Tag: attitude


1816 06-94 The sacred, the profane, and the damned
1817 06-94 This is your bible now.  And I am your priest
1818 06-94 The Succubaean Bible is your training manual now, bitch
1819 06-94 Penny practices what she’s been taught

Explicit version containing masturbation, CBT, chastity, and edgeplay themes at 06-94X What Channah Wants, Channah Takes at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  After teasing and using Penny, Channah began explaining the succubae’s view of chakras and the functions served by the magical bonds she has locked onto (and into) Penny’s body.  Then she finally started to drop the other high-heeled shoe on Penny’s head.  NOW:

“I love you.  I want you, the you that you want to be.”  She shrugged.  “If that’s a big, gorilla-like, hairy he-man, that’s who I want you to be, and that’s what you’ll become when you truly, deeply, willingly surrender yourself to me!  But if you’re sincerely a woman… I mean, I know, you must know, we nurtured your interest in being a girl all along, but it was only for you, because we sensed the powerful feminine energy in you.  Doing that, while the rest of the world nurures your masculine side, gives you real choice so you can freely decide, having lived as both a boy and a girl.  But I’m confident it was the right thing to do, because you were so obviously meant to be a girl.  That first time Chas confessed to you…” she giggled, Penny’s mind reeling at the idea Chas had shared their most-private conversations with the Court, and the succubae had known the things that had passed between them, for so long.

“Oh, I don’t want to get rid of anything you value.  I love all the parts of you that you love.  And believe me, we know what parts you love and how much you adore them.  The parts of you that you can hardly take your hands off.”  She giggled as Penny’s expression changed.  “So… vulnerable.  So… easy and urgent and ardent.  And now, mean Auntie Channah has taken away your ability to play all those little games you and her like to play with one another…”.

Penny’s face was positively incandescent, the asymmetry in knowledge between her and her masters so pronounced it took her to a whole new level of vulnerability and she wished there were somewhere, anywhere she could crawl away in and hide. 

But Channah continued, only her obvious amusement betraying her awareness of Penny’s intense embarrassment.  “It would be a crime to get rid of an important part of what makes you so…” the palms of her hands were warm, sliding across Penny’s chest, her shoulders and upper arms, and even her neck, combining reassurance and gentleness with their counterpoints of control and even bullying.  When her fingers passed over Penny’s nipples, they might pinch.  Or after a particularly thrilling run up Penny’s side, they might slap.  And when she worked Penny’s neck… she wasn’t just stroking Penny’s neck, she was pushing Penny’s chin up.  So gently at first, that Penny didn’t even recognize what was happening.  Then, it became a pleasant, masterful manipulation making her feel a warm, giddy vulnerability, being was in Channah’s hands.  Only finally, at the end, did her manipulations become so forceful they made Penny understand Channah would push her chin up as hard as she wanted to, whether Penny was okay with it or not.  The odd combination of reassurance and dominance was deliberately provocative, testing Penny and demanding she override her instinct to resist or beg off to instead go along with Channah’s will.  Demanding she see that she wanted to.  And Penny did go along with her, of course, blushing at the demonstration of her natural submissiveness to Channah, as her neck cramped and her clitty twitched traitorously from the discomfort and passivity Channah required of her.  Was Channah right about Penny?

But Penny decided she knew this answer from experience already, maybe from the first time she had been in Channah’s presence, and felt her power:  Channah was always right.  Channah had lived a hundred times longer than Penny.  What could there be she hadn’t seen, experienced, lived through, learned about?  Of course, she saw Penny’s heart more clearly—and much earlier—than Penny herself, could.  Doubtless it was easier to see for Channah, too, because she relished what she saw; whereas for Penny… Channah was showing her she was not who she had thought she wanted to be.  Certainly not what society and the church wanted her to be.

“You’re so pliant.  And you know how much pliant girls turn me on.”  Channah dove down upon Penny again, her raptor’s teeth nipping at Penny’s lip just enough to shock, her arms seizing Penny’s wrists, using them for support and more-than-incidentally pinning her down, grinding down into Penny’s as she closed her mouth over Penny’s again and returned her demon’s tongue into Penny’s compliant mouth.  Penny moaned softly and Channah felt her naked truth, the truth confessed by her unshielded body, with no mistake:  Being kissed so forcefully made her little submissive girl melt again.  Channah felt Penny’s hips and clitty start to twitch underneath her, not with resistance, but with desperation.  She felt her girl’s knees and feet coming up along the sides of Channah’s hips and legs like a lover welcoming her master into her body, but too timidly to circle around her master’s legs and ass without permission.  She felt the girl’s arms go limp under the silent mandate of Channah’s hands.

Laughing fitfully and talking sporadically as she continued to make out with Penny, whose breathing was becoming ragged, Channah continued:  “I know, I know… boys, and girls with little clitties like yours, turn me on.  Succubae are built to enjoy you, and to make you respond to us the way we want you to.  But I especially like pliant girls.  More than anybody.”  She emphasized her point with a shivery wiggle of her hips.  “And I can—tell you especially like me.”

She whispered in Penny’s other ear, brushing her lips against it as she spoke:  “Don’t you want boobies, baby?  And—you pervert—dainty soft little feet?  And hips—I know you’d like to have wide, sexy hips and a thick juicy stern that you can lust after in your own mirror.  Don’t you?  Don’t you?”  She laughed especially hard, catching sight of the surprise and trapped look in Penny’s eyes.  “Or wait.  You want to be a girl, but you don’t actually like girls—is that it?” She raised her head, pursing her lips to massage the moisture from their kisses into the rim of her mouth, looking at him questioningly.

“Yes—no—I mean, I like girls, Domina,” Penny managed hoarsely, her mind struggling and halting in its efforts to think, unsure how much she meant she was attracted to women’s breasts, how much she wanted to please her Domina, and how much she just hoped to make the conversation move on to something less dangerous and confusing.  She was feeling all three of them, truly.  But the part she couldn’t help blurting out was:  “And—and I especially like you, Domina.  I—I truly love you,” she whispered.

“Awwwww….” And this earned Penny Channah’s full attention for several minutes before she broke their kiss and spoke again:  “And I especially like girls like you,” Channah agreed, trailing off, eyes unfocused but pointed at her hands and fingers, which were suddenly stroking Penny’s chest and rubbing Penny’s nipples.  “I want you to have boobies I can suck on.”  Penny gasped as Channah’s sultry eyes rose and met hers, defying her to look away.  “And a big round sissy bottom that jumps and wiggles like a pert girl when I slap it.”  Penny practically started hyperventilating as Channah slappic.  “And, and…” a long pause followed as they kissed, nothing other than moans—in Penny’s case, verging on whines, especially when Channah used her knees and legs to force Penny’s higher and wider.  “I—” even Channah was gasping now “—I want you to fill out a dress to your full potential.  You’re so pretty, Penny.  Mmm… If you had the hips and the bust to fill out your dresses completely…” she flicked her tongue obscenely and made a noise that almost sounded like a wolf’s bark, while Penny felt herself melting like bright pink strawberry snow.

Literature Section “06-94[X] What Channah Wants, Channah Gets”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 94 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1298 words::Explicit 1322 words—Accompanying Images:  1816-1819—Published 2025-05-18—©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.

1745 06-89 Good boys serving their cougar wives tea
1746 06-89 Let’s make them serve our lovers naked
1747 06-89 Don’t sass me, boy.  Strip!
1748 06-89 You’re very polite lovers, but we’re ready now
1749 06-89 Four!  Our husbands are so thoughtful
1750 06-89 Is that humbler causing you trouble honey?

1803 06-90 A Sermon on Abstinence–Love vs Sin
1804 06-90 A Test of Strength–Resisting the Temptation of Jezebel
1805 06-90 Liberation Theology–The Book of Revelation

Explicit version containing masturbation, chastity themes at 06-90X Tongue-Tied Penance at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman.

PREVIOUSLY:  Penny emerged from total isolation to a crashing overload of sensation to find herself, physically naked and emotionally-wrecked, in Channah’s protective, affectionate embrace.  Comforted by her, overwhelmed by the need and longing she had felt to be saved by Channah, and the reality of being saved by her, she accepts Channah’s kiss.  NOW:

Penny melted into Channah’s kiss, something starting as a sigh becoming a moan of passion, her passion dissolving all conscious thought in her, her body twitching unbidden and unintended.  Channah’s tongue tickled her lips, caressed her teeth, and flirted with Penny’s.  Penny reciprocated, automatically, wanting to feel more of her Domina, and suddenly she felt Channah’s hand around her chin and cheeks, pushing her face away and holding her still. 

Surprised, she whispered:  “Please—don’t stop,” her eyes swimming back into focus and finding Channah’s, inquiring.

“I won’t,” Channah shook her head decisively, squeezing Penny’s cheeks with the hand that was holding them.  Penny didn’t lift a finger to disentangle herself.  She wouldn’t.  She couldn’t even imagine it.  “But you need to.”

“I–?”  Penny didn’t even know what she was talking about.

“I like to tongue-dance, but reciprocating is a pleasure I associate with men.  Are you a man?”

Penny stared at her, pinkening, before admitting in an embarrassed squeak:  “No, Domina.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Oh, yess,” Penny gushed, practically swooning at the thought.   “Please!”

“Then you need to keep your tongue passive when we kiss.  It’s not to move more than minimally necessary, and it should stay on the floor of your mouth, out of my way, at all times.  Anything else will be considered resistance and obstructionism.  Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Domina, ofph coursze,” Penny nodded, practicing and sensing what it felt life for her tongue to remain supine in her mouth.  “But why?”

“Wait, remind me… do I need a reason?” she asked, curiously.

Penny reddened.  “No, of course not, Domina.”

“That’s right!  Do you know, my metalsmith and I invented restraint devices long, long ago?  We did!” She sniggered with pleasure at the recollection, taking her hand off Penny’s jaw and moving it straight down the front of Penny’s body, tickling her and eliciting a whining sound she seemed to take delight in.  “It looks like something’s pinching you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“Maybe I should talk to her about designing a restraint for your tongue.  The trick would be, designing one that keeps your tongue under control without interfering with speech or eating.  You won’t be of nearly as much use to me if you can’t speak,” she mused, her finger on her chin again, pretending to consider it seriously.  “Perhaps a tongue stud with a little chain, connecting it to a post in the floor of your mouth?”

Penny was scared.  “What are you talking about, Domina?  I don’t understand!  I don’t want to do anything wrong, Domina, I promise.  I want to be your good girl.”

Relenting, she smiled fondly.  “I know you do, dear.  Then obey me.  If I really needed your tongue to stay inside your mouth, you would be in tongue-restraint, to keep it away from females of any species—human, demonic, or otherwise—by even a quarter-inch.  I’m just commanding you to be passive when we kiss because I like it!  I like reminding both of us I’m your Domina, and you’re my jariya.  Do you have a problem with me exercising my prerogatives to humiliate, belittle, or otherwise put you down for no reason other than my own pleasure?” she asked challengingly.

Penny shrank back slightly, eyes wide, and shook her head, disconcerted as always by the part of her that liked the way she treated her.  “No, Domina.  Not at all, Miss.”

“Oh, that’s good,” she snickered.  “ ‘Not at all, Miss.’  I like that answer.  Then keep every part of you, however… small…” she smiled wickedly, tickling Penny again.  “Out of my mouth.  Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Domina.  I’ll be good,” Penny promised, opening her mouth and leaning up towards Channah.

Channah leered at her, bringing her hand back up to take hold of Penny’s jaw and shove it back down, considering Penny.

“Ahm sahy,” Penny apologized, keeping her mouth open and her tongue down. 

“You look ridiculous!  No—hold it open, I like it when you make a fool of yourself for me.”  She laughed, both at Penny’s obedience, and how crestfallen she looked.  She moved her hand back to Penny’s body again, enjoying Penny’s desperate squirming.  “Does it hurt?”  she asked archly, both of them knowing exactly what she meant.

“Yeshmaahm,” Penny nodded earnestly, making her laugh even harder.

“Good.  Suffer for me, my little pretty.”  And like a bird of prey diving to rip some hapless little fish from a stream, or some harmless little varmint from a field of grass, she dove her head back down again, sealing their mouths together and slithering her tongue back into Penny’s mouth again, relishing Penny’s moans of combined lust and discomfort, while her hand continued to play gently with Penny as her tongue ravished Penny’s mouth. 

Penny raised her arm towards Channah, not to be uppity, but automatically, wanting to touch her more, and she laughed into Penny’s mouth as she seized Penny’s wrist and slammed her arm back onto the mattress. 

Rolling expertly on top of her jariya, she broke their kiss just long enough to raise her dress above her waist before sliding down to straddle Penny’s hips, cooing and sliding her other lips up and down over Penny’s chastity as her tongue got back to its ravishing. 

Her tongue, much longer than Chas’s, and apparently more flexible, not only tickled her lips, caressed her teeth, and petted her tongue, it went wherever it wished, sliding between her jaws and her cheeks, and when she felt particularly devilish, ramming down into the back of Penny’s throat with eye-watering, gag-inducing force.  Channah obviously relished every second of Penny’s suffering, her eyes dancing as Penny choked and gasped, struggling for breath and baffled by the confusing messages on the back of her throat telling her body to swallow and to reject the invader.

She broke their conversation for a moment to ask:  “Can you feel the way I feel about you?”

“Oh, yes,” Penny groaned helplessly.  “Your skin is so slippery and smooth.  Ow it hurts…” she protested, not talking about Channah any more.

“I love it!  And I love you, my passive little bitch,” Channah growled, continuing to slide up and down, up and down, pressing harder for her own sense of closeness, before smashing her face back down on Penny’s, using her tongue to drive so deep down her throat that pure reflex made Penny try to escape, while Channah used the mattress beneath her and Channah’s mouth above her to trap her and hold her in place, leaving her little mouse with nowhere to flee. 

Literature Section “06-90[X] Tongue-Tied Penance”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 90 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1081 words::Explicit 1144 words—Accompanying Images:  1803-1805—Published 2025-05-12—©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.

1760 06-89 Southern-Style Breakfast
1762 06-89 Better hurry up, boys.  Mama’s waiting
1764 06-89 It’s good to be the Queen
1765 06-89 I like to keep a domesticated white boy around the house
1766 06-89 Wooden spoons aren’t just for breakfast anymore
1767 06-89 We BOTH know you won’t say shit back to me, boy
1768 06-89 Your breakfast is ready, too, bitchboy

Literature Section “06-89 Mothers’ Day (Southern Style)”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—21 words—Accompanying Images:  1739, 1741-1742, 1744-1750, 1754-1762, 1764-1773, 1791-1798, 1740, 1743, 1763—Published 2025-05-11 to 05-17—©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.

An Old Southern Tradition (05-11)


1754 06-89 Honoring and respecting Mothers is an Old Southern Tradition worth keeping!
1755 06-89 Pillars of the Family
1756 06-89 PIllars of the Church
1757 06-89 Pillars of the Community
1758 06-89 Graceful Elegant Ladies
1759 06-89 Fantabulous Firecrackers

This photo essay is as close to real as my work gets.  The Old South was FUUUUUUCKED UP.  Happy Mother’s Day!

Images 1740, 1743, and 1763 are fully-consistent with DA’s published guidelines and with US law, but because I don’t trust DA’s algorithms and don’t want to be kicked off again, they will be posted on May 12th and 14th at 06-89 Mother’s Day (Southern Style) at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman.

Literature Section “06-89 Mothers’ Day (Southern Style)”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—21 words—Accompanying Images:  1739, 1741-1742, 1744-1750, 1754-1762, 1764-1773, 1791-1798, 1740, 1743, 1763—Published 2025-05-11 to 05-17—©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.

1637 06-72 The Master and Apprentice whisper and plan…
1638 06-72 … Their jawari can only wait and worry
1639 06-72 We have to trust our Domina and Qahramanah.  I do…
1640 06-72 It’s going to be okay, Penny… we have each other

PREVIOUSLY:  Queen Channah has decided to take an opportunity to teach Hanim Qahramanah about how to train her girls, and combine the occasion with an early start to her honeymoon.  NOW:

The Art of Control

“Let’s get these girls dressed for the dance,” Channah began.  “Knowing how careful Fang is, there should be two of everything in the box.  We should start with the blindfolds.  Can you find them?”  And when Esmeray handed her one, she continued:  “In a situation like this, with two girls trapped between us, at our mercy…” she flashed a wicked grin at Chas, as she reached up and spun him around to face Penny.  Esmeray, on the far side of Penny, followed her example.  Since the women were taller than the two girls, barefoot or in heels as they were now, they could see one another over the girls’ French Hoods, and Channah could now see Penny’s eyes over the back of Chas’s shoulders.  “And in most situations when I am playing with more than one pet,” meeting Penny’s eyes and relishing his uncertain, worried look, she continued, “I like to keep them herded close together.”

“For control?”  Esmeray asked.

“Yes!  Very good.  For control…” she snickered.  “And especially, with trans girls, because it embarrasses them.”  She used her hips to bump Chas forward until she and Penny were touching, trying in vain to keep their crotches from bumping and turning their heads slightly so they weren’t kissing. 

“It really does!”  Esmeray laughed appreciatively, watching and imitating as Channah raised the blindfold over Chas’s eyes, with the padded silk side towards her, adjusted it, and then strapped it behind Chas’s head.  “She looks afraid!”

“They both do!  Wouldn’t you be?”

“Don’t they know you well enough to trust you, Mistress?”

“Maybe.  Maybe not enough, yet.”  She met Esmeray’s eyes and winked.  “Maybe too well.”  And they both laughed.  “Seriously, girls, we’re married.  How many times have I told you, I have plans for you?  Plans to have you by my side, serving me, for a long time.  You should know by now I’m never going to hurt you… too badly.  Certainly not injure you, you know, permanently.”  She rolled her eyes and sighed.  “Both of us will even protect you from anything that’s worse than what we have planned for you, when you’re in our control.  But Esmeray and I—and every succubus and qahramanat set over you—reserve our rights to torment you and test you…. To push you, even a little bit past what you thought your limits were.”  Then, after a final adjustment to the blindfold, she turned Chas’s head and showed Esmeray her little finger under the strap at the back of Chas’s head.  “See how my pinky fits under Chas’s blindfold, here where it’s tightest?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“You might think the straps should be super-tight, but that’s not so.  And it can even damage your girl.  If you make anything too tight, your girl may not be able to mind you any more because she’s so focused on the pain from an overly-tight bond.  Or to serve you properly because she’s lost feeling or use of an extremity.  And somehow, the bonds can make the blood move unevenly through the body, making some parts too sanguine, and some too dry, injuring your girl.  A broken girl is a joy, but an injured girl means more work for you.”

She nodded approvingly, as Esmeray checked Penny’s blindfold.  “Obviously, you want to make sure everything is secure, and certainly that your jariya is not able to escape anything you choose to bind her with.  But secure is different from tight, especially with leather and metal restraints since they’re harder to stretch or fray than rope.  If these were wild boys or girls, it would be different.  But with tame girls like these, you can even ask them.”

“Ask them?!”

“Here, like this:”  And she leaned close to Chas, running her hands down the girl’s sides, raising goosebumps.  “Chas, honey doll, how does your blindfold feel?  Too loose?  Too tight?”

“Neither, Domina,” Chas answered.  “It’s well-fit.”

“And how about your eyes?  How much can you see?”

“Nothing, Domina.”

“Not even a sliver of light from around the edges?”

“No, Domina.”

Channah raised her arm, as if saying “ta da!”

“How do you know if they’re lying or not?”

“You have to know your girls.  Really pay attention to them and get to understand them.  If they’re really tame and trustworthy, they’ll tell you the truth.  If they’re a pleaser.”

“What’s a pleaser?”

“Oh dear, you are new to this.  A sub who actually wants to please you.  It doesn’t mean they can.  They may be too small, or too nice,” she pointed at Penny and Chas, bringing a smile to Esmeray’s face.  “But at least they’re minded to try.  Some of these girls will lie, but it’s usually because they’re trying to keep you happy.  When it comes to their own safety and comfort, or their own limits, they’ll over-promise what they’re ready for, and underestimate your demands.”

“So… if Penny lies about the strap, it’s because it’s too tight and is going to hurt her, not because she’s trying to escape?”  she asked, doubtfully.

“Head of the class!  Which means you have to be alert to signs your pet is overheating or shutting down, more than getting ready to bolt.  Especially if they have a relationship with you:  They want to please you, even if they’re too ashamed to admit it, even to themselves.  Also, unless they’re especially stupid hucows, they have to know their top is going to figure out whether or not they’re playing games, sooner or later.  Ultimately, the better you know your slave girl, the more accurately you can predict her, anticipate her, control her, and—when necessary—defeat her.”

“We—the succubae—have been training these two for years.  And they’re not stupid.  Can girls panic and make mistakes?  Yes.  Trans girls, especially, when they’re embarrassed by their feelings.  And when they do, you absolutely punish them, severely,” she reached around Chas with both hands, squeezing and wrenching her cage in one hand and Penny’s in the other, to demonstrate, as they each flinched and cried out.  “They’re so at our mercy, it’s easy to make them bitterly regret it every time they don’t trust you with their total truth and obedience.  As their superiors, we need to teach them—and they need to learn—to trust us completely, with every one of their most-private dreams and fantasies, and their very-deepest and most private secrets.  Every so often, you should make it a habit to pull them aside, individually, and ask them about what they’re feeling and thinking—so you know it.  “Yes, Mistress,” Esmeray answered thoughtfully. 

Literature Section “06-72 Dance of the Qahramanat VII”—Part 72 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1092 words—Accompanying Images:  1637-1640—Published 2025-04-24—©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.