Tag: asstomouth

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I swear I am—”

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

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

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

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

“And?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Domina!” Chastity bawled.

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

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