Explicit version containing themes of arousal, afterglow at 06-82X The Real Punishment of Chastity Begins at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman
PREVIOUSLY: Chastity has been completely deprived of vision, hearing, smell, and taste, disoriented with her hands tied behind her back and left lying on a platform knowing only that there is no way off it without risking death or serious injury. But now her tormentor is choking her. NOW:
Chas’s tormentor doubled down, tightening the noose and jerking Chastity’s head back and forth as if trying to snap her neck, using the leash to drag Chastity tight up against her so she could pull even harder.
Like a stone being shot from a sling, panic rushed forward overtaking her as her situation sank in. Utterly and rapidly purged of every thought except for survival, she began kicking and thrashing—the only two things she could do—trying to ignore how much it hurt her own arms and hands, trapped behind her as they were on the stone, hoping against hope she might throw off the leather strip that was killing her, instead of helping to break her own neck by putting more stresses on it.
Choking, gasping, except for the pain in her hands, her arms, and her neck, her entire world was limited to rapidly-blooming terror and the struggle to breathe, even the peripheral pains starting to fade as her attention and her world narrowed and narrowed down to a few inches under her jaw, her burning lungs, and her panic.
Her resistance started to weaken as the energy drained from her muscles, not even adrenaline able to replace what oxygen-deprivation was taking until she became vaguely aware, in some remote part of her brain, that there were hands and other bodies all around them, even on top of Chas, pulling on his would-be murderer’s arms, fighting with her for control of the leash, and trying to loosen it.
After what seemed like forever, the leash loosened and Chas began gasping, her lungs heaving with effort to catch up, her awareness rapidly expanding back to include the knee of one of her rescuers on her chest, restricting her lungs, and her tormentor’s legs and boots kicking her as she was dragged away.
Insofar as Chas could tell, she was now alone with the woman on her chest, who slid off to kneel beside her even as she unwound the leash, leaving only Chas’s collar around her neck and her breathing unimpeded.
A moment later, she felt fingers at her ear and motion inside her ear canal.
Sound exploded back into her awareness as the plug was removed: closest and loudest, laughter. Laughter! She recognized Channah’s voice—the woman kneeling by her—and further away, she thought she could pick out a couple of other familiar voices. Hang’s? Fong’s? Despite only having just met the latter two, she felt hurt and betrayed by all of them, and if she’d had the emotional reserves for it she would have been outraged. Somehow, the fact she knew some of them, even if slightly, made the feeling of betrayal worse and intensely more personal than with respect to the voices she didn’t recognize.
Instinctively, Chas tried to protest. But although she caught herself uselessly trying to talk through the gag and the spell, she could not really muster the intensity of indignation she felt the situation deserved because she was too exhausted and her nerves were too shattered.
Somewhere in the direction she had been dragged, Chas recognized Esmeray’s voice. Screaming: screaming with rage and fury and the kind of indignation Chas could not muster, all tinged with something Chas’s heart still had enough bandwidth to recognize as a cousin to her own instinctive panic. Practically spitting, the bloodlust Chas could hear directed at her, doused her own feelings of being slighted like a tubful of ice water poured over her body.
Surrounding Esmeray, there were a cluster of winded voices of people trying to subdue or remove her, some barking orders at her, some trying to reason with her quietly, but most of them, Chas was sure, tinged with some mild shade of amusement over her act of attempting to murder Chas. Below and behind all the other sounds, the roaring, raucous ocean of the damned not only continued, but had surged, their howling seeming to be at the highest and most frantic pitch Chas had heard yet.
“Are you all right?” Channah asked, still laughing, resting her hand lightly on Chas’s neck in a form of attempted comfort. And then, before Chas even realized she was grunting and snorting insensibly Channah reminded her: “Sweetie, you’re going to have to nod or shake your head for me. You sound like—well, like a gagged woman trying to talk.” And she laughed a bit harder.
Assessing herself, Chas decided that despite the soreness of her neck, the post-adrenaline jitters, and the even deeper bruises to her psyche, she was physically more-or-less intact, and she managed a nod.
“Good. That’s good. Are you able to breathe and recover?” Chas nodded again, almost feeling cared for until it occurred to her Channah was making no move to remove her other earplug or otherwise release her. “I’m glad, wifey dear. I told you, I have plans for you, darling. You need to take better care of yourself. Do try to remember none of the other women on this roof are your wives or girlfriends, and it’s not all about you. It’s best for everyone if you try to please us instead of thinking of yourself. Understand, honey?” Chas nodded, ignoring his burgeoning outrage as he concentrated on trying to figure out what it was important for her to know and understand for her own survival.
“You’re not going to like what comes next either. But we’re all going to enjoy ourselves more than enough to keep the damned in a lather. And Esmeray’s anger… lust and anger, that’s all the damned can feel or understand.” Her voice fell, to something like hushed in this environment, expressing wonder: “They’re going mad! That’s all they are, now… wanting what they can’t have. Don’t you dare tell Penny yet. She’ll put it together fast enough anyway and I need her strong.” She patted Chas’s forehead protectively. “But as much as the thought of your suffering satisfies my own urge to teach you a lesson, it’s counterproductive out here. The power we take from the damned is spiteful lust, so you won’t be able to share in that power. Oh, well. More for me!” She practically giggled.
She leaned close to Chas’s ear, and kissed him on the earlobe, and then between her temple and her ear, making Chas shiver with delight. “You and Esmeray, together… you’re an emotional firestorm, the two of you. So think about this: Because I can’t trust Esmeray to leave you alive, I’m going to have to give Penny to her today, and she’s going to take out all the rage and upset you can hear from her, on Penny. You did that to your sister-wife.”
And with that, the plug was pushed back into Chastity’s ear, and her world was plunged back into near-perfect stillness.
Literature Section “06-82[X] The Real Punishment of Chastity Begins”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 82 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1132 words::Explicit 1290 words—Accompanying Images: 1704-1707—Published 2025-05-04—©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.