“On the other hand, the war among the demons is fought in Hell, and on Earth, and it is a war of genocide. The Lord may abide abominations like the Devils and Zombies to exist, but I will not. Any more than they would willingly suffer the Succubae to exist. We seek to exterminate the Devils and Zombies, as surely as they would exterminate the Succubae and the Vampires—and our allies, the Dragons—if they could.”
“This is a war of survival and preservation! Dear Chas, dear Penny, we must win our war against the Devils and Zombies, or they will wipe us out. They would eradicate all my sisters and brothers—and all our human operatives, including you both—in a heartbeat. They would save me for last, and torture me at their leisure until they were ready to dispose of me. It’s terribly unfair, but the Abominables—the Devils and Zombies—have made it clear in the past that they will attack and kill the youngest, the most-innocent, the most-vulnerable of my children just to spite me if they can! Can you imagine?! Children who will never be operatives, orphans, the unwanted, and the hunted—people I rescue! Just out of loathing and hate. They’re… they’re not even animals! MY children!” She shook her head, leaving no doubt in the girls’ minds that she was genuinely horrified and enraged by their conduct. “But it’s even broader than us individually. We fight for beauty… passion, and love! Art! The pleasures and lovely things in this world, and even those few we may find in hell. The vampires, for the vibrancy of life itself! And the dragons… well, honestly, they’re a little lazy. But generally mild-mannered, if you leave them alone; and they really do tend to leave others alone, as long as they can get what they need to survive.” She laughed, shaking her head. “My husband—First-Husband to you—Húanglóng, King of the Dragons, the indolent sod, doesn’t have a spiteful bone in his body.”
“Compared to our real war, our unholy war, the contest against Heaven is a distant second front: we need souls to fill our ranks, and to deprive our enemies. But it’s less a war, more like… the Border Reivers: English raiding into Scotland, Scots raiding into England, sometimes Reivers raiding without even bothering to cross the line. But it’s all about pillaging the border lands—in our case, Earth. Hell couldn’t breach Heaven if it tried. And Heaven created the border itself, because it doesn’t want hell. Or any of its denizens. I’ve already asked you to puzzle on that. I cannot possibly give you the answer, because I don’t understand Heaven. My soul has been banished from it, and all knowledge and feelings of and from it. When we were cut off—” she shook her head, her voice dropping to a whisper and breaking: “When we separated…” She pressed her lips together, actual tears springing into her eyes, unable to continue for a moment, her face tight and passionate.
“Oh, Domina!” her girls cried in unison and squeezed her tightly and warmly, holding her tightly as her lip quivered and, with a shake of her head, she gave up and allowed herself to cry, holding them right back, hearing them sob sympathetically for her.
Channah’s Confession
“I think you’re ready. I think I’m ready.” Her face became seriously thoughtful, and she squeezed them both, pulling their heads together on her breasts, each girl straddling one of her legs so she could see both of them easily, her eyes flicking back and forth without straying from them, so they both remained intimately enraptured by her gaze and her words, feeling an intimacy they may never have felt in their lives, and certainly not since their mothers’ presence. In a second of shared semi-comedy, all the more intimate because it intervened in the midst of such intimacy, both girls winced and tugged up on their little cages so they rested on her thighs instead of pinching and pressing between them all. Even with that adjustment, the girls were not quite comfortable—they were almost Channah’s size and the position they were put in was not only intimate with her, but cramped and awkward. And somehow, that was right; a way for them to demonstrate their devotion and subservience, their lesserness and the slightly pathetic quality of the uneven yet affectionate relationship between them, even in her most-intimate moments and embrace.
“I want to tell you—I want to admit to you—who I am. Something I have not even shared with all my wives.” She snorted. “Certainly not with Húanglóng, or any other creature of Hell. It is—a vulnerability. A weakness, I dare not show to anyone in hell, or almost anyone on Earth, only those completely loyal and devoted to me. But it is so hard to carry alone, always alone… can I trust you with this?”
“Yes, Domina,” they gasped, confirming and therefore pledging their loyalty and devotion, lips as wide and relaxed as their eyes, practically hypnotized although she used no magic on them—no magic other than sincerity. It was too important a matter for any illusion or artifice.
“I would die before I would tell anyone else,” Penny promised, looking emotional.
“Oh, sweetie,” she kissed her forehead sweetly, then Chas’s as she assured her the same.
She pinkened slightly, and they saw something in her face they had never seen before; something embarrassed. Something even ashamed. She started in the faintest whisper, hardly willing to make the thoughts real by speaking them. “It is essential for the trust between us to blossom and secure us to one another, for you to know the worst truths. I have done terrible things.”
“I—I can be an evil bitch,” she admitted. “I just feel such rage at things I know should not be, such desperation to protect my sisters and brothers—I’m a very passionate woman,” she concluded, looking down into both of their eyes in turn, searchingly, intensely, seeming to find the shred of understanding she was hoping for in their wide, open eyes. “In the heat of the moment, especially under pressure—I try to act calm and stay in control—but I just see red. It’s so hard.” She bit her lip, shaking her head slowly and slightly as she stared into space, as far from the girls as they were rooted and locked to her in that moment, completely moved and honored by the vulnerability and mistakes she, who was so much more prominent and older than they, should share with them. “And sometimes the blackness of fear. And they left me without limits. I reacted to challenges with…” She considered, before settling on “extreme prejudice, towards all enemies, all challengers, even all obstacles. I acted, then, as a youngling, the same way the devils act now.” She waved a hand dismissively. “The zombies are without limits, without restraint, but they aren’t intentional enough for comparison. It’s almost like they just do, without thought. Which doesn’t absolve them of anything, only makes them more despicable. But the devils and their allies, like us, act with intentionality and awareness. And there were times, long ago,” her voice becoming hushed, as if she could prevent heaven itself from overhearing her dark thoughts, “when I acted as they did. I did kill—” she bit her lip. “I did kill humans simply for being in the possession of my enemies.”
The girls shuddered, and she felt it and softly wailed, squeezing them even harder, her face vulnerable and scared. “Please—I’m sorry—I did it—Just for a human being in their consideration, because I viewed them as property. I did it for the same reason you burn your enemy’s house down, not because you care about the house, or even think about the house, but because you want to take from its owner.” She made an indignant sound. “I don’t know! Maybe it was more! Because they were worse than property—something hateful, something hated. Even if they were too young or too defiant to have chosen them.”
Literature Section “06-50 Hella Honeymoon VII”—Part 50 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Continued from 06-49—1362 words—Accompanying Images: 1555-1557. Published 2025-04-03—©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.