of posters from different Republican artists and factions which portrayed fascism as a snake, monster, or beast being battled by lone, heroic, naked or shirtless human. Interestingly, the humans were consistently portrayed as red-tinted (presumably because the left-leaning anarchists, syndicalists, and communists all had flags containing red), and the snakes, monsters, or beasts as green-tinted (presumably because green is the complimentary color to red). I particularly liked the coloring and composition of the 1936 Monleón version so used it here despite the rather boring verbiage which simply identified the source of the image. Having CNT and AIT is understandable; in effect, the poster is announcing these two anarchist organizations are fighting against fascism. The prominent reference to the CNT’s Office of Information and Propaganda is a bit more puzzling; it seems hardly relevant. In any event, other groups such as the Frente Popular de Asturias (“UHP”) had similar posters identifying them as the party of sweaty hunky workers hand-wrestling fascist serpents.

1943 07-04 Gee!! We wish we were MEN We’d join the NAVY—2025-07-08. Chastity & Penance; propaganda poster (Howard Chandler Christy 1918); compare https://www.bonhams.com/auction/30503/lot/68/howard-chandler-christy-1872-1952-gee-i-wish-i-were-a-man-id-join-the-navy/. This image may have been reissued in 1944 during World War Two, and the artist was alive during both wars, but the style of the image and the number of references to 1918, plus the likely retirement age of the artist by 1944, make me tend to believe it was originally a First World War image. I’m actually not a big fan of the original poster, but it was too perfect for ARP given the importance and fluidity of gender, especially Chastity’s and Penance’s. This one could be viewed as ironic or subversive relative to the original, but I interpret the irony here as more a comment on the two characters portrayed, purporting to question their manhood, rather than about the poster or its message.

Stories

07-08 Cleaning Up Penance’s Mess (abridged version)

2025-07-082025-07-08 admin

*2014 07-08 Channah muses on all the ways she can make the girls regret their frivolity…*

Explicit version containing analpenetration, prostatestimulation, masturbation, creampie, cleanup, orgasm, cumeating, and 69 themes at 07-08[X] Cleaning Up Penance’s Mess at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: After a week of brutal wedding and coming-of-age hazing by the succubae, Chastity and Penance are finally enjoying their true honeymoon with Channah, starting with a long and frisky bath. NOW:

“Ohhh, yesss,” Channah hissed with pleasure, sniggering as Penny jumped with surprise to feel her Castile soap dripping right down the line of her cleft, as Channah’s hands moved higher on Penny, getting soapier and slipperier as they moved over her sensitive places, all the little crevices and mounds around the spot her legs came together. Timing her actions carefully, Channah let her fingers dance around until the moment was near, and then plunged in as she used the twister.

Suddenly Penny screeched in alarm: “Domina I’m going to—” and then she squealed, as high and urgently as a piglet, as she jumped and jerked.

Channah couldn’t help herself: She burst out laughing, then laughed even harder when Penny half-rolled over and started apologizing, her face as scarlet as a bloody flag. “You didn’t even realize that was about to happen, did you, Princess? Lillith and Cain you’re eighteen! But you do respond, don’t you? Oh my, you’re even redder,” she waved to signal her inability to speak for a minute, as the two humiliated girls stared at her. When she could finally continue, she panted: “I want to be mad at you two, and I will be, and I assure you, I will punish you for spoiling my plans, but you’re both hopeless. Hopeless!” She gestured at Penny again and said: “Go on! You know what to do! Proper girls don’t make messes everywhere!”

Looking horrified, Penny hesitated.

Forcing herself to be serious for a moment, Channah slapped Penny, feeling her own arousal bubble up. “Here.” She slid her fingers over Chastity and—stilling Penny with a look as she raised her hand again—rubbed it all over her, watching the combination of sheer terror and surreptitious, guilty excitement spread over her face, reflecting her immediate understanding. “That’s only fair.” Sploshing around to Chastity’s side again, she commanded: “Let’s teach you girls a new position. Chastity, wiggle your bottom down to the very edge of the rock so there’s not even anywhere for you to rest your feet. Go on, lift them in the air, you little pansy. That’s a girl. And Penny, crawl over here and turn around with your knees at the other end of the rock so you’re each facing one another’s beautiful new body parts. And Penance Batonnoir, if you hesitate one second with your falsle modesty, I’ll make the second day of your honeymoon a misery I promise you!”

She snorted with satisfaction and amusement as they fell on one another, quickly focused enough on what each of them was doing and feeling, they hardly noticed her climbing out of the pool to collect their chakra cages. Moments later, when she returned, Chastity was moaning and Penny was shivering, her body and her closed eyes betraying the passion she was too shy to express out loud. “Mm… that’s hot!” she assured them both, resting her elbows on the side of the rock by their side and enjoying herself for a few minutes. “You’re much more sensitive there than you used to be, aren’t you, darlings? That’s what it’s like to be a woman. Now let’s put Penny where she belongs—on her back. Start by switching positions.”

She enjoyed the wariness in their expressions, loving that she had the capacity to cause them both concern and arousal at the very same time, reflecting their clear understanding of her power over them, of her willingness to push them beyond their comfort zones, and of her wicked capriciousness. “Now crawl forward, Chastity, so each of you can help the other undo what Penny did. Mouths only! Don’t be shy! Not that Chastity will be,” she laughed at the back of her throat, watching Chastity practically attack her sister, something she had obviously been dying to do for ever and ever. Channah knew her girls, and knew it was Penny who would need her encouragement. So she gave it, stroking Penny’s hair with her left hand and snaking her right hand around the back of her thigh. “Go on, girl, you need to clean it all. I’m not going to let her move until you’re done.”

It didn’t take long for both girls to become lost in their work, each of them encouraging the other to float farther away from the world of accountability and causation to the floating world where only they existed. Incredibly, she saw both of them reacting again, helpless enough before their own hormones, reinforced and leveraged by Channah’s roguish assistance. Massaging both girls with her skilled, talented, experienced, and—oh, yes—magic hands, Channah made a subtle change to the energy flowing through them all, feeding the girls something different from what she usually sent them. It was a subtlety she didn’t usually bother with, blending the pure arousal with a yearning to care for their partner, feeding on the girls’ real and close friendship; and spiked with something akin to a narcotic, cutting them loose from their senses and gentling their logical engines so they tapped deeper into their—particularly Penny’s—subconscious desires. “Oh, yes, I’m going to have to punish you two for being so easy but… I do like to watch, especially when I’ve trained my subs to perform new tricks. And even more especially, when I love them. If this is how you naughty girls want to spend our honeymoon, putting on adult performances for my pleasure, I’m fine with it. But I will take my pleasure from you both, however I like,” she added, somewhere between a promise and a threat. “What perfect little jawari you two are going to make,” she gushed. “You have to be observant and attentive to be a good lover, girls. Chastity, have you been paying attention today?” She began, taking her time, and floating around to watch the top of Chas’s head moving, careful to keep her hands on them, one on each girl, the whole time. The three of them together were enough to make a circuit, one current running through Chastity, then to Penny, and finally back into her; the other running the other way, the two together producing a raw and almost-but-not-quite distressing sensation that heightened the intensity of her pleasure. “Ohhhh…. She groaned, allowing herself to enjoy the powerful sensation. “Think, my rebellious little…” she laughed throatily, hitting on the perfect. Name to both diminish and sexualize Chastity, with just enough truth to make it hurt. “… bimbo. Think hard, sweetie! Use your little noggin! You can do it! What does Penny like? Wait—do you need a hint, silly girl? What does she respond to, more than anything? What is it she just can’t control herself when she experience—” Channah laughed to see it as Chas finally understood, running her fingers over Penny’s soapy hindquarters. With a thought, Channah decided Penny’s twister should help her feel more every time a lover became intimate with her, shivering to hear Penny immediately start to moan.

Literature Section “07-08[X] Cleaning Up Penance’s Mess”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 8 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 1159 words::Explicit 1335 words—Accompanying Images: 2014-2016—Published 2025-07-08—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

07-07 Cleaning Up Chastity’s Mess (abridged version)

2025-07-072025-07-07 admin

*2011 07-07 Actually, yes, I AM the “pool police”*

Explicit version containing orgasm and ejaculate themes at 07-07X Cleaning Up Chastity’s Mess at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: After a week of brutal wedding and coming-of-age hazing by the succubae, Chastity and Penance are finally enjoying their true honeymoon with Channah. NOW:

Channah was severe, but still not entirely convincing as the stern mother figure when she started lecturing Chastity: “Bad girl! You sullied your sisterwife, and your supposedly bestest girlfriend!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Chastity apologized, again whether to either or both of her companions was unclear.

“You’re such a rebel!” Channah tutted and huffed as best she could manage. “Don’t imagine I’m going to forget this! I’m going to have to start cleaning Penny all over again!”

“I’m so sorry!”

“I allowed you to become the woman you always wanted to be. That was my gift to you! And how have you repaid me?”

“It was a mistake—”

“In addition to making a mockery of your own, good Christian name,” (it was all Channah could do, not to bust a gut) “you’ve demonstrated pretty clearly you can’t be trusted without your chastity cage, haven’t you?”

“I’m sorry, I swear!”

“Answer me! Haven’t you?”

“Yes, Domina,” Chastity confessed, her chin dropping in shame.

“I mean, you can’t even take a bath without—! The idea was for us to get clean so we could really play! This is supposed to be my honeymoon, and we have to begin it by locking you up in chastity?! I want you to think long and hard about how you can make it up to me, do you understand?”

“Yes, Domina,” she assured her. “I will! I promise!”

“And to Penny, who’s going to have to clean up!”

“Yes, I’m sorry Penny—what?”

But Channah had already turned her attention to Penance, stroking her hair gently and asking her: “Are you okay, honey?”

“Yes, I’m fine, Domina,” she answered, red-faced.

“But a little embarrassed about what you did to Chastity?”

“Yes, Domina,” she nodded her agreement.

“Well, you can start making it up to her, and to me, right now. Go on, clean her up.”

“Wha—?”

But Channah’s left hand, that had been stroking her hair, was now gently but firmly pressing her face down to Chas’s tummy. “Go on sweetie,” she murmured, coaxing the girl, even as she turned her head and leaned down to see between them. “Come on, don’t be shy!”

“But—but—”

She straightened back up, snorting impatiently and swatting Penny hard on her naked buttocks. “This is something you’re going to be doing a lot of, darling, so stop dawdling. Right. Now!” And she emphasized the point by taking hold of Penny and squeezing so hard she made Penny squeal in girlish protest. At the same time, she kept her other hand on Penny’s head and neck, to hold her tightly in place and, in fact, push her down. “You’re not going anywhere until she’s clean, young lady!” To reinforce her seriousness, she opened her fingers for a moment, capturing all of Penny and wrenching violently until Penny’s screeching was muffled by her compliance. “There you go, sweetheart,” Channah murmured, consoling and supportive the instant Penny started obeying. Without changing position or even pausing, her hand transformed from stick to carrot, her fingers soothing Penny’s flesh even as her subtlest magic flowed into the girl even as, bending her head close to Penny’s, her warm breath flowed into her ear. “I know you’re not used to it yet, sugarbear, but it will get easier. Soon it will feel as natural to you as to any other woman. Well, more so than most, to be honest, because you’ll have a lot more practice.” The hand that had been holding her head down, stroked her hair again. “Such a good girl. Don’t miss her belly-button, sweetie. Good girl!”

Moving around behind Penny, between Chastity’s legs, she heard Penny’s breath rise to a pant, her hips shifting unconsciously as she began to respond in earnest. Pouring the soap in a line up the backs of Penny’s legs, Channah rubbed and scrubbed her calves, her knees, and her thighs, encouraging her to lift and straighten each of her legs a minute so she could soap her knees and shins, then gently and meticulously washing her feet as she sighed and twitched.

“Oh… you’re so ticklish, aren’t you, Honey Princess?”

Penny moaned her confession into Chastity’s stomach, then jerked and moued again as Channah briefly tickled the most sensitive centers of her soles. “I’m going to remember that,” she laughed deep in her throat, then used both hands to deliver a sharp swat to both sides of Penny’s behind. “Now get on up there and do what both of you girls have been waiting for… you do know what I’m talking about, don’t you Penny?” She laughed “I’m talking about putting your mouth on—I mean, even you, Princess, should know how to do that without my having to explain it,” she teased. “It’s the most natural thing in the world. I know you two have been dying to try it out on one another since the moment you transformed, haven’t you?” She demanded, pinching Chastity’s big toe and causing her yelp. “Go on, beg her for it, you little rebel!”

“Please, Penny!” Chastity whined, sounding surprised even to herself, but undoubtedly aroused. “I want to feel your mouth on me! Ah!” she cried, as—encouraged by Channah’s hands, one reaching up to push down between Penny’s shoulder blades, the other moving between Penny’s legs, Penny’s mouth and hands overcame a final, momentary hesitation and connected with Chastity.

Literature Section “07-07[X] Cleaning Up Chastity’s Mess”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 07 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 898 words::Explicit 1039 words—Accompanying Images: 2011-2013—Published 2025-07-07—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

07-06 Bathing in Chastity’s Fountain (abridged version)

2025-07-072025-07-07 admin

*2009 07-06 This must be a happy family in paradise*

Explicit version containing orgasm and ejaculate themes at 07-06X Bathing in Chastity’s Fountain at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: After a week of brutal wedding and coming-of-age hazing by the succubae, Chastity and Penance are finally enjoying their true honeymoon with Channah. NOW:

Before they had even finished bathing, Channah had Chastity writhing helplessly on a flat rock in the center of the pool, like a fish out of water or a sacrifice on an altar. With a final, devastating look, she said: “Stay. And don’t you dare, you know.” Chastity made a strangled cry that caused Channah to shiver with pleasure as, still laughing, she turned to her second victim.

Penny looked much more nervous than Chas, and much more nervous than she had when she first stepped into the water. But Channah knew how to handle her: with authority and strength. She didn’t even try to direct Penny verbally. She simply pulled her close, chiding her instead: “Ap ap,” she shook her head. “None of that. You’re coming close to me for your bath, young lady.” Sensing her embarrassment and feeling her excitement, Channah warned her: “Deep breath!” and then pushed her head down under the water, holding her a beat or two longer than necessary to make her hyperaware of how much stronger Channah was, and how completely in charge she was. Channah was pleased to feel that Penny had sunk below the water and was trying to stay there obediently, trying to be a good girl and cooperate rather than resist. Pulling her up and spinning her ‘round, again like a puppet by moving her rather than by using words, Channah warned: “Close your eyes sweetie so you don’t get any soap in them.”

Channah started by repeating her actions with Chastity, washing Penny’s hair, face, and arms, before folding her arms at the elbows and placing her hands at the back of her head.

“Stay still, just like that a moment, honeypot, while I check on your girlfriend,” she instructed, before turning and lazily running her soapy fingers lightly up the insides of Chastity’s thighs and further, laughing with pleasure as the girl shivered and shook and whimpered. “What a passionate girl you are,” she murmured. “Now be still, be good, and just watch.”

Turning back to Penny, and turning her around so Chastity, by raising her head and looking down between her legs, could see Penny’s face and breasts, Channah pressed up tightly against Penny’s back and bottom, making her gasp and whine, ooching her forward until she stood at the edge of the water between Chastity’s legs. “Doesn’t she look beautiful?” Channah cooed encouragingly, reaching under Penny’s arms to stroke her temples and then trailing her fingers her cheeks and neck and shoulders. “With all that soap on her face, forcing her eyes closed and her mouth open to breathe? Doesn’t she look hot?”

“Yes,” Chastity whimpered truthfully, as Penny moued indignantly.

Channah took this as her cue to grab Penny firmly in front, watching Chastity’s eyes grow big as saucers, as she scolded Penny: “Shush, my prudish little Princess. Nobody’s talking to you, and nobody wants your opinion. Besides… your face does look beautiful, whether you’re comfortable with the fact or not. You look like you—” She broke off as Penny moued again, an angry protest, spoiled by the sharp, breathy sound she made a second later as Channah played gently with her for both girls’ benefit. Leaning down, she whispered into Penny’s ear: “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Domina!” she whimpered, nodding helplessly.

Channah nipped her ear before continuing, setting her chin against Penny’s hair and looking at Chastity again, even as she continued to caress Penny, softly and gently: “We definitely need to clean these, don’t we, futa? Do you know why?”

She shook her head and whimpered a negative sound.

“So we can enjoy how sweet they taste!” Chastity groaned and Penny moaned, while their Master gleefully elaborated: “I’m gonna get soap everywhere… make them slippery and… ooh! What’s happening?” She giggled, Penny’s bright red cheeks obvious.

“Here,” she whispered again, into Penny’s other ear. “I’m going to give you a boost to help you get up on this rock on your knees, okay honey?”

“Yes ma’am,” Penny agreed, sounding nervous.

“Get ready to jump, little bunny, on one…” she ran her soapy hands down Penny’s sides plunging into the water “two…” where they cupped the bottom of Penny’s cheeks. “Three! Jump!”

Penny rose up and Channah helped her settle down slowly onto the rock. Then Channah slipped clockwise around Chastity’s foot and, from her position by Chastity’s hip, reached over Chastity’s leg to take Penny by the back of her head, pulling her downwards. “Let’s take your weight off those knees, sweetie,” she suggested gently. “That’s the way, lay your cheek down on Chastity’s tight tummy and… oh, my, your, you know, are really on top of, you know, aren’t they?” Chastity made a long, agonized groan as Channh’s hand, pressing down hard between Penny’s shoulder blades, ended the younger girl’s instinctive attempt to rise back up off her friend. Chastity started panting loudly, prompting Channah to warn her, trying to sound stern through her amusement—“Don’t you dare, Chastity Batonnoir! She’s not even clean yet!”

But it was too late. Crying out and apologizing—whether to Channah for disobeying, or to Penny for involving her, was unclear—“I’m sorry! I’m—sosorry!!!” Channah held Penny’s chest down, continuing to fight Penny’s efforts to rise up on her knees again. But she let Penny raise her head so she was out of the way. Penny looked alarmed, like maybe she’d done something wrong, and it was all Channah could do not to laugh out loud.

Literature Section “07-06 Bathing in Chastity’s Fountain”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 06 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 914 words::Explicit 1063 words—Accompanying Images: 2007-2010—Published 2025-07-06 (p.m.)—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

07-05 In the Bathing Pool

2025-07-062025-07-09 admin

*2003 07-05 Salamacis finds Aphrodite’s sons bathing in her lake*

*2005 07-06 Aphrodite’s new daughters celebrate their transformation*

PREVIOUSLY: For seven days and nights, Chastity and Penance have been tormented, tested, pushed, and bewitched by the succubae and their human operatives, leaving them feeling rootless, lost, malleable, in need of comfort, and desperate for love. Now, finally, Channah gives them what they long for, introducing them to her private mountain vale. NOW:

Beyond the hot bath, the forest stream, and the washing-pool was a breathtaking vista, revealed between the high greyish-black cliffs to their left and the forest canopy to their right. Channah’s vale ended in a low rise of rock, its lowest point the drain and surface level of the bathing pool. Beyond it were a line of jagged mountain peaks; and, as they got closer, opening out below before the distant peaks, a deep and wide valley thousands of feet below them.

“Remember how everything in the vale looks,” Channah cautioned her girls—as if, they imagined, they could ever forget! “This, exactly so, is the way I want it. I gave my gardeners and servants the week off. Mainly for privacy, so we can enjoy the true, intimate seclusion our marriage entitles us to—something that is among the most difficult things for me, as a Queen, to obtain. Priceless! You cannot imagine the constant attention of flatterers and wheedlers, or the freedom of being alone with my loving wives.” She sighed, squeezing them both as she continued to guide them, past the hot bath and over the stream on a little bridge. “But partly, I confess, because it turns me on to see my play-partners working and serving me.” She shivered anticipatorily, leaving them in no doubt how much she meant it. “It’s almost better than sex, which is saying something for a succubus,” she drawled. “So expect to spend some time each day cleaning and caring for my paradise. Obviously,” she shrugged, “You’ll do the cooking and laundry as well,” she purred at the thought, her eyes dancing. “And I will sit and watch you sweating in the warmth of the afternoon sun. Oh, yes, you must do the hardest work in the afternoons…” she cooed, running her hands over their shoulders and backs. “You simply must…” she bit her lip, and shook her head, as if to clear it.

“But not today. And not tomorrow. I know you sweethearts are exhausted. We have plenty of prepared food to last us a couple of days and everything is spotless now. So, the intensely sexual cleaning,” she emphasized breathily, pausing to kiss each of them, her anticipation making them want to serve her and turn her on, compounding their submissive natures, before she continued, “Will have to wait. A little spicy anticipation even as we indulge ourselves completely, playing with one another.”

Leaving them a moment, standing and staring dumbly out over the chasm in wonder, she stepped to a low chest like a coffee table between two chaise lounges, removing towels—which she set on one of the chaises beside their chastity cages—a bottle of castile soap, and some clean rags; before returning to them, setting the rags and bottle close to the edge of the bathing pool and removing their wrist and ankle cuffs, first Chastity’s, then Penny’s. She helped them and made them feel cared for by massaging their stiff shoulders and arms as they groaned in relief.

“Now,” she smiled coyly at the girls, “Kneel before me. Go on, I have to get ready to bathe, too!”

Looking at one another in delighted but nervous surprise, having never seen their own Domina naked before, despite the liberties they had been allowed with her, they knelt. Smiling magnanimously, she placed her hand on top of Chastity’s head for balance and insolently lifted her foot, presenting her boot to the two girls, who quickly worked it off. When they stopped, looking up at her expectantly, she raised a questioning eyebrow. “And my stocking and garter?”

Embarrassed, hands fairly quaking, they reached tentatively under her skirts to removed them, struggling not to take any unnecessary liberties by touching her skin more than necessary. Then, with her hand on Penny’s head, she lifted the other foot and they attended to it in turn. She then turned around and directed them to the hooks and clasps on her back where they released her dress, Penny gasping as it fluttered to the ground, leaving her only in her bra. The girls nearly hyperventilated at the sight of her bare skin. Looking back over her shoulder at them, and where their gazes turned and lingered, she smirked, enjoying their attention. “Go on! What are you waiting for?”

“Your permission” Chastity explained. “Your command,” Penny answered. As she laughed at them, they both, understanding they should not wait, tried and eventually succeeded at removing her bra. Ignoring them, she flounced into the water, up to her thighs, before spinning around, shivering from the shock of the cool water, and giving them a sultry look as she sank back into the pool.

“Don’t be shy, girls. Chastity, honey, can you bring the soap? And Penny, sweetie, the rags?” She laughed as they scrambled to collect the supplies and splash into the water with her. “Let’s bathe… Chastity first. Come here, darling.”

Pecking Penny on the cheek so she wouldn’t feel ignored, she turned to Chastity and, reaching below the water, found what she had expected. She stared into her wife’s eyes, smiling, until Chastity looked away, embarrassed. “Duck your head to get your hair wet,” she ordered, and when Chastity came back to the surface, sputtering, she was ready, her hands slippery with the Castile soap. “Turn around.” And then she began washing Chastity, sensually, hair and face, neck and shoulders, followed by her arms, humming softly as she felt Chas relaxing and melting under her ministrations.

There was a flat rock, about the size of a small bunk, in the middle of the washing pool, and she made Chastity climb onto it so she could soap her feet, her legs, her back, her breasts, her belly, and finally her clitty and bottom. She obviously enjoyed it the most when Chas did, squirming with nervousness and excitement as her hands moved over the girl’s most-sensitive parts. She lingered especially long on her clitty and breasts, enjoying watching Chas writhe and Penny shrink back nervously. Standing above Chastity’s head, she leaned over her, slowly rubbing soap into and around her nipples while making out with her, their heads facing in opposite directions, Chas moaning and arching her back. Last of all, Channah stood between Chas’s legs, pushing her fingers over Chas’s stiff, soapy flesh, locking eyes with her and drinking up every bit of Chas’s vulnerability and loss of control. She moved with a teasing, unbearable slowness, squeezing and tickling, giggling mischievously. Her delight increased in proportion to Chas’s desperation and frustration, and even Penny became lost in the drama, losing her own self-consciousness and staring with rapt fascination at the drama rising to its climax before her.

With consummate skill, Channah drew out Chastity’s passion until the girl started begging out loud, helplessly pleading for mercy, staring into and drowning in Channah’s sparkling, delighted eyes….

Literature Section “07-05 In the Bathing Pool”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 05 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—1148 words—Accompanying Images: 2003-2004—Published 2025-07-06 (a.m.)—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

07-04 The Secret Garden Mouth

2025-07-042025-07-04 admin

PREVIOUSLY: For seven days and nights, Chastity and Penance have been tormented, tested, pushed, and bewitched by Channah, her succubae, her human operatives, and others, with every tool and tactic available, leaving them feeling rootless, lost, malleable, in need of comfort, and desperate for love. Now, finally, Channah gives them what they long for. NOW:

“You girls have done so well! I know, you’ve had a hard, challenging week. But I’m so proud of the way you’ve handled it! Handled yourselves! Now comes the part I’ve been wanting, even hurting for with you, the whole time. It’s been so… cutting and hard, watching you sweeties go through the trials and indignities of the demon wedding ritual. But you’ve made it through them! And now you will experience, even more than before, the intensity and ecstasy of demon marriage. A deep, special pleasure that requires more than affection to nurture and grow.”

“I don’t have a knife with me, or I would cut your bonds right here. I want to show you my paradise without any remnant of the pain from this world, but I don’t want to make you stand here in the dark while I go and fetch one. So I’m going to take you straight to the bath and free you there. Ooh… I don’t even want to interrupt our intimacy, but I want to make it perfect for all of us…. Let me show you our special and wonderful home. I love sharing this with you so much!”

Letting go of them both, and squealing excitedly, barely able to contain herself, she paused and looked back at them, her hands already pressing on the door, her body arched delightfully, a moment burned into all three of their memories. The girls would always remember her there, their bedraggled fairie queen full of incredible potential promise, self-assured and seemingly relishing everything life had to offer no matter how amazing or daunting, glowing like a saint and bringing light and life to the cold black honeycomb, her perfection untouched by her disheveled state. And Channah would always remember the naked, vulnerable, dependent, hungry, blind hope and faith and trust reflected in their shining eyes, and the raw need and desire for her, her comfort, her favor, and her love, emanating from her two most-intimate victims and lovers.

With a shudder, reflecting her own passion for this place, and her eagerness to share it with them, she pushed open the heavy iron door and admitted them to paradise.

Light cracked through the door first as it opened. There was something clear and almost hard about it, a momentary impression immediately overcome by the excitement and hope of a perfect early spring morning.

The air was cool and invigorating, fresh with life and fragrant with the smell of flowers and forest. The sky was sweet and bright and vibrant, energy practically radiating from it. Before them were vital and verdant trees, vines, and bushes, the encouragement of life, embraced by the solidity and nurturing reassurance of the Earth beneath them and, as they found themselves stepping out of a tunnel in the bottom of a cliff, behind them. The perfect black stones of the honeycomb ended abruptly as they stepped through the doorway onto a garden path made of what their tour guide called orange adoquin stone, perfectly fitted to one another with no visible grout between them.

The path divided immediately. It ran a few yards to the right along the bottom hem of the greyish-black volcanic cliff soaring above them, until—contained by a crenellation in the cliff wall, it was forced to bend to the left and disappear behind the trees.

Channah pushed the door closed behind them, sliding two heavy drawbars from holes in the cliff wall across the top and bottom of the iron door to secure it, latching them in place and making it impossible to open with anything less than a battering ram. Then she moved her hands quickly in the air before the door causing a brief glamour to sparkle and fade, suggesting even a battering ram might have trouble getting in.

She shrugged and smiled her beautiful smile. “I don’t require much, actual security. But I do value my privacy. It is more precious to me than you can imagine. And the three of us are the only people here in my mountain paradise. Do you feel the air? How thin it is?” And she enjoyed watching them breathe, eyes unfocused as they concentrated on feeling their breath in their throats and lungs. “If you don’t now, you will when you exert yourselves. And I mean for you both to do so,” she giggled, touching both their bottoms rudely and pulling them into her sides. “A lot. If you’ve never been at altitude before, you’ll feel you’re struggling for breath until your body adjusts. That will take a couple of days. We’re in a mountain valley—more like a pocket, a cauldron lined with cliffs, high in the peaks, with only two entrances, the honeycomb and a natural cave, both warded to alert me to any potential trespassers so I can know we’re alone and no one is going to come running to me with their problems and concerns. It calms me so much,” she sighed. “It’s the only time I’m really off work, in a way.” She shook her head, contemplating how busy she had been, and for how long.

And then she turned them gently to face the left branch of the path, causing them to gasp in wonder. It was a reaction she had obviously anticipated, and equally obviously, enjoyed. This way, the path descended gently and widened for a few yards, cliffs on the left and the dense, heavy forest on the right, until it reached a clear, beautiful pool in the rocks, fed by an irregular fountain of water pouring from a crack in the cliff wall and draining… well, it was complicated. And, just beyond that, a breathtaking vista.

There were actually three fountains and three waterways, a fact they slowly absorbed as she guided them down the path towards it, explaining, her hands protectively holding theirs. “They’re natural springs. The first one is my hot bath.” And indeed, they could see steam rising from the water where it emerged from the rock in a line with the surface of the smallish pool, a bowl about the size of a royal carriage with no obvious egress for the water. The force of the water entering at its margin caused its surface to ripple and bubble constantly. “The second is the mountain stream that waters my gardens.” It appeared to be the largest flow of water by volume, cascading down a spill of rocks to a narrow pool, more like a water trench or a troth, feeding a stream that disappeared into the woods. “And the third is my washing-pool, which all three of us need desperately!

Literature Section “07-04 The Secret Garden Mouth”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 04 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—1104 words—Accompanying Images: 2001-2002—Published 2025-07-04—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Posters-Calendars-etc.

07-04-I Call to Action

2025-07-042025-06-05 admin

This section moves beyond any reference to specific political figures or competing political interests to focus on the shared values and interests that are at the core of our Republic, and of a stable, civil, democratic society governed by the rule of law.

Either you believe in it and have the integrity to fight for it, or you don’t.

Literature Section “07-04 DEFEND THE CONSTITUTION—Call to Action”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 4 of Chapter Seven—Accompanying Images: 1775-1778, 1783,1789—Published 2025-06-30 to 07-04—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

1775 07-04 Eternal Vigilance Is the Iron Price of Liberty—2025-06-30; Esmeray; propaganda poster. This phrase dates back to at least the 19^th century in the US. Although apparently it was not used in relation to the American Revolution, it was popularized in the context of the abolition movement, a noble cause particularly apt today because it spoke to internal divisions within our society that went to the heart of the union formed in the American Revolutionary War period. It reminds us that we have to strive and that we cannot sit back and leave it to others, or fate, or tomorrow to protect ourselves. We cannot make excuses or hope silently that the current storm will blow over. Instead, every one of us must act to save our Republic, our way of life, our dignity, and ultimately our souls. A citizen pays the iron price for liberty every day because no other currency can buy it, no matter how socially or economically advantaged one is.

1776 07-04 Love of Liberty–DEFEND THE CONSTITUTION—2025-07-01; Esmeray; propaganda poster. How I feel; what I see in her expression and her character. The part of superhero mythology I believe in, or want to believe in, and feel dismayed to find lacking today: a shared respect for and love of liberty, and a desire by people to be the best version of themselves civically.

1777 07-04 América Libre—DEFEND THE CONSTITUTION—2025-07-02; Esmeray; propaganda poster. Translation: América Libre  Free America. Alludes to the Cold War era and Cold War America (“Cuba Libre”), when Americans—for self-interest, and because of their genuine moral beliefs and simple human compassion—hoped for a better fate for another country. It reflects my belief that we do care about one another, nationally and internationally; and we should. I’m not saying it’s clear what the right course of action is internationally, or that we need to agree on it. I’m just saying human respect and support are good things, and nurturing them makes us all better off; whereas tearing down other countries and breaking off ties with them for the sake of doing so, is ultimately a self-destructive, dangerous, and self-impoverishing act. And especially, at this time, when Americans are so divided and our institutions of government are so paralyzed, we should not be disdaining the rest of the world or looking down on it. We should be trying to learn from it—in my view, the parliamentary model of democracy, although faaaar from a panacea, has lessons for us in how to make our politicians more accountable by making it harder for them to blame other Americans for problems instead of trying to fix them.

1778 07-04 Americans will always fight for Liberty… 2025?—2025-07-03; Lancelot; propaganda poster. Compare: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Americans_Will_Always_Fight_for_Liberty. This one is a deep prayer and a call to action rooted in a previous time that required Americans to rise to a challenge, and reminded them then that they could do it because they had done it before. But the crises of the present can only be answered in the present; so we today must exercise our own virtues and willpower to re-earn what our ancestors gifted on to us; rather than telling stories of more glorious days while letting the side down now.

1789 07-04 LONG LIVE THE REPUBLIC! Liberty is EVERY citizen’s duty!—2025-07-04; Young Hellinore, Young Esmeray; compare: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liberty_Leading_the_People. Translation: LONG LIVE THE REPUBLIC!  VIVE LA RÉPUBLIQUE !, Liberty is EVERY citizen’s duty!  La liberté est le devoir de TOUT citoyen ! Expresses the reciprocity between one person’s tolerance and another’s liberty; to live in liberty with other people, we must respect their liberty as well, especially when we disagree with them but can live with their choices for themselves. Expresses that our moral strength is found in duties not privileges and that duty and privilege are opposite sides of the same coin. Emphasizes that there can be no exceptions to citizenship; cowardliness, hubris, and selfishness are bars to citizenship because they prevent one from putting anything above themselves. Expresses that liberty and other human values and interests are universal, and we should look for common ground with others rather than picking unnecessary fights.

1783 07-04 Join, or Die–Educate yourself, Compromise, Be Civil—2025-07-04; n/a; propaganda poster. Compare https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Join%2C_or_Die. Arguably the first American propaganda image, because it was the first known image to advocate for the unity of the American colonies. Published, and apparently conceived, by Benjamin Franklin in 1754, to urge cooperation by the colonists in the French and Indian War, it was influential then, and a generation later when it—in a hundred different forms by a hundred different artists—became one of the most iconic propaganda pieces on behalf of the American Revolution. Its fundamental message is more relevant than ever, today; and the values it extols are as American as they can be.

Stories

07-03 Ready for Love

2025-07-042025-07-04 admin

*1999 07-03 Let’s get this party STARTED, bitches!!!*

PREVIOUSLY: For seven days and nights, Chastity and Penance have been tormented, tested, pushed, and bewitched by Channah, her succubae, her human operatives, and others, with every tool and tactic available to the succubae on Earth and in Hell, with the twin goals of perfecting a decade of training and preparation while bringing them mentally to their current state: uprooted, lost, malleable, in need of comfort, and desperate for love. Having taken them—figuratively and literally—through hell, Channah ushers them now to her paradise. NOW:

Channah was still fully dressed, wearing her customary, splendid scarlet court gown and tall black shiny high-heeled riding boots, the same things she had worn since they left Fensmere and Earth this morning, which seemed like a lifetime ago now. Or, at least, she wore the scuffed, dirty, oily, torn, abraded remnants of the clothes she had donned at Fensmere, insofar as they remained after the orgiastic, satanic rituals at Chang’an, the skyride across the Hell of Lust, their impromptu performance at the satanikoklus, and whatever she had got up to while the girls were tethered in the honeycomb at Sademtsaowah.

Her girls were stripped, covered in so much oil and filth and dirt that they had caused the soiling of her own clothing, Kadidia’s and Esmeray’s clothing, and several square yards of the ritual site. Their bare skin was marked with scrapes, minor cuts, ligature marks, and, more heavily, with bruises, some smoldering and purple, some still fresh and angry and red, from their training and discipline over the preceding seven days and nights. To any observers, they appeared to wear only their collars, short leashes, navel rings, and the ropes binding their wrists. Not readily visible, but certainly of equal importance in their experiences, were the four items—in addition to the roots of their navel rings—buried deep inside their bodies: two plugs in their ears depriving them completely of any ability to see, hear, taste, or smell anything outside their own bodies; and the twisters and triggers that rested, churned, or swam by turns, at Channah’s command, inside their guts. But even with all that, what they and she were surely most-conscious of at this moment, was how thoroughly (with the sole exception of their primary sexual organs hanging as obsoletely as appendices from their crotches) their bodies had been transformed from the male bodies they grew up with to their new, ultrafeminine curves.

She held their leashes over her shoulders, her hands in front of her belly, using their chastity cages hooked to and tangled in the leashes like handles for better leverage, casually forcing them to rest their chins on her shoulders and to awkwardly scramble, their shoulders and chests pressed tightly against her back, behind her. She expected them to accommodate her own brisk and confident walk with theirs, and they were certainly in no doubt about that. She was, after all, their superior. She could feel the tension and stress in their bodies as they tried to keep their balance, keep their soft bare feet away from her boots with their sharp heels, and keep up with her using only their sense of touch.

She was snickering, well-pleased with herself and already teetering on the tingly edge of arousal when she led her girls through the honeycomb and up to the iron door separating it from her retreat.

Gently pushing Penny up against the door, she put her hand up tight behind the girl’s soft hair to protect her from the door behind her, knowing she was about to startle the girl. Only then, did she brush her lips across her young wife’s, refusing to let her pull back as her instincts tried to do when they felt an unexpected touch on such a vulnerable and personal part of her body. Resting her lips softly there for a moment, while her girl calmed down, Channah pushed her tongue into Penny’s mouth, feeling her relax and wondering if she could tell it was Channah once it penetrated past her lips. Perhaps she recognized something familiar about the feel or taste or smell of her, or perhaps even her kissing style. Knowing Penny, she suspected she could. Not because she obeyed the unspoken command to admit Channah’s tongue, but because she responded almost immediately, kissing back with a palpable enthusiasm, even of the closest thing to aggression Penny was capable of, making a soft moue of relief and welcome that warmed Channah’s heart despite herself.

Then she laughed, as Penny pushed herself forward and even flicked her tongue against Channah’s. Pulling on Penny’s hair as she laughed at her, she broke their kiss, softly pecking at the corners of Penny’s helpless mouth as if to tell her that was enough. Next, she turned around and relaxed back against Penny, smooshing her between the hard iron behind her and the soft swells of Channah’s buttocks and shoulders, really pushing into her so she knew she was being held in place and not forgotten, giggling and shivering with pleasure as she felt Penny’s lips and tongue begin attending to the sensitive back of her neck and shoulders.

Pulling Chastity in close to her, slowly enough she could tell it was a gesture of intimacy, she repeated the same soft initial brush pass she had used to signal her intentions to Penny. Chas neither pulled back nor immediately reciprocated, but instead hesitated a moment before kissing her back, confidently but less ardently than Penny. Raising her hands to Chastity’s ears, she removed her plugs and pocketed them, hearing Chas’s whimper of relief as she regained her senses.

“Domina!” she gasped, her voice somewhere between a whine and a moan, before pushing forward against the older woman and almost attacking her mouth. She laughed as she returned the kiss, carelessly using Penny as her cushion, hardly thinking of her as she focused her attention on Chastity, running her hands through her oily hair and over her dirty skin with gusto. Earthy and about as far from neurotic as one could be, Channah was not fazed by anything as minor as a sloppy encounter. In fact, she could even relish a bit of the funkiness and imperfection of the world because it was so visceral and real, especially when she knew the chaos and disorder was of her own causation, rather than reflecting any lack of attention or respect for her, coming from her partners.

When they finally came up for breath, she giggled, stroking Chas’s cheek softly and saying: “Penny’s turn. Here, come to me.” She wrapped her right arm around Chas’s head and pulled it in against her breast, forcing Chas to follow as she turned back towards Penny, managing to reach both of Penny’s ears, remove her plugs, and transfer the plug from her right to her left hand without ever releasing, or even loosening, Chas. Pocketing the plugs carefully, she purred with happiness as Penny crushed her lips against Channah’s.

“Oh, oh, oh, mm…” she murmured around their kisses, sensing again how much more desperate and hungry Penny’s kisses were than Chas’s confident and content ones. “It’s so nice to be missed and wanted. I love you girls.”

“We love you Domina!” they both cried, pressing on her with enough force that she backed into the wall beside the door with both girls’ weight squeezing her in a way she found delightfully affectionate. After a couple of moments, she loosened her arm and moved her hand so she was now holding both girls by their hair, allowing Chas’s face up and startling them—again without allowing either girl to even think of resisting—by pushing their chins and noses against hers, flicking her tongue across both of their mouths at the same time, their faces fitting against one another like three pieces of a pie.

Pausing, she scolded them: “Where are your tongues? Don’t be shy. You’re sisterwives now! You don’t have to enjoy kissing one another, but you absolutely, positively can never be hesitant or reserved about kissing me, just because you’re sharing me!” Then she dove back in, her aggression, and the size of her tongue, coaxing her girls into responding. Laughing again, she murmured: “We are going to have the most wonderful week together…. Do you want to see my home? Well… you’re my wives, aren’t you?” she gasped, sounding surprised, as she realized: “That makes it our home, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Domina!” they agreed, happy and warmed by the idea.

Literature Section “07-03 Ready for Love”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 03 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—1330 words—Accompanying Images: 1984-1988—Published 2025-07-04 (early a.m.)—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

07-02 Honeycomb Funhouse Mindf***

2025-07-03 admin

*1984 07-02 Into the Labyrinth–We can fly!*

*1987 07-02 The World Turned Upside Down*

*1990 07-02 Good girls get dunce-boxed forever*

*1993 07-02 Here there are worlds and worlds and worlds…*

PREVIOUSLY: Channah had shaken Chastity and Penance to their cores by binding them and then stripping them of their senses one by one—sight, sound, smell, taste, and then—finally, with triggers inserted inside them, even touch and their awareness of their own bodies, leaving them completely isolated from the world, themselves, and reality. Now, only hours later, she has triggered the girls’ PTSD by leaving them kneeling naked, hands tied behind their backs, collars locked to rings at floor level, and alone in the eerie Honeycomb—vulnerable, bound, hitched, and stripped of their senses of sight, smell, hearing, and taste. They remained connected to the world, and to reality, only by their sense of touch and their awareness of their own bodies, and trapped in their fear, uncertainty, and inability to resist anything else she might choose to do to them. NOW:

Channah had, quite willfully and naughtily, allowed herself to become distracted, first by her castellan and other officials, then by her petitioners, and finally by a lover. She spent most of her time on Earth, and even the time she had for hell had to be divided among different castles by the global nature of her responsibilities. Inevitably, on the rare occasions she did return to Sademtsaowah, when she finally did reappear, she was besieged by the attentions of those she had ignored for far too long.

She had tried to assure them she would be returning next weekend, with her new brides, their qahramanah, and even Kadidia—all of those big draws for her curious officers and staff—but they had heard her promise how quickly she would be back so many times, they discounted her assurances to near nothing. This time, they would see she meant it. As much as Fang’s exhaustion concerned her with the possibility something similar could happen to her, she didn’t expect the girls could ever release that much sado-sexual sorcery again. But that wouldn’t stop her from trying to make it happen, she thought happily.

She had told her two girls she would leave them kneeling on the hard stone floor, virtually mummified and immobilized, for about half an hour. In the event, it was between four and five hours later that she finally returned to the honeycomb, casually chatting with the guards posted outside, for a moment before proceeding inside. Entering it, as she finally did, she brought light and noise to what had been a perfectly dark and silent space. But of course, her girls could not be aware of that, with the plugs she had placed in their ears and more-importantly, the triggers she and Kadidia had pushed up inside their bellies. She could strip them of their remaining sense, and indeed their connections to their own bodies, with a thought, anytime she wished; and she was confident they suspected and feared that to be the case. Still, there was no way she was going to give them the satisfaction or certainty of confirming or denying it categorically. Let them feel the creeping uncertainty and loss of confidence in their own awareness of reality, and the limits—if any—of her power that came with such profound uncertainty about something as fundamental as their very connection to the world.

Walking around behind her girls, she stood for a moment and regarded their beautiful backs and hips. They were gorgeous, two of Channah’s best creations, submissive, feminine, eager to please her, kneeling there with their legs spread revealing their little hints of wannabe manhood below their taints—not men. They would never be men. That was never in the cards for her little futas—never had been. Femmebois.

Both girls were showing signs of physical distress, shifting almost constantly, rearranging their legs, even daring to break position for a moment to straighten one leg and then another, pointing and stretching their toes like ballerinas, inadvertently shifting their hips like whores. Penny was shivering slightly, a function of temperature but even more, Channah judged, of anxiety and dread. Chastity moaned and whimpered, little sounds of her own distress, even panic. Chastity seemed to be even more-affected than Penny had been, about the trigger.

Channah felt herself becoming aroused and reflected, not for the first time since she had broken them, how much she enjoyed their sexual ambivalence, and how muc h they made her appreciate her own. It was a combination, she speculated, of their appearance, their submission, the fact she couldn’t drain them without throwing away decades of her own hard work, and the fact she had made them, thought by thought, feeling by feeling, experience by experience, even hip by hip and breast by breast. Oh—and the maddening, fascinating technical “virginity” of her number one whore. And the fact the little bitch’s personality had, so far, made her act and feel almost like a superior little virgin, no matter what Channah subjected her to.

Usually, as much as she enjoyed the transgression of penetrating a boycow, she enjoyed being a woman so much it made her one of the straightest succubae around. And, of course, she reflected smugly, she liked the fact that no one else on Earth or in Hell ever had to compromise less than she did. That was always a fucking turn-on. Something that, she could perhaps admit to herself, had discouraged her from experimenting with her staff side as freely as she might otherwise have done. It almost made her resentful of her girls, for forcing her to abandon—or at least suspend—that conceit, even if it was at her own choice to fulfill her own ambitions. She want to punish them, for making her compromise her own rigid, dominant femininity; and she couldn’t help the feeling they were asking for it, the little two-faced strumpet-prigs. Among a species more sexually-ambivalent than almost any other, being ultra-, exceptionally-, uncompromisingly- feminine was a badge to Channah of her own uniqueness and power.

All of which kind of pissed her off. Well, really pissed her off. At them. Again. The whiny little straitlaced better-than-thou virginal sheltered taffeta-girl wimps!

Regarding their insolent buttocks thrust up at her like challenges—or at the very least, invitations—she felt herself breathing more heavily, her forehead and coccyx twitching with the rising urge to strike and penetrate them both here. She could hardly imagine how badly they would freak out to feel her pushing lube into their sphincters, reminding them of the last time they had thought themselves senseless until she showed them what it really meant…

“Fuck!” She shivered and rolled her eyes, turning away and forcing her thoughts down gentler courses. She should have done these things on the heteraslakos if she were in the mood for it. And she could always do it next weekend. Or the next. Or the one after that….

But she’d already pushed her girls harder than she’d pushed anyone she wanted to be genuinely intimate with before. And she needed them to be intimate with her—needed them to love and trust her and depend on her. She had to rein herself in and give them love they could understand. Love they were more than ready for. Love they did need, and maybe she wanted, just for a little bit—just for fun. Only, she’d made them such perfect demon-bait… too fucking perfect… Only, they drove her so crazy—

Roughly and impulsively, allowing herself to womanhandle them and leave them helpless and lost to sate her own desire to punish and dominate them, she unhooked their collars from the hitching rings. She enjoyed very much how startled and fearful each girl was at the first touch, shocked to feel evidence of anyone else after hours of being lonely and abandoned, even if they had spent those hours pining for her. They were uncertain who was unhitching them and what they would be subjected to next. They had no idea, and no way of finding out.

She yanked the girls to their feet by their shortleashes and, after she was sure they both had enough circulation and feeling in their legs to keep their feet, casually draped the leashes over her shoulders, pulling their chins down right beside her ears and shivering with the feel of their soft skin and softer breath. Pulling and holding the shortleashes tight, she forced the girls to follow her closely while trying not to trip over their Domina or their own feet. She giggled, feeling them struggle and try to move cautiously, fearful that their next step might be on a painful or treacherous or difficult surface, as she led them back into—and through—the honeycomb.

Literature Section “07-02 Honeycomb Funhouse Mindfuck”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 2 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—1240 words—Accompanying Images: 1984-1995—Published 2025-07-02—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

07-01 The Chamber of Torment III (abridged version)

2025-07-01 admin

*1980 07-01 Massively- (Magically-) Enhanced Interrogation*

*1982 07-01 Aww! He looks so sad and pathetic!*

Explicit version containing gore, graphic violence, and enhanced interrogation themes at 07-01X The Chamber of Torment III at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: Channah and Rivqah are interrogating Gasparo Orseolo in the Chamber of Torment, the nighttime nerve center of the Venetian Republic. In another part of the Palace, Chava waits nervously for further instructions with the ensorcelled child, Pen, trying not to think about how much time is passing. NOW:

“You evil little roach. You will be spending eternity with us, in hell.”

“No! No, I am a pious man! A churchgoing man! I was confessed just this morning!”

The two succubae laughed vindictively. “And you were torturing prisoners again before we found you tonight, weren’t you?” Channah observed. “Even under your church’s absurd superstitions, you are no innocent. You’re not even good.” She peered at him—into him and through him—with narrowed eyes, ignoring his blubbering protests, before nodding. “Damned as Judas, your filthy, tarnished soul is.”

“My priest—”

“Legerdemain!” Rivqah roared with amusement.

“Prestidigitation!” Channah concurred. “There are no magic spells that can save you from your Maker’s judgment. Your soul is as you have fashioned it. Old men in dresses, chanting and making hand gestures, cannot alter or hide the filth on it—within it—from God.”

“God is merciful!” This idea seemed to incense both of the succubae, but he was doubling down before he could even consider whether it was wise or not: “He will forgive me!”

After taking her own peer at his soul, Rivqah exchanged a wry glance with Channah. “I wouldn’t count on it,” was all Rivqah said.

“I’m going to ask Rivqah to come find you—what’s left of you,” Channah decided.

“Yesss!” Rivqah hissed, her eyes dancing with delight at the prospect.

“And then we’re going to hang you up again and have another little chat,” she nodded to herself, her voice dripping with malice. Channah laughed. “And down there, we can leave you in exactly this position as long as we want. You’ll never pass out or rest. Not in hell. I’m so going to hope you remember this. Enough of it, anyway, to appreciate how right I was, and how wrong you were. So I can really gloat and rub it in.” And seeing his frown of uncertainty and doubt, she shrugged. “It’s true! And quite irritating. You damned little ants can be quite disoriented and overwhelmed by hell. The red shades can’t remember anything specific about their lives. They’re consumed and defined by their lust. White shades,” she pointed to him helpfully “—that’s going to be you, loser—may remember a few details of their Earthly lives, sometimes many of them, or maybe nothing at all. That’s why I had to come interrogate you here, to learn what I need to learn before you forget it.”

“You’re mad! You can’t just—just question me, inside the Doge’s own palace! The guards—”

“Oh!” She and Rivqah smirked at one another. “I see.”

“Are you, perhaps, hoping for a rescue?!” Rivqah snickered.

Channah disappeared and reappeared a foot to the left of where she had been.

“Wha–?!” the Capo gasped, and even Rivqah—the swordswoman—was clearly taken aback by the sudden shift, although she quickly covered up that reaction.

And then, just as suddenly, Channah was standing two feet to the right of where she had been.

“I can stop time itself, Gasparo. And move through it.” And as she saw the hopelessness she had been looking for, creep into his eyes, she laughed throatily with satisfaction. “That’s right. We have all the time in the world we could ever hope for. But if you don’t cooperate with me, I won’t do that. I’ll loiter here, until another Lord of the Night or a night watchman appears with another prisoner to torture, and kill them. Who do you imagine would win, in a contest between us—your army and navy of Venice? Or my demon warriors?”

“Hail, Mary, full—”

“Oh, stop it, sinner!” she laughed, slapping Orseolo brutally across the face, more-than-incidentally pulling on his arms and eliciting another cry of agony from him. “You can’t very well be answering my important questions, when you’re chanting and whimpering, can you? No.”

And when he started up again, not quite rationally, she appeared thoughtful, moving counterclockwise around him until she stood by his left leg. With more force than Orseolo could have imagined, she twisted as hard as she could. With a scream ending in abrupt silence, Orseolo was knocked out from the pain.

He was awakened again, by a ladle-full of cold, stale water (again), hanging in the strappado—again—in the Chamber of Torment, wracked with pain. Again.

“I think we’ve established your leg isn’t dead yet,” Channah reminded him, as his eyes blinked and tried to refocus on the world around him.

“Not dead—what?”

And she barely poked it, eliciting another scream, this one not ending in abrupt unconsciousness.

“Your leg is still alive. But the tourniquet will kill it soon enough.”

“Tourniquet?!” he looked down and wailed again in horror at the rope constricting his left leg. “Oh no,” he gasped, panicking, head twisting back and forth, eyes rolling in his head. “Oh no. Oh no. Oh no….”

“You won’t be bleeding out on us, Gasp-o,” she assured him. “Sorr—eee. But after we kill the leg, we’ll have to continue above the tourniquet. So….” She leaned down and tugged his chin to the left so he couldn’t avoid her eyes. She smiled brightly. “I’d best take advantage of your shattered knee right now, hadn’t I? How did you first come to suspect Anzola was ‘possessed’?” And then she dug her thumb in , shuddering with pleasure as she watched him cry and shudder.

Literature Section “07-01[X] The Chamber of Torment III”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 01 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 896 words::Explicit 1121 words—Accompanying Images: 1980-1983—Published 2025-07-01—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.