Tag: BDSM

2176 07-35 Behold the Power of the Dragon King
2177 07-35 Unchallenged–The Better Man
2178 07-35 The Hellish Power Behind the Earthly Throne
2179 07-35 The Dragon King’s Unspoken Challenge
2180 07-35 Will You Challenge the Dragon King or Submit to Him?
2181 07-35 Go on, cuck
2182 07-35 Clear-sighted
2183 07-35 Their Rightful Place.  Their Natural Level.
2184 07-35 What do you imagine is going to happen here, cuck?
2185 07-35 But only if you admit it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of
2186 07-35 Even worms have a place.  This is yours

CAUTION:  Contains themes of heavy degradation and bullying some readers may find disturbing

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah’s best friends, concerned about their liege lady’s well-being and the rumors beginning to circulate in hell, decide to crash her honeymoon with Penance and Chastity, bringing her First Husband, the Dragon King, and two other prize pieces of beefcake along for Channah to ride, and forcing her two brides to help cook breakfast for the lovers upstairs.  NOW:

On their own honeymoon, the girls cooked and assisted with other chores for about an hour enduring the loud cries and moans from above them that proved conclusively Miriam and Rivqah had been right to bring real men for their Domina to celebrate with, before Haruka finally dismissed the girls into Esmeray’s care.  At this point they had helped her make coffee, pour cream, pile dates on plates for sweetening the coffee, set the dinner table, chopped vegetables and cold meats, steamed rice, and warmed bread, listening carefully as she explained exactly how to prepare each item and ingredient the way Channah liked it, and enduring her harsh criticisms and corrections of them every time they made a mistake. 

Now she relaxed on a stool beside the kamado—the traditional Japanese oven in Channah’s Mesoamerican hacienda that, Haruka had explained, reflected their Domina’s preference for the meticulousness and rigidity of Japanese aesthetics in her home—idly bobbing one foot, at first casually and then with more deliberation as she noticed Penny’s stare, frowning with concentration like a cat experimenting with a mouse.  She slowly sipped her own coffee, enjoying watching as Esmeray bound their wrists, hobbled their ankles, leashed them, piled their trays with food and drink and utensils, and led them away to and awkwardly up the stairs, forced by their bonds to balance their trays on their forearms while desperately clinging to the outer edges with their shackled hands.

Esmeray turned off the stairs on the second floor, which the girls had never explored before, and led them to two unfamiliar but well-appointed rooms.  The first, on the right, overlooking parts of the garden they had never seen before, and the rain forest under the cliffs, was the parlor.  It was dominated by curved tables arranged in a ring with curved sofas just outside them, and four giant multi-pipe hookahs spaced around the circle.  The other, the saloon or celebration room, on the left—which was occupied now—overlooked the garden, the springs, the gazebo, and the great valley beyond them.  It contained broad divans arranged around the perimeter of the room with a large area comprising, essentially, an oversized bed formed by divans that had been pushed together in the corner immediately to the right of the entrance.  All the divans in the corner were flat.  The other divans, and a number of chairs,that were scattered elsewhere around the room offered a variety of intriguing and unique shapes for playing on, and were piled with pillows of every shape, size, and firmness.  Tiferet sat on a chair near the middle of the room behind an easel with paints, brushes, and pots of water set on two low tables to either side of her, painting swiftly and intently, while Esmeray sat on a stool beside and slightly behind her, watching in fascination over her shoulder.  Their chairs were facing the divans in the corner where the six lovers relaxed, eyes closed, naked and entangled in postcoital bliss:  Channah and Húanglóng lying sideways with Channah’s head resting on Húanglóng’s soft, fat stomach; Rivqah spooning Jacob with her hand holding his member; and Miriam curled against George’s side with her head on his arm, running her fingers idly over his chest.  Only Tiferet and Esmeray were still dressed; on the bed, the celebrants had cast aside all their clothing and shoes, and a large portion of their gold jewelry.  As best the girls could tell, their decisions about what jewelry to leave on, and what to take off, were completely arbitrary.  If there was any rhyme or reason to the selections, it eluded them.

After the girls had served everyone else coffee and breakfast, Channah sent them back downstairs for spiked wine and spirits.  Upon their return, Channah made them stand just in front of the divans and fill two goblets apiece with a blend of spiked wine and clear spirits, then choke down the nauseating stuff while everyone watched and cheered them on with laughter.  Miriam and Rivqah then instructed them to fill a large, deep bowl on the floor with a mixture of white spirits, mint, and water, and finally to serve all the lovers and their qahramanah with spiked wine.  Channah, laughing, made Penny bring her one of the wine bottles and held Penny face-up on her lap while she poured more wine down her throat, while Rivqah and Miriam did the same to Chastity.

Finally, Channah commanded them both to crawl before Húanglóng, who was now sitting on the edge of the group of divans, drinking wine, while Channah sat behind him with her head on his shoulders and her arms as far around his chest as she could reach.  “You missed my weddings, beloved,” Channah reminded Húanglóng, immediately provoking Rivqah and Miriam to laugh:  “uh-oh!” “Oh no!” as if someone had done something wrong.

Húanglóng shrugged.  “What man can keep up with the weddings of such a healthy, lusty succubus?” causing everyone else to laugh while Chastity and Penny looked nervous.  Noticing, Húanglóng pointed to the ground at his feet, commanding them:  “Don’t be shy.  Crawl closer, let’s see my wife’s homet-nuswut.”  The phrase was ancient Egyptian, and was another way of expressing their status as Channah’s lesser, secondary partners, compared with Channah’s and Húanglóng’s status as primary partners to one another.

As they hurried over on their knees, provoking laughter from the others, Channah admonished them:  “I know I don’t have to tell you girls to treat my First Husband as you would me, your god where I am your goddess, do I?”

“No, Domina,” they assured her, looking scared, aware the atmosphere in the room had changed and everyone else was now watching them intently with a sharpened interest the girls didn’t understand.  At least some of their uncertainty was reflected in the eyes of George and Esmeray, but at least those two had the instinctive comfort of knowing whatever was happening, didn’t involve them.  But everyone else in the room seemed to be in on it, whatever ‘it’ was.

“Stay on your knees.  But put your heads on the floor with your arms stretched out under the bed in front of you,” Húanglóng ordered them, calmly and with a sense of self-possession, “and turn your heads to the sides, away from one another.  I want each of you focused on me now, not distracting one another.”

The girls obeyed, and next felt the Emperor’s large, heavy feet descending to rest on their heads, pressing them down uncomfortably into the stone floor as he relaxed and allowed their weight to rest on the girls’ skulls.  With their shackled wrists in front of them, the Emperor’s posture allowed him an easy and—for them—humiliating way to keep them under his control.

“You married my wife,” he stated, gruffly and bluntly.  They heard Channah make a noise somewhere between a growl and an approving moan behind him.  “But you didn’t even so much as ask my permission first, did you?” 

“No, Master,” they responded in unison, knowing he would be displeased with their angle..  “I’m sorry, Mast—”

“Hush!  You’ll have a chance to show how sorry you are in a minute, and possibly all day.”  The celebrants on the bed all made warning calls and hoots of anticipation, while Penny’s half-squished face (Chastity’s was invisible to the group, facing the wall) just looked more anxious and worried, provoking secondary laughter.  “Right now, you listen to me and you answer me.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.” 

“From now on, you will address me as ‘First Husband,’ although when you’re serving me sexually—”

Miriam laughed:  “I wish you could see the panic in this little girl’s face!”

He acknowledged the comment with a slight, momentary grin, continuing “You should call me ‘Daddy,’” he decided, rolling the balls and heels of his feet over their temples and cheeks, perhaps because it felt pleasant to him or perhaps simply to reinforce their helpless subservience before him.  Then he responded to Miriam:  “When you marry a married woman, you marry her husband as well,” he pointed out reasonably.  “If they didn’t want to be both our playthings, they shouldn’t have married us, should they?”  And then, pushing down a little harder and squishing the girls’ faces a bit more, he emphasized:  “Especially without asking me first.  Should you?”

“No, First Husband!” they yelped.

“But you chose to marry us, anyway, and now you are bound to us as our ceshi or shu-wives.  Do you deserve my wrath, wretched girls?”

“Yes, First Husband,” they quavered fearfully.

“You certainly do.  But fortunately for you, I am a very tolerant and forgiving master.”  Sliding his feet from the tops of their heads to rest immediately in front of each girl’s face, he pressed the soles of his feet into their faces, speaking soothingly.  “Breathe, chattel.  Be calm and breathe.”

They obeyed—they could scarcely do otherwise, in their positions—but he emphasized:  “Deeper.  Breathe deeper!  I want to hear it!  I want to know you’re breathing in, deeply and calmly, breathing me into you….” And as they practically hyperventilated, everyone in the room could hear, and enjoy.  “That’s the way… Even in this plane, in this borrowed body, my body is at peace, and brings others to peace with me.  Are you starting to feel docile and calm, now, in my presence?”

“Yes, First Husband,” they answered, Penny’s response tinged with the faintest hint of surprise.

“Good girls.  Roll over onto your backs,” he commanded, lifting his legs while they scrambled to obey.  “Keep your hands above your heads!”  he reminded them; and as soon as they were in position, he settled his feet back onto them, this time right on their faces, pressing down.  “Breathe and worship me.  Go on!  Kiss my feet and clean them.  Get your tongues out!  Good girls…” They heard applause, and claps of approval, but no longer cared.  Or rather, they cared only whether their actions pleased Him, and their Domina.

“That’s so hot,” Channah moaned, scrambling around her husband to sit on his lap, facing him, and kiss him.  “I never get tired of seeing it.  Or of envying it.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 He roared with laughter.  “Look who’s talking.  Mmm…” he paused to kiss his wife back.  “You brought them to me already caged and humiliated and pledged to your service, did you not?  I’ve yet to meet the succubus who couldn’t domesticate an animal on sight.”

“But it’s so… effortless for you!” she protested, gnawing affectionately on his lip before pushing her tongue back against his.

After a moment he protested—his grin making his protestation unconvincing:  “Sitting on my thighs, you’re making it much harder for our little wives to show their respect!”

“Good!” she murmured huskily, pressing herself up against his hardening member and bouncing on his thighs to send concussive shocks down his legs into her chattels’ faces.

“I’ll bet it’s every bit as good for them,” Miriam added wryly.  “They know where they belong now.  And it’s probably what they need, they’re such compliant little girls.”

Tearing herself away with a sigh, Channah backed off the bed and squatted down between her wives, feeling them, and crowed with delight, provoking laughter from her companions:  “‘They shall lick the dust like a serpent.’  And they are most definitely trying to ‘move out of their holes like worms.’”

“So, Jacob,” Húanglóng snickered, rubbing his feet across his playthings’ eager tongues and lips, unable to completely conceal the enjoyment he felt from such an easy demonstration of his power, protracting it with casual conversation.  “We have met before?”

Channah snorted, “Boaster,” as she rose back to her feet, idly kicking Penny’s little scrotum and watching her flinch and whine without pausing for one second in her devotions.  “Incredible,” she hissed with disgust, shaking her head and going to the table where the girls had set the liquor, picking up a bottle of wine and offering refills to her companions.

“Come now, surely our girls should have a moment to acclimate to their new station before we put them back to work,” Húanglóng suggested loftily, as if he were doing them a favor, with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Jacob answered.  “I have had the honor of meeting you in Lytos, at your Palace of Indolence, upon the occasions of several anniversaries.”  Channah’s and Húanglóng’s anniversary celebrations, held in Lytos primarily to make it likely he and the other dragon participants would show up, was one of the few occasions when demons from different hells interacted other than through political embassies.  And although the guests were only dragons and succubae, the uniqueness of the event made it legendary in hell.

The Dragon King looked pleased.  “Ah, yes, I remember you now.  You enjoy chasing the dragon?”

“Everyone enjoys chasing the dragons, Master,” Jacob allowed.

“Ha ha, good answer!  As everyone dreams of being visited by the succubae.  I can see why you are invited, of course!”

“Not my conversational skills, I’m afraid, Your Majesty,” he admitted with a faint undertone that was difficult to place, but sounded almost ugly and hard.

Húanglóng raised an eyebrow, but didn’t care to pursue it, asking instead:  “You’re a cambion?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, the son of the succubus Michal.”

“Of course,” he nodded, turning to George.  “And you?  You seem—new to me?”

“We have never met before, Your Majesty,” George responded.  “I am George Manning, th-the carpenter at Duchess—er, Queen Channah’s Fensmere estate in Cambridge.”

Húanglóng’s eyes narrowed.  “But surely, if your life and soul are safe from the succubae, you can’t be fully human?”

George looked surprised.  “Yes, Your Majesty—I am!  Or… I thought I was…”

“Hmm… also not invited for your conversational skills.”

“Your Majesty?” George asked uncertainly.  “It—it’s an honor to have been invited—”

“Oh, dear.”

Channah, back by the sideboard, further fortifying the spiked wine by pouring what was left from the bottle she had used to refill everyone’s glasses into a flagon with a couple of fingers of spirits left in it, snorted and exchanged a wry glance with Esmeray before interjecting:  “He’s the son of one of my very brightest operatives.”

“Really?” Húanglóng asked drily.

“Really.  The woman who tutored the two, I can assure you, very-well-educated girls licking the dust and shit from the soles of your feet at this very moment, darling.”

“Really?” he looked surprised.

“Really, darling,” she assured him.  “We all thought he was human, but George darling, tell him what happened to you when our whorish little Penny got you overexcited?”

“I, er—” George blushed.  “Turned green.”

“More than just that, darling.  He revealed himself as a dragon cambion.  He might even be one of your great-something-grandsons.”

“Really?!” Húanglóng grinned, now interested and approving, clapping George on the shoulder.  “Good lad!  And I see you take after me in some ways!”

“I do?”

“Eh—in the ways that got you invited to this party!”

“Duchess Miriam said I would make a nice surprise for Her Majesty the Queen,” George admitted proudly.

“And you will!” Húanglóng encouraged him, patting him on the back reassuringly.  And, seeing he was still not following:  “We’re talking about the size of your cock, son!  You’re a big chip off the old block.  Succubae like a bit of demon cock now and again.  Nobody likes to fuck where they eat all the time.  Sometimes they like to focus on their own experience and just let go, instead of worrying about managing and corralling and consuming prey.”

“Oh,” George answered, turning red, politely continuing:  “Thank you for explaining, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t fret,” Jacob interjected tightly.  “You’ll get used to it.”

“Oh, I’ve always known my cock was—different,” George replied earnestly, forcing Jacob—who clearly knew his own place in the pecking order all too well—to look away until he could control his expression of derision. 

“I’m sure you do, son,” Húanglóng exchanged a wicked look with Channah, but managed to suppress his reaction better than either Jacob or Channah, who was snickering as she moved back over to Penny, squatting down to rest on her metal cage, the burning warmth of her fireplace surely as obvious to her toy girl as the pressure she was exerting. 

Sliding back and forth to tease the girl, and herself, she snapped:  “Toes!” as she began purring and dripping the doubly-spiked wine onto Húanglóng’s toes so it rolled over and off them onto Penny’s worshipful tongue and into Penny’s adoring mouth.  Penny, for her part, made Channah’s experience perfect by obeying her, choking and sputtering in shock at the strength of the brew, without interrupting her assigned task.  “My love, as much as it may irritate me how easily seduction and domination come to you, I’m most grateful you have such a way of shutting up my little Meoto here.”  Then she switched to her baby-talk voice:  “That’s the way, little Meoto, shut up and drink up for Mommy, while you please your Daddy.”

“‘Meoto’?!” Húanglóng asked.  “That’s… Korean?”

“Japanese.  For effeminate chatterbox.”

“It’s very funny.”

“Particularly because it fits her to a ‘T-girl,’” Channah assured him.  “A bigger blabbermouth you have never met.  And yes, I mean including Lucifer!”

Húanglóng raised an eyebrow skeptically, then looked back down at Penance’s nearly-naked body under his foot, serving him.  “Are you really a little blabbermouth, footsucker?”

Penny nodded earnestly, by now so far under the spell of Húanglóng’s powerful pheromones she could no more lie than disobey the dragon, or conceal her feelings from him.  “Yesh, First Husbnd.”

“Don’t you think we’re past ‘First Husband’ by now, Meoto?  You’ve been making out with my foot there for about five minutes now, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more passionately in love with my foot.  And that’s saying something.” 

Channah smirked:  “My girl has a bit of a thing for feet, darling.  Among her other… many… delicious little quirks.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Penny agreed enthusiastically, as oblivious to the laughter all around her as any audience member tricked into participating by a stage hypnotist might be.  “You’re right.  This is soooo sexy!  I love your big, strong, hard foot, Daddy.” 

“Yeah?  What do you like best about it?”

“It’s amazing,” she gushed.  “I’ve never been so turned on by a man’s foot before.  I don’t know if it’s the weight of it, Daddy,” Penny began babbling, slurring and pausing her words around the kisses and licks and sucks she was applying to every surface of Húanglóng’s foot she could possibly get her mouth on.  “The weight of it, which reminds me how big and strong you are; or the hardness of it, which reminds me of how masculine you are.  Or the smell of it, which is like…  I don’t even know what it’s like, Daddy; but it’s—it’s earthy and musky and sexy and—”

“Whoa!  You are a little chatterbox, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Oh, you’re not sorry yet, but you will be, when I punish you for marrying my wife without my permission.”

“I’m—I’m really sorry, Daddy,” Penance admitted, suddenly her voice sounding contrite and wavering, almost as if she were about to cry.  “I’m so sorry!”

“I’m sorry too, Daddy!” Chastity burst out, unable to stop herself.  “We respect you so much, Daddy!”  Chastity exclaimed.

“So much!”  Penny agreed.

“This pathetic display is better than any theater!” Jacob snarked, expressing what many of those watching were feeling and triggering a ripple of laughter throughout the room.

“Humans!”

“Livestock!”

And the ultimate put-down:  “Prey!”

“Which… actually… makes me wonder…” he looked around the room until he found who he was looking for and called her:  “Is it—Esmeray?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she conceded, looking concerned.

“Come over here and sit by me.”  He patted the bed just next to him.

Obediently, but without being able to fully conceal her reluctance, she rose and made her way over to him, trying to sit a foot or two away from him and stiffening to a porcelain rigidity when she felt his broad hand on her hip, effortlessly pulling her tight into his side, as he frowned in wonder.  Even punch-drunk-love-drunk Penny and Chas would have sensed Esmeray’s fundamental discomfort and hostility if they could have seen or sensed anything beyond their master’s feet, or been able to conceive of resisting him.  As it was, Esmeray’s strong reaction produced a ripple through the room, all of the succubae and their cambion immediately aroused with the narcotic-potent combination of their predatorial and sexual instincts her conflicted behavior aroused in them.

Esmeray felt her rage and resentment spiking and spiraling out of her control, trying her hardest to use the tricks she had taught herself over the years to maintain her calm despite her urge to lash out at him for ignoring her body language, her very identity and volition, so completely, a feeling she could only barely contain when it finally clicked with her that, far from being oblivious to her feelings—the usual problem with humans and demons alike—he was completely focused on them, and fascinated by them.  Only that belated realization enabled her to accept it when he rested his hand over her nose and mouth.

“Be careful, darling,” Channah warned him.  “She’s a powder keg.  More of a volcano, really.”

“Oh, I can tell,” he nodded, clearly riveted by what he was seeing.  “You’re… immune to me!  To us—”

“To all demons.  And humans.”  She laughed:  “And even pets, as far as I can tell, Sire,” Channah purred, still amusing herself on pathetic Penny’s body.

“This is incredible,” he wondered, meeting Esmeray’s angry, resentful, nearly-panicked eyes over the top of his hand, and suddenly, really recognizing how agitated a state she was in.

Hastily dropping his hands from her and raising them placatingly, he apologized smoothly.  “I’m so sorry my dear… this is such a rare thing… and you’re an extreme case.”

“It’s all right, Your Majesty,” she forced herself to say, no one listening to her likely to believe she actually felt that way—not least because of how the moment the Dragon King released her, she popped up to her feet and moved back from him, regarding him as one might regard, well… a dangerous serpent.

“Does it surprise you, the reaction I produce in most hucows?”  He asked, gesturing at the two adoring girls happy to be under his feet.

“Those two… weakling little perverts?  Not as much as it would with normal huco—people,” she huffed, trying to breathe more slowly and deeply to calm herself.  “But… yes.”  And she managed to pack all he scorn of the world into that one single word.  “Do they—’we,’ I suppose—all act like that around you?!” she asked, incredulously.

“Pretty much,” the Dragon King shrugged, indicating it was nothing; simply another day in his world.  “All of them except for you.  You’re quite… disagreeable.  But I apologize for causing you stress nonetheless.  I don’t like causing stress.  I normally don’t.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Esmeray curtsied slightly, trying to express what she felt, which was that she actually appreciated what he was saying.  It was a different kind of magic, the oldest in the world:  simple courtesy and respect.  But not something she had learned to expect from either humans or demons.  Shrugging again, the Dragon King continued:  “I prefer… getting along with people, the way I usually do.”  Then, looking down at his feet, his voice dripping with contempt, especially at the contrast their behavior made with Esmeray, he asked:  “Do you ‘girls’ even remember what it felt like to want to be a man?”

“Oh, yes, Daddy!”  Penny assured him.  “I want to be a man now!”  And then, sounding despondent, heedless again of the roars of laughter from around her:  “It’s still inside me always.  I wish so much I could be a man and I’m so ashamed to be a little girl!”

“Every minute?” he asked, his eyes lighting a bit at the thought.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Every second of every day!”  Chastity cried out her pain.  “I like being a girl, a lot!  Not like Penny.  But at the same time I—I’m confused—I don’t know, I was supposed to be—maybe I am supposed to be a man—I wish I could just be a girl and be happy about it!”

 “I’m not!  I’d give anything to be a man!  A big, powerful, sexy man women want and love.  Just like you!”  Penny moaned, licking and sucking furiously, practically losing herself in the act.  “But I’m not what I want to be!    I’m just not!  I didn’t—I don’t want to be a girl.  But I just am!  A weak girl.  I can’t help it!  I’ve never been any good as a boy, I was never allowed—never deserved—to have my breeching ceremony, and all I can think about are women and how much I wish I could make love to them!  But I can’t even get hard any more from normal sex.”

“You’ve never had ‘normal’ sex in your life,” Channah mocked her contemptuously, cutting her down as easily as a scythe sweeping through a field of flimsy wheat stalks.

“I mean—I mean to say—I’m so embarrassed, Domina!  I mean…” she whispered, not wanting anyone else to hear, maybe not even wanting to hear it herself:  “From touching myself.”

“You’ve touched yourself?!  Like Onan?!”  Channah roared accusingly, well aware she was leading a performance for the entertainment and arousal of her guests.

“In the dark, in my bed—yes, Domina.  I’m so—I used to be so horny, thinking about women and their bodies, their hips, their bottoms, their legs, their feet—”

“And you can’t get hard anymore, can you?”

“Not—like that.  Never when I’m in my cage.  And now I—since you began training me—it seems I can only orgasm like a girl, when I’m on the bottom—”


“The receiving partner?”  Channah suggested.

“Yes, Domina,” she whispered, covering her own eyes in shame without pausing in her ministrations to the Dragon King’s feet.

“Pathetic!” Channah spat, almost literally, touching herself with her free hand and hissing as if she’d touched fire.

“I know!” Penny started crying, without slowing down, grunting as Channah stepped on her cage and observed: 

“Don’t lie to me, Penance.  Don’t lie to your Daddy.  I can feel how much you like being a girl.”  She emphasized her words with more-aggressive, presumably quite painful, jabs and rolls and tugs on Penance’s little cage.

“I don’t, Domina, I’m sorry!  I don’t!”

“Then why is your little clitty so hard?”

“It’s so awful!  I—I can’t possibly say, Domina!  Please don’t make me say it!”  And then she whispered:  “I don’t even want to hear it!”

“Oh-ho-ho, but I do.  And I’m what matters, aren’t I, Meoto?”

“Yes, Domina, you’re all that matters.  You and Daddy—”

“Tell me!” She demanded, working her toe in between her cheeks and up towards her little girl’s hole.

“I—I feel like… It’s hard to say it, exactly… I don’t even understand it!”  She wept.  “How can I explain it?”

“Just do your best, sugar bear.  Trust us.  Well—trust our experience.  There’s very little we haven’t seen before and even less we don’t understand.  Go on,” she encouraged her girl with her probing, teasing toe and her taunting tone of voice, finally getting what she wanted.

It came out as the quietest whisper:  “I’m—I know I’m such a lowly worm, lower than dirt, it’s such a relief to just—to just be what I am I don’t know…”

But they most definitely did.  The room roared and reverberated with cruel laughter as the vulnerable girl’s deepest and most-shameful truths came out.

“I told you you were a shit-eater, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Domina, but I didn’t understand it—”

“Do you understand now?”

“I don’t—maybe!” she howled in pain, before dissolving into sobs.  “It’s so unnatural—I can’t—it can’t be that—I don’t understand…!”  She bawled.

“But you’re beginning to,” Channah diagnosed her condition with a spiteful, liberating delight.  “Don’t worry, my little Pleaser.  We’re going to explore this in depth.”

“Sooo much depth!”  Rivqah whooped delightedly.

Channah, barely able to contain her smile enough to keep talking, assured Peny:  “You’re going to earn your name even better now, Pleaser, now that I can see better what I’m aiming it.  I’m going to drag you through your misery and shit until you look like a muddy golem under my feet!  It turns you on to be able to finally give up all that exhausting, hopeless, ineffective pride and hope and craving to be something more than you are, something you’re absolutely not, and just admit to us—show us—what a worm you are, doesn’t it?”

“I think so, maybe—Domina!  I’m not sure—”

“Oh, I am,” she laughed richly.  “And the better I understand you, the better I can tear you apart, sweetheart.  Thank you for this key.  Admitting who and what you are—to us, maybe even to yourself because only by admitting it to us, are you forced to face it yourself?—Doing that is what makes you happy because you can actually be yourself for once!  What a relief that must be!”

“Oh, it is, Domina, it is!  But it’s also—terrible—”

“It certainly is mortifying and, I’m sure, painful and humiliating.  As it ought to be.  Especially when you’re surrounded by big, real men like my First Husband and other fuck buddies here.  But you just can’t help who you are, sweetie,” she mock-comforted her girl, reaching back to wrench her tiny scrotum painfully with one hand, as she put her other hand on her neck in a chokehold, demonstrating her mastery of her slave physically as well as mentally.  “And nothing feels better than being who you really are, baby…” she cooed encouragingly, shivering with arousal.  “Even though you fucking hate it, don’t you?  I bet you’d give anything to be different—to be a man!”

“I do!  I do so!” Penny bawled.  I wish I could be like Daddy instead of like me.”

“Well… admit that to your Daddy, bitch.  You’ll feel better.  We’ll all feel better,” she chortled.

“Yes, Domina.  Oh, Daddy, truly, I wish I could be like you—I wish I could be you, instead of me!” 

Chastity wailed, starting her own waterworks:  “Me too!  YOU’RE a man my lord!  You’re the real thing!  I know I’m supposed to be like you, but I want to be a girl!  I’ve always wanted to be a girl, for as long as I can remember!  Ohh!  I can never face my father again.  Or my brothers!  Not even my own mother!”

“I can’t even face myself!”  Penny bawled.  “I have to try sooo hard to remember I’m a girl and to act like I’m a girl and to accept my place as a girl and put up with so many pawing men who want to play with my body, especially now that it’s a girl’s body, when all I wish is that I’d been born with the spirit of a man!  My hate my penis!  I mean I love my penis but—but—but all it does now is remind me of what I’m supposed to be, and what a failure I am!  Oh how I wish I could be like you!”

“Wait—now you think you can even compare yourself to me, little pussy?!” Húanglóng asked, sounding surprised but doing nothing to conceal the amusement and contempt he felt. 

“I’m sorry!  I apologize, Daddy!”

“Because you know you’re not a man, as disgraceful as that is?  Is that right?”

“That’s right, Daddy,” Penny confessed, as both girls kept weeping and worshiping and working on pleasing their Master.

“Chastity, I understand,” Húanglóng allowed.

“Oh, thank you, Daddy!” Chastity gushed.  “Thank you for understanding and tolerating me!”

“Shut up and stand up in front of me!” Húanglóng barked.  “Penny, don’t you dare move or interrupt what you’re doing!”  And the moment Chastity was on her feet in front of the Dragon, he grabbed her arm and yanked her across his left knee, pushing her neck down with his left hand and trapping her legs under his right knee before spanking her furiously, a staccato series of blows from his mighty hand that immediately reactivated all her bruised, oversensitized flesh and sent her into tears of pain, multiplying her misery and humiliation.  “Dear,” Húanglóng smirked at his First Royal Wife calmly, not even breathing heavily, and without slowing down the motion of his hand.  “I’m impressed.  You’ve made mincemeat of these girls’ bottoms, haven’t you?”

“I surely have,” she admitted, guffawing with the rest of the room.

“They’re so blue!  How weak they are, to have accepted that.  I can’t imagine how you thought you could endure a week out here alone with them for company!”

“Honestly—now—I don’t either,” she admitted, standing and playing with herself, leaning forward over Chastity to make out briefly with her husband while their little side-piece took her spanking below them.  “I should have known better.  Fuck I’m so wet right now!” she admitted, straightening up and stepping back, teasing herself with one finger as she looked back and forth between one crying horny girl desperately worshiping her Master’s foot, and the other one helplessly being spanked like a two-year-old.  “Wow.”  She shook her head, appreciative and a little appalled.  “Thank you for intervening on my behalf to save me from… this freak show, girlfriends!”

“That’s what friends are for!” Rivqah laughed. 

Literature Section “07-35 BULLying Cucks for Kicks”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 35 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—5616 words—Accompanying Images:  2176-2186—Published 2025-08-26—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.                                     

2168 07-34 Asuka supervising housecleaning
2169 07-34 Asuka supervising housecleaning
2170 07-34 Sakura supervising gardening
2171 07-34 Sakura supervising gardening
2172 07-34 Haruka supervising washing
2173 07-34 Haruka cooking
2174 07-34 Haruka cooking
2175 07-34 Haruka cooking

PREVIOUSLY:  The second long, perverse, intense day of Channah’s, Chastity’s, and Penance’s honeymoon is over.  They sleep as they feel:  closer to one another than ever before, and more unequal, the internal power dynamics of their relationship further strengthened by Channah’s erotic assertive hunger, Penny’s suffering service, and Chastity’s eagerness to please and belong.  NOW:

They awoke to another perfect morning at the top of the world, a chill in the air perfectly counterbalanced by their tightly-snuggled warm bodies, and the Sun’s indirect light from behind the surrounding mountains a promise of coming warmth.  The flowers in Channah’s garden were as revived as they, blooming to greet the Sun, the air fresh and innocent as Eden, the joyous songs of birds celebrating the world’s rebirth.  All three of the lovers felt invigorated and eager for the day. 

Giggling, the girls carrying their Mistress’s sandals and dress, she led them hand-in-hand to the bath where she watched Penny pick up the jar of soap and stare at it.  Intuiting what Penny was thinking, she asked:  “It tastes awful, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Domina,” she agreed unhappily, reaching her fingers resignedly towards the jar.

“Here,” Channah interrupted her, “Let’s do this right.  Chastity—” she handed her the jar while reaching into the water to remove Penny’s chastity cage, enjoying the way her wife gasped and her eyes widened.  Then she took Penny’s hair in her hand and yanked her head back and down so Penny collapsed on her knees leaning backward in the water, feeling Channah’s legs pressing into her side.  Smiling sexily, Channah scooped up the soap and and barked:  “Open wide, bitch,” giggling and looking turned on when Penny immediately obeyed, even knowing what was coming.  Humming, she smeared the powerful soap around the inside of Penny’s mouth, scrubbing and semi-choking her.  Their eyes were locked on one another’s the whole time, intimate enough to make Chastity feel a pang of jealousy, and Channah began breathing heavier as she watched her prodding fingers force tears to form around the edges of Penny’s eyes.

When she was finished, she held Penny there, half-choking on soap, reaching under the water to confirm with a wider smile that Penny was fully hard.  “You’re coming along well as a wife.  But I’m afraid there’s not enough soap in the world for a girl as dirty as you,” she whispered, giggling as she pushed Penny’s head forward and down, half-drowning the girl as she finally let her rinse her mouth out.  When Penny finally seemed to have gotten as much of the soap out as she could, Channah kept hold of her hair and dragged her backward to the edge of the spring beside a flat rock where she had directed the girls to set her things.  Penny was again held near surface level gazing up at the beautiful blue sky and the even-more-beautiful demoness towering over her.  Fishing out a Persian hard candy, Channah put it in her own mouth, then leaned forward and down to kiss her girl, pushing the sweet and pleasant mint confection into her mouth as they made out.

Without interrupting what she was doing, she stretched her empty hand out towards Chastity and snapped her fingers impatiently.  Figuring it out, Chastity came closer to them with the jar of soap, at once glad and uncomfortable with the strange feeling of still being outside their bubble no matter how physically proximate they were. 

Channah pulled her lips off Penny long enough to murmur:  “You know how to float?”  And when Penny nodded, she commanded:  “On your back, then, bitch!”  getting more soap and laughing as she began working on Penny’s little nub when it came into view at the surface of the water, pleased with how hard it was.  Sniggering, she released her victim suddenly, making her flail to keep her head above water, and teased her:  “I’d tell you to take care of that but you might misinterpret it as permission.”  Suddenly adopting an innocent expression, she asked:  “Do you want me to hit it until it gets soft?  Or can you think good, pure, decent thoughts while you bathe the rest of your body so you’re ready for your cage before we get out?”

“I’ll try—I’ll think decent thoughts, Domina,” Penny promised hoarsely.

“Good girl.  See you do so.  And if I were you, I’d look out over the valley.  The way you’re looking at me now, your little stubby won’t be getting any better-behaved.  If you won’t fit back in your cage when I’m ready to lock you up, I’ll make it wilt.”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny agreed, embarrassed at her sharp laugh and the even sharper one when Penny turned away sharply to look out over the valley and clean herself, trying to tune that out and the noises of Channah flirting with and washing Chastity.

Eventually, when her companions quieted down, the warm spring water and the paradise around them were too peaceful and powerful to ignore and she floated silently in the water, marveling to be there.

“The birds… don’t come into the house,” Penny observed, when there was silence behind her, watching an eagle soar above the valley in front of them. 

“No, they don’t,” Channah agreed happily.  “Not birds, not insects, not rodents.  Only humans and demons—beings with souls—come into the house.”

“Do demons have souls?”  Penny asked curiously, looking over her shoulder at Channah, and then reddened at Channah’s surprised expression.  “I’m sorry Domina, I wasn’t thinking—”

Looking both amused and slightly challenged, she answered:  “I… think so.  Don’t we?”  And then, embarrassed in her own turn when she saw their surprised expressions, asked pointedly:  “How confident are you about humans?”

The girls laughed before realizing she was serious as well as challenging them in turn.  Looking at one another, Penny answered slowly:  “I… think so, too.” 

Meanwhile, Chastity opined:  “Most of us for sure.  I can’t speak to all of us.”  Then Chastity looked at Penny in shock.  “You think so?!  You aren’t sure?!”

Now it was Penny’s turn to look embarrassed.  “Probably,” she allowed, turning her gaze back upon the eagle.  “I think… I feel… I see, I experience… I must have a soul, mustn’t I?”

“If that huge heavy burden you carry around everywhere with you isn’t a soul,” Channah suggested, “You might want to figure out what it is.  Or even better, simply let go of it.”  And then, with an evil laugh:  “And maybe let it go even if it is.”

“NO!”  Penny protested, shocked, whirling around and then seeing her lazily gazing back, amused.

Rolling her eyes, she said:  “Are you ready to get back in your cage now, St. Augustine?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny admitted meekly, moving back towards her Mistress in response to her lazily beckoning fingers. 

Only after they were both locked back up did she lead them out of the bath and tease them by making them dry her off and dress her, sighing with pleasure as she felt their need for her returning and could tell they were feeling the tightness of her bejeweled grip below. 

Just as they turned toward the house, Channah paused with a surprised expression.  “Hang on… I think we have guests!”

Striding to the door barring the entrance to the honeycomb, she pointed to the ground behind her and snapped her fingers, not bothering to wait for them to kneel before she approached the door and opened it, revealing Miriam and Rivqah, dressed to the nines in tight sheer white linen kalasiris that only emphasized, rather than concealed, their voluptuous forms; high-heeled gold mules; and exquisite gold jewelry that was as striking as a whole, as the individual pieces were subtle individually.  They encircled or were draped over or dangled from every part of their bodies, from the tiaras on the crowns of their heads, to the rings around their toes.  They were both hanging on the arms of a huge mountain of a man, fully a foot taller than most men, with broad shoulders, heavy musculature covered with softer subcutaneous fat, and a wide fat belly.  But who was most notable for the charismatic force of personality that radiated out from him like a shockwave.  Complementing the two succubae, he was wearing only a tight sheer white linen shendyt, gold sandals, and his own complement of gold jewelry.  All three of them wore clothing the girls associated so narrowly with ancient Egypt that it seemed incongruous on a man whose features and skin were so obviously East Asian, and his air of danger and reckless self-assurance so clearly those of some barbarian kha-khan. 

To the girls’ shock, Channah positively squealed with delight, rushing forward and crying out joyfully:  “Húanglóng my love!” before embracing the man, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around him and allowing him to whirl in a circle while she clung to him as if she were a cotton doll. 

“My beloved Channah!” he roared back, before kissing her on the lips, while Miriam and Rivqah watched and applauded, sparing only brief smirks of withering contempt for the two red-faced humiliated girls kneeling nude and caged on the ground behind their Queen.  Clearly not all of her husbands were broken and chastised.  Certainly not her first and primary husband, a demon as powerful and distinguished as Húanglóng, King of the Dragons.

When they were finally done, Húanglóng set Channah back on her feet and she asked excitedly:  “However did Miriam and Rivqah pry you away from your Palace of Indolence?  It’s been…”

“Years,” he shrugged casually.  “Possibly decades.  I’m not sure.  But in truth, I see little reason to stir from my own paradise.  No reason, in fact—besides you, of course, my dear.  I’ve hardly even noticed much difference being banished to hell.  Human vice and weakness still bring legions of the vermin to us seeking dragons, gold, and glory….  and we dragons like the dry heat.  And since we, literally, breathe brimstone, we don’t even notice the smell.  Lilith and Cain, it’s been… centuries since I’ve smelled the air of Earth,” he marveled, looking at the beauty around him and drawing in deep breaths of fresh air.  “Maybe I ought to be a little less of a homebody… but finding the right body for a man such as me?  One even fractionally worthy of my presence?  Fortunately, your extraordinary and devoted handmaids found me this body, which even has a…” he shrugged, “somewhat adequate approximation of a cock, to wear to the mortal world.  A rare find indeed!  Miriam and Rivqah, my dears, you have outdone yourselves,” he beamed at them.

“Honestly, happening upon the fellow in Central Asia is what persuaded us to crash your honeymoon!”  Miriam admitted.

“It seemed almost like a sign,” Rivqah interjected.  “Especially knowing how much progress you want to make with your girls!  It occurred to us you could use your husband’s… unique powers.”

Channah considered for a moment and conceded:  “You have a point.  I have every confidence in my little ceshi.  But I’m sure my poor dears don’t stand a chance against the mighty mighty Húanglóng—either in competing for my attention, or resisting him.”  Penny and Chas exchanged a nervous, worried look, but didn’t dare interrupt.

“And I admit, when they told me you had locked yourself away for a week with only a pair of eunuchs for company, well, I… I don’t know,” Húanglóng admitted, looking embarrassed.  “I did feel rather like I’d let the side down with you.  I mean… next you’ll be joining a nunnery!”  The demons collapsed in laughter at the idea, but Channah looked worried and anxious enough, the girls could immediately sense how little she liked the image her honeymoon apparently being painted of her by the wags of hell.  “I had to come and jolly you out of your funk before the other demons started gossiping that your rebellion had already failed!”

“Nonsense!” Channah stamped her foot with outrage at the idea, trying not to show how shaken she was by the suggestion, with thoughtfulness outliving the outrage and lingering behind.  “But you’re right, it is too dangerous to risk making them even start to believe a pair of lowly jawari matter a whit to me.  Let alone speculating why.”

“Of course, it’s nonsense!” Húanglóng agreed, waving his hands dismissively, “but locked up in hell, in their own miserable little realms—nothing like my beautiful pleasure palace—all the rest of them can do is gossip jealously!”

“Well, it’s ridiculous.  I’ve been returning to exploring of my own, remembering my masculine side for the first time in… years, certainly,” she conceded, before acknowledging again:  “But anything that attracts notice to my affairs… especially my wives… is unwanted.”  Frowning, she continued:  “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

“Certainly, my dear!”  And they had another long, languorous kiss before separating, Húanglóng almost stepping back onto Chastity by accident.  Looking down, he frowned.  “Are these your little cucks?  I’ll look forward to seeing what you’ve trained them to do!”

“Oh, it’s early days yet,” Channah admitted, looking slightly embarrassed for some reason.  “That was one of the reasons I planned the honeymoon, to catch them up on their training before I put them to work!  Without imagining I might be with you!  Rivqah and Miriam, my sisters, what a perfect gift this is for me.”  Then, her voice becoming harsh, she barked over her shoulder:  “Girls, fall on your bellies and suck the toes of your Master and Brother-Husband.”  They looked up at her with shock, and then immediately fear to see the intense insistence in her voice and eyes, before blushing, forcing themselves to the ground, and pushing their tongues under his toes to lift them enough to suck.  Above them, they could hear Miriam and Rivqah sniggering and clapping with delight as Channah hissed:  “That’s the way.  You know he’s your better in every way that would matter to a male, don’t you?”

“A little slow for my taste,” Húanglóng opined judgmentally at the girls.  “I can see why you don’t think they’re ready yet.  But I expect we can help you discipline and train them better while we’re here, if you don’t want to keep all the fun to yourself.”

“So…” Channah smiled mischievously.  “Did you have a plan for your visit?  Or are we simply winging it?”

“Planned?!  Oh, have we ever!”  Miriam burst.  “But you have no need to worry about it.   Why don’t the two of you celebrate your reunion and let us take care of everything else?”

“Awww….” Channah gazed at them fondly.  “You two are my heart,” she exclaimed, hugging them both tightly before stripping off her robe and kicking off her shoes, an action Húanglóng immediately copied.  “Do you remember where the bedroom is?” she asked her husband.

“It doesn’t matter… I want to follow and watch your sinuous and spellbinding walk, my goddess,” Húanglóng confessed.  “Please, lead my way so I can follow!”  And giggling, she sprinted for the house, with Húanglóng eagerly—and her wives’ eyes despairingly—following her wide buttocks and long legs propelling her towards their marital bed.

The girls’ view was interrupted before the happy couple disappeared around the corner of the garden path by Rivqah’s high-heeled sandals, as she stepped forward and then bent down, smirking into their eyes as they sheepishly looked up to meet hers.  “You two must really feel like emasculated sissies now, mustn’t you?” 

And when they didn’t speak, her brows knitted together and her face darkened until the two girls nodded frantically.  “Yes, Domina.”

“Yes, Domina, what?!”

“Yes—yes, we feel like emasculated sissies, Domina.”

“Too slow again, but better!  How much she must be coddling you!  I’m so relieved we intervened before you two completely unlearned all your manners and skills.  Why do you suppose you feel that way?” She then asked, raising an eyebrow expectantly while they exchanged a worried look, uncertain of their lines, before Penny figured it out and whispered, turning scarlet:

“Because we are emasculated sissies, Domina.”

“Quite!” she announced triumphantly.  “Pathetic!  Now gather up your Masters’ clothing and follow us to the house!”

The girls had been aware there were other figures in the honeycomb behind the three demons, but had neither the time nor the permission to pay them much attention before.  Now they—seven people, loaded with boxes and crates and equipment—emerged to follow Miriam and Rivqah without so much as a glance behind them, all their senses focused on not tripping in their haste to keep up with Rivqah and Miriam.  Four of them were male, three of them female.  Three of them were very pale—too pale to be human—and four of them were of human pallor and appearance, although the girls had learned not to make too many assumptions about what they might expect or find.  Two of those with a human appearance—Penny was sure—looked familiar. 

The girls scrambled to their feet to obey Rivqah’s command.

In fact, when they set down their burdens, the girls could confirm two of the recruits brought here by Channah’s Ladies’ Maids were known to them.  The first was none other than their qahramanah, Esmeray, who appeared to be about as discombobulated and anxious about being here instead of training her other jawari as the girls were to have her.  The other was, even more surprisingly, Big George, the carpenter of Fensmere. If anything, George was even more surprised to see them than they were to see him.  “You—you’re beautiful women now!” he managed, staring waay to long and not quite as delighted as Roger, Cutter, and Martin had been.  “What’s going on?”

“Channah has helped them realize their innermost desires, and become the things they have always yearned to be,” Miriam explained.

“Hallelujah!”  George proclaimed, immediately and automatically followed by Penny’s and Chas’s responses.

Taken aback, Esmeray asked:  “What was that?!” 

They looked embarrassed, but George answered:  “I don’t know, it just seemed to fit.  It sounded like she was praying or—”

“Like a benediction,” Penny offered, when George couldn’t find the right word.

“Yeah, like that.” 

The couple they did not recognize had swarthy skin and dark hair, perhaps Turkish like Esmeray, or Persian, or Arab.  The woman, distinguished from her colleagues by the fact she was not staggering under her burdens, carried only a long narrow bag in one hand and an elaborately inlaid lacquered case in the other.  She carried both of them protectively, it being obvious they were prized possessions she would not have wanted anyone else to carry for her, and seemed interested in everything around her as if she were having the experience of a lifetime.  The last was an intense, slim but well-muscled young man, who somehow managed to look amused, bemused, eager, and resentful as hell, all at the same time.  Both of them were dressed much as Húanglóng, Rivqah, and Miriam had been, the young man’s sheer loincloth leaving no doubt as to why he had been invited to this particular party, or that he would be a popular guest.

The other three were gwailou, pale demons:  a beautiful woman, a beautiful young man, and a fussy old man, all of them, as the girls would learn, Japanese; and all of them appearing…. ‘Pale’ wasn’t really the right word.  But it fit insofar as it made sense to everyone who set eyes on one, and there was certainly no better way the girls could think to describe them.  ‘Washed-out’ would have been too harsh.  ‘Insubstantial’ would have been inaccurate.  And ‘white’ would have been outright misleading.  Yet there was something about them that gave them the hint of death or absence, and not being quite full-dimensioned creatures of the mortal world.  All of them seemed resentful of the pitiful girls they had first found kneeling caged, nearly-naked, and largely ignored on the ground; a mystery that was slowly solved as it emerged they had been brought here to do the tedious domestic chores Channah had planned for her girls, so the girls could be impressed to serve Miriam’s and Rivqah’s wicked, and presumably less boring, purposes instead.

The woman, who they would learn was actually a succubus named Tiferet, followed the happy couple up the stairs, still carrying her bag and case.

Miriam instructed the humans and gwailou while Rivqah disappeared into the supply room.  After they had put the kitchen supplies in the kitchen, and the other supplies in the storeroom, Miriam commanded:  “Asuka, clean the house!  And stay away from the succubae.  None of us want to be bothered with servants today.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the old man bowed, something unpleasant and resistant shimmering across his face but almost immediately suppressed, before he half-slunk out of sight, half-winked out of their awareness.

“Sakura, tend to the garden and also stay away from the guests—make it perfect!” 

“Yes, Mistress,” the beautiful young man bowed, his jaw set, disappearing with much the same strange combination of normal movement and magic as Asuka.

“Esmeray, the girls are already in their leathers but we want them leashed, with their wrists bound in front of them and their legs hobbled, before you bring them up.  But first, you girls, help and obey Haruka prepare drinks and food for us.  Unquestioningly and immediately.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the beautiful pale woman and her crew of helpers curtsied before their Domina, having nowhere to go from the kitchen they were already standing in.

“When Haruka has given you everything to bring up to us and tells you you’re done in the kitchen, Esmeray, lead your jawari up to us and kneel with them, watching and learning in respectful silence until and unless you’re called on.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Domina!”  The three of them responded.

“Excellent!” 

“And, needless to say, Haruka, nobody wants to see you, either,” Rivqah added as she breezed back into the kitchen, carrying the two lacquered boxes from among Fang’s wedding presents to Channah and smirking significantly at the girls.  George, sounding confused, asked:  “What would you like me to do, Mistresses?”

The two succubae exchanged an excited glance and broke out laughing as they took his huge hands in theirs.  “You’re coming with Jacob and us to join the adults!  We’ve heard some rumors about you that we’re most eager to confirm!”  And they began leading him up the stairs, followed by the other young man, it taking a minute for George to work out what they were talking about and start grinning.  Behind them, Esmeray looked relieved to have been left behind; while Penny and Chastity looked crushed.

Until Haruka, already crabby with the two girls for what was—from her point of view—their privileged status, walked between them, grabbing and holding their ears in unecessarily tight pinches that made them whine, and led them to the stove.

Literature Section “07-34 An Intervention to Rescue Channah from Accepting Sexual Mediocrity”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 34 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—3764 words—Accompanying Images:  2168-2175—Published 2025-08-25—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

2155 07-33 Queen of Blood
2156 07-33 Rich, Raw, and Rotten
2157 07-33 Decadent as Sin
2158 07-33 Channah’s “ScorpiosKiss” profile on eHarmony
2159 07-33 Channah’s “Verybadgirl666” public profile photo on Tinder
2160 07-33 Channah’s “Man’s Ruin” public profile photo on Match.com
2161 07-33 Channah’s “DevoutSubmissiveMary” profile pic on ChristianMingle.com
2162 07-33 Channah’s “HardWorkingObedientBreeder” profile pic on SecondWife.com
2163 07-33 Channah’s “UsefulObedientUnicorn” profile pic on SecondWife.com image

2164 07-33 Fang’s “FreeLovePartyGirl” profile on Jiayuan.com
2165 07-33 Fang’s “ZeroBridePriceAllWorkersCompanion” profile photo on Jiayuan.com
2166 07-33 a succubus catfishing as “BayouBassBeauty” on PlentyofFish.com
2167 07-33 a succubus catfishing as “SouthernComfort” on PlentyofFish.com

CAUTION:  Contains themes of sin and self-destructiveness some readers may find disturbing (even the abridged version).

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, prostatestimulation, cleanup, orgasm, and consensualnonconsent, themes at 07-33X The Kiss of Shame at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning in Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  An otherwise pleasant, fascinating, and companionable dinner ends with a sharp reminder of her wives’ status as her abject slaves—and heats up as Channah persuades Penny she was made and born to be the adoring slave of an evil bitch princess like her.  NOW:

Penance’s surrender to Channah’s will, as always, followed her surrender to her own passions, which Channah commanded and orchestrated with the skill of a grand maestro.  Soon, kneeling between Channah’s legs, on the floor before her seat, Penny, vulnerable and naked but for her bonds and slave tack, hugged her tightly with her face buried in Channah’s belly and crotch, kissing her through her dress and professing, over and over, her hopeless exaltation of and affection for a demoness Queen of Hell; while Chastity, Penny’s companion, similarly vulnerable, knelt behind Penny hugging Channah’s legs and Penny’s shoulders.

Recognizing opportunity when she saw it, and desire when she felt it, Channah gasped involuntarily, deliberately inflaming both girls’ already-alcohol-lubricated passions with her touch before daring the momentary interruption required to withdraw her hands, lift Penny’s shoulders slightly off her, and stagger to her feet, growling:  “Come!  Follow me, pup!” while grabbing Penny’s hair and pulling her mercilessly, forcing her to scramble in her hands and knees to keep up, with Chastity trailing like a lost pup behind her.  Obediently crawling behind Her, on hands and knees over the hard stone floor, unable or unwilling to ask for or demand any better treatment, instead accepting the hard yanking of her hand gripping Penny’s long hair and setting an unreasonable, biped pace for her meek, servile, crawling slave, made Penny blush with the reality of how pathetic and abject a thing she had become for her pushy, demanding Master.  She felt her cheeks burn with the shame of allowing herself to be degraded, and indeed participating in her own degradation, for her Domina’s glorification or simple convenience.  And behind her, semi-neglected, trailing behind because she had nowhere else to go and just hoped for any stray attention she could get from either one of the deeply-entangled people her heart ached for, afterthought Chastity felt like the lowest and loneliest loser in the world. 

Channah walked to a wide, comfortable lounge chair piled with pillows against a wall facing the garden, throwing a wide pillow practically large enough to be a mattress to the ground in front of the divan and dragging Penny to kneel on top of it before her as she plumped down with a pleased sigh onto the lounge proper, continuing to hold Penny’s hair in one hand, head tipped up to look straight at her, feeding her girl’s desire and whipping it to a frenzy through the connection between them.  With her other hand, she swept the panels of her dress to the sides, snorting at Penny’s surprise and obvious arousal at suddenly facing her bare, warm body.  “Both of you look,” she commanded, using her other hand to spread herself.  “Look!  Don’t be slow and make me interrupt us with a lengthy lesson.  Penance, you know you are ignorant of all things female; even of your own new body.  But I’m sure you want to learn, everything you can, don’t you honey?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny nodded earnestly, her eyes wide, miserably embarrassed at being called out on her inexperience, which she worried her two companions looked down on her for.  As if they didn’t already have enough reason to despise her for her weakness and softness.  But around her Domina, especially so close to her magnificent, warm body, the physical manifestation of she who Penny adored so much, she couldn’t even think straight.  Like a planet shaken to pieces or a star shredded by a more-powerful, larger-gravity body in space, the tidal force of her was greater than Penny’s own sense of self, so overwhelming her in proximity, Channah destroyed Penny’s own ability to know herself, eclipsing her very identity with her greatness and splendor.  Penny understood, as never before, that someone as ephemeral and insubstantial as herself could not even exist in such proximity to a greater existence; let alone shine or be seen in the light-shadow of her radiant, overwhelming magnificence.  How, Penny marveled, could nothing resist everything when it negated and absorbed and outshone Penny’s very existence?  Manifestly, it seemed to Penny, it could not; why would it even try?  She felt almost that she shouldn’t exist, something as paltry and ghostly as she was; a mere shadow of her Domina.  How dare she insult her goddess by even thinking of herself as something separate or unique?  At the same time, as her very identity was occulted, her passions and awareness narrowed and sharpened, taking her first clear, fully-awed, considered look in full light at her Domina’s—or any woman’s—sex.  Even as her conscious mind, such as it still was, tried to comprehend the holy shrine she had been given to gaze upon, what it was, what it meant, her animal brain and instincts raced into it at the speed of a galloping horse, shuddering and literally even salivating at the very sight of it whether she understood anything about it or not.  She was barely even aware of how electrified she was by the faintest, faintest whiff of her aroused Domina’s orchid, and the moisture gathering like dew at the root of her.  Penny’s eyes and lips fell slack and passive with a sense of connection and importance that overwhelmed them and rendered them as passive and accepting as Channah rendered Penny’s very soul.

Behind Penny, the sad nearly-forgotten shadow of her two companions, came Chastity.  If Penny was pulled in too closely and tightly, Chastity was ignored; a distant planet, beyond even the orbit of Jupiter, not even visible to two sets of eyes locked upon one another.  A lonely planet or asteroid with so little significance, it tumbled invisibly and undetectably in the unimaginable depth of space, wishing if only it could be embraced and torn apart by the tidal force of love!  If Penny was shredded and annihilated by her union with Channah, Chastity felt the incomparable pain of irrelevance, so far removed from her own center of gravity she was neglected and might as well not even exist.  But staring, helplessly and desperately, at the same Sun as Penny, each of them powerless and disempowered by their sun goddess in their own way.

The Sun was speaking, and her captive bodies hung helplessly on her very words:  “So I know you will attend carefully and remember every word.  Chastity—you are not such a stranger to women, but even so, people—especially young people like you’ve probably lain with before the succubae—are stupid and ignorant and dishonest, and sometimes they’re different from one another.  So listen to me well because I will hold you accountable for knowing the truth, and what works for me—not whatever little bits of wisdom you may imagine you may have gleaned from your previous partners.”

“Yes, Domina,” Chastity agreed, swallowing nervously and understanding her message.

“Everything down here, every part of my body, like yours, is sensual and erogenous; and worthy of your reverence, just as every woman’s body is worthy of every male’s reverence.  A woman decides what her body is.  And I insist my body is sacred to all males.  Sacred and profane, pure and filthy, consecrated and desecrated, all at once, perfect and balanced, all things I want it to be.  For you, it will be heavenly and hellish but always sacred.  You will never disrespect it or dishonor it.  It will be a heavenly focus of your deepest dreams and desires and male spirit, as it is for all who desire women.  Hellish enough it is for men, who I allow and indeed seduce to try and claim it, so I may damn them.  Yet it will be even more hellish for you girls because with both of you, always, it will be for my pleasure only, with my most-special place:  off-limits to every kind of pleasure you might desire to take from it, ever.”  Licking her lips with pleasure at their pained expressions, absorbing and knowing the painful truth of her words, she continued to taunt them:  “You will never ever enjoy this the way I routinely command, seduce, and even beg for men to enjoy it.”  Both girls groaned desperately and sadly, practically flinching from the force of the truth.  Her Truth, now theirs as well, their hopeless miserable devotion pleasing her more.  “And for the two of you, it is more special still:  sacred, because it belongs to your Domina, and your Domina is worthy of her title:  a dominant, demanding bitch.”  She shook Penny’s hair, a little roughly, jutting her jaw out, challenging her to object.  “Just the way you like it, submissive little bitch.  You see—” she indicated with her middle finger.  “Pay attention!  Here, at the bottom, this is the most unholy place where men go.  To please me you will be expected to attend to every part of my body allowed to you with reverence and adoration; but you—your bodies—are and always will be denied access to this most sacrosanct space.  This is for men.  The most sensitive spot inside me, as Chastity may imagine she knows, is on the top of my passage, a little bit in.  Every woman and succubus is unique, so you must always pay attention to your assigned Mistresses and Masters and learn them, exactly and intuitively, the way a musician learns her instrument.  For succubae, because we are thrice blessed,” she smiled coquettishly, “the sensitive area stretches…” another smirk “much further.  Neither of you will ever touch or see any part of it; and even if I allowed you to try, you wouldn’t be able to reach it with your little things.”  Seeing their agonized but helplessly wanton expressions, she shuddered and groaned with satisfaction.  “You miserable little losers.  But you need to remember where things are in case I command you to fetch me a toy that can please me in the way you never could—” she snickered.  “When you find the sensitive place, you will know, from my reactions.  When you care for it and attend to it properly, you will definitely know.  So remember to always be attentive to my reactions and commands, verbal or otherwise.”

“Yes, Domina,” they responded automatically, emotionless in response to her humbling words, but eyes never departing her demonstration, both of them breathing heavier when she moaned suggestively.

“You always have to start gently, outside on the skin, and then move in slowly towards the more sensitive places, unless I jump on you or tell you otherwise.  Only once I—or your qahramanah, or anyone else you are required to service—is well-prepared and excited, should you consider using a toy here.

“This place—” she moved her finger slightly up “just above it, in the middle, Is my urethra.  Sometimes girls like you have trouble finding it.  But for you two girls specifically, who are to stay away from my most precious flesh, this is the closest you will ever get to it.  Sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly contemptuous toward my submissives and your weaknesses, I may use this on you.  Or when an actual man is being rough with me, I may have to call you to clean me up as a side-effect of his attentions.  At all other times, it is off-limits to you because it is too close.  You may only touch it when I call you to attend to it.”

“Finally, here—” she raised her finger a bit more, to the top.  “Is my tulip.  Do you know what makes it so special?”  And when neither girl had an answer, she continued:  “It is the only organ of the human—or demonic—body devoted exclusively to physical pleasure.  Your little parts—such as they are—play important roles in practical bodily functions, but my clitoris has only one job, and exists for only one reason:  to give me pleasure.  In these respects, it is like a sister to the two of you chastened girls.  My pleasure should and must be your only imperative, your entire world.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Domina,” they nodded, Penny swallowing and starting to pinken a bit; while Chastity looked like all she wanted to do was to start practicing.

“It will be the center of your attentions when I allow you the privilege of worshiping me.  You should eventually—not at first, but eventually—make this your sole and total focus.  Again, you will know by my reactions when you are worshiping the right place, and when you are worshiping it with the skill and reverence that it deserves.  Do you see?”  And when Penny started to nod, before either of them could say anything, she growled:  “Then kiss me properly, slave,” using her grip on Penny’s hair to pull her in tight.

Her other hand was now free; and she raised it toward Chastity’s face.  Sniggering at the girl’s nearly-crosseyed expression, Channah put the same fingerbetween Chastity’s lips.  “Can you taste me, villain?”

“ymph,” she answered, nodding reverently.

“Stand up and hand me the oil from the table.  Good girl.  Now spread your legs apart… mmmm…. And shuffle forward.  Come on!  Closer.  Don’t be shy, work your way forward, right over your girlfriend, until your knees are pressed between her rib cage and my knees.  Penny!” she barked, trying to contain her laughter.  “Don’t you dare stop!  No matter what you may feel or hear happening up here.  Do you understand, girl?” 

“Yms dmmn” she nodded vigorously, her voice muffled and garbled. 

“What did I tell you?  Or have you forgotten already?  When you are servicing me that gorgeous tulip becomes the epicenter of your world!  The meaning of—for—your life!  Now show me what a good and serious student you are while we play up here.  Don’t tell me you think there’s some better use to which we could put your tongue or your time?  Is that what you’re suggesting?!  That I’m wrong?!”

“Nmn dmnh!” came an urgent yelp, as Channah reached down and swatted each of Penny’s bruised cheeks playfully, but sharply. 

“You’d better not!”  she huffed bossily, just before twitching and grunting with a gasp.  “Better!  Keep at it!”

And then, with a devilish look up at Chastity, she reached forward and expertly removed her most-restrictive item of tack, enjoying Chastity’s amazed and delighted gasp, and the sudden look of excitement in her eyes.  Without breaking their eye contact, Channah—using her legs to squeeze Penny in place—played with Chastity with one hand, -0and poured oil all over her, careless of the oil dripping down onto Penny’.  “Three guesses where this is going, lover.”

“Penny?” Chastity answered hoarsely.

“Oh no don’t you dare move or even pause!” Channah barked down at Penny, laughingly, raising her legs and folding them over Penny’s back, driving her high heels into the girl’s flesh like spurs to a horse, even as she shifted her hips forward a bit under Penny, ooching to the very edge of the lounge and getting more comfortable.  Returning her attention to Chastity, she answered as if surprised:  “Well of course!”  Channah laughed sharply.  “We both know what a protesting little prude Penny likes to pose as, but have you ever seen her react like one?”

“Well… no,” Chastity laughed, half-nervously, half-excitedly.

“Of course not.  She’s a girl!  Just like she’s always wanted to be!  Now I can’t reach anymore—” she handed Chastity the bottle.  “Slather this everywhere.  Be generous!  Oh!  That’s good, Penny!”  She waved her hand at Chastity, nestling back on the pillows piled behind her so she was half-sitting, half reclining, and relaxed, pulling open her dress and touching her body as she stared into Chastity’s eyes.  “Mmmm…. This all feels sooo good,” she purred, arching her back just a bit.  “Well go on!  I want to see the show!  Wait—hand me that cup of pineapple!”  And when she had it, she picked up a slice with two delicately-curved fingers and pushed it sensually into her mouth:  “Mm!  Good!  Showtime!”

The moment Chas’s hand touched Penny, the younger girl bucked in surprise and Channah laughingly bullied her again:  “Don’t pretend you’re a virgin, girlie!  Or that you don’t enjoy this!  We’ve both seen the proof otherwise!  And besides, you should be too busy thinking about your duty to me for you to be worrying about what’s going on behind you!  Show me—show us—you want this by spreading your knees out wide like a good little bitch.  Go on!  I’m going to be veeerryy disappointed if—yes!” she interrupted herself, clapping with delight, to see Penny’s knees move and sharing a conspiratorial glance with Chas as she raised the bottle of oil high in the air and tipped it to drop a thin stream of oil to spatter below. 

Under them both, concealed from them by Channah’s skirts, Penny felt her cheeks burn with humiliation as she spread her legs for her best friend at the command of her master:  not from a proper manly rage at the suggestion, or outrage at being forced to do something against her will, but from the utter embarrassment and shame of voluntarily—willingly—surrendering her own power and autonomy and dignity to her Mistress by spreading herself in this way.  And the absolute certainty that Channah’s sex was so sweetly overwhelming, her skin so soft and fragrant, her personality so forceful, and Penny’s feelings of desperation and adoration so powerful, that Penny would willingly—eagerly—do much more than this for her.  That Penny could not imagine, in this second, anything she would refuse to do for her Domina.  And in that moment, Penny, to her shame, knew and understood what it meant to be a lowly, hopeless, irredeemable slave, defined and limited by the status assigned and allowed to her by her Unholy Master.

“Good girl,” Channah praised Penny with the tone and excess cheer one used in addressing a pet, making circles with her fingertips and purring.  “Such a good girl… and your mouth!… oh, Penny, I think you’ve got a talent for this….  Chas, silly girl, take your time!  I want to see your hand massaging that oil into Penny’s soft skin and spreading it  “Mmmm!  Yeah, just like that, slow and sensual… it will make Penny hotter, too!  Oh!  Penny, baby, I’m so hot… a little harder and slower]—ungh!  Chas, honey, slip your fingers in Penny first, running them like tongues around the inside!  Help spread her for you like a flower begging a wasp to make it give up its nectar!  Yes!  Just like that, Pleaser… oh, baby, that’s the way to earn—and own—your nickname….  Now, stay focused on me, keep your mind and your body calm and relaxed, a meditative and worshipful state, that’s what I want for you right now!  Meditative and worshipful and passive and open and perhaps most importantly of all, accepting!  It’s not enough to not-resist us, slave!  You need to invite and welcome and actively admit us!  Join in our domination with your own submission to prove your loyalty and devotion with every breath!  Be as active and enthusiastic in your submission as we are in our domination!  This is what I expect and in fact, demand for you!”

“Meanwhile, allow Chastity to focus on you and do whatever she wants—and I want her to do—with your body.  It’s Chastity’s job to pleasure you both; but it’s your job to pleasure me, all the way, with all your heart and soul!  Your job is so important, but so simple, I’m going to leave you to it and trust you, baby, trust you to keep your mind and your heart on me, no matter what your sisterwife and me are doing to your sweet, soft little body.  You’re hardly going to feel her back there after the last two days so don’t even pretend to be distracted from your duties!  Can I trust you, Pleaser?  Can I trust you to love me right?  To make me your top and only priority and ignore all those naughty, dirty little feelings Chastity and I are giving you down deep in your belly?”

“Yexshnm dmnuh!” Penny managed to sob without any appreciable interruption in the performance of her duties.

“Actually, fuck!  Fuck!  That’s—ah!—not enough!  Penny, that’s not all I want from you!  I want all of you, every bit of you—your body and your soul!  While I treat you like a rented mule.  I need—I demand!—your complete and total surrender, Pleaser, in return for my utter contempt.  Give it to me, your total and complete devotion—your damned worship!—while I use you up for my pleasure like the evil bitch I am!  Can you do that?  Will you do that, for me?!”  And whispered, cruelly and most passionately of all:  “Isn’t that—amn’t I—what you want?  Everything you’ve ever wanted?”

Penny wanted to shake her head at the sheer preposterousness of Channah’s words!  The absurdity!  They were mad!  She was mad to imagine—to think—Penny couldn’t even believe the effrontery of this—this wicked demoness—to even give word to what her fevered, diseased, cursed mind imagined.  What she asked….  It wasn’t right.  Penny knew this!  Anyone even hearing what she said would know it.  And it was so stupid!  Because—because—

Penny was already kneeling between her legs, under her legs, as eagerly as a stray dog who felt she had finally found a home, free to do so precisely because she had forgotten herself!  Allowed—no, to be honest, striven to let herself—forget who she was and who she expected herself to be—what God had once hoped for her.

Tears stung her eyes at the cheek!  It was… Penny realized, as she breathed in and through the powerful, intoxicating smell of Channah’s hot, sweaty body, her tired tongue sore from all her worship and devotions, her own tiny, inadequate bound thoughtlessly in steel, aching and crushed by Channah’s casual mechanical cruelty while both Penny’s partners expected to—were—taking and using her body for themselves, for their own pleasure and satisfaction, at Channah’s command, while Penny was given nothing except insults and orders…

Penance wanted to scream.  Had she not even changed who she was, altered her very body, shaped her very identity, to match and please this temptress?!  It was, in a word, unnecessary to ask her this!  To ask her to give it a name, to describe it—to hold up the unfairness and the atrocity and the scandalous, scandalous disgrace and wrongness of it to the light for everyone—especially the smug and privileged taker Channah—more especially the stupid, weak, needy, desperate girl who couldn’t even remember who she used to be or what her name had been before, because it felt so distant when she was here where she belonged and needed to be—to see and have to face it!

It was… so unnecessarily and deliberately cruel!

That was the outrage of it!  The evil genius of it… Making her weigh, and hate, and consciously, verbally, in the presence of others in the last but lingering light of day, choose the outrageousness and unfairness of her demand!  Who—who would be so vile as to ask?  And—she knew.  She knew, the even bigger and more-obvious question as:  who would be so wretched as to give—such a thing?

Penny paused her worship just long enough to bellow and roar like a gored ox, in a terrible, wounded, outrageous-realization-of-dying kind of way, as she felt the pain of Channah’s rapacious needle push through her soul, tearing it to pieces and turning it into some trophy like a pelt.  And felt simultaneously, the release of it:  the soaring freedom, the peace of surrendering to her better, admitting, most of all to herself, that Channah was her better; and crucially, that she was nothing, that of course she wanted to let go of everything she had been and thought she could have been or should have been, because who wanted any of that?  And knowing… knowing the awful truth of it that a proper man, or even a proper woman would never have to face:

She.

Was.

Damned.

By.

Love:

Her own fierce and passionate heart, torching and overwhelming her own weakness and desire.

It was just a fact.

She knew it.

Channah obviously knew it, a thought that still hurt, to imagine what contempt she must feel when she looked at or thought of Penny.

And so what, if Channah was making her own it?  Using her own grubby hellish fingers to stuff her vile shit into Penny’s mouth, filling it and overwhelming her, every one of her senses rebelling and collapsing in Penny’s utter failure of will and self, knowing, God help her—no, nothing could help her, least of all herself:  Knowing, worst of all, she wanted to choke down the demonic filth of what Channah was feeding her and only. forcing her to take to make her confront the truth of them both, and how and why they went together so perfectly. 

She felt Channah gasp, the two of them so connected her better top half understood, immediately and completely, the significance of Penny briefly dropping her mouth further, before returning to the place she had been commanded, dissolving back into tears again, her natural and wretched state before—no, beneath—this—this fucking cunt—that made her tongue feel all the sweeter and more tender to her demoness-goddess’s electrified flesh:  “Yes, Domina!  You fucking cunt!  You evil fucking bitch!”  She screeched.  She wailed.  She screamed and wept:  “I do!  I will!  I give myself over to you utterly!  I SURRENDER!  Use me, please use me, I beg of you never stop using me, Domina!”

And the second she said it, Channah was gushing and roaring, her eyes rolling up in her head and the whole world dimming around her as she reeled with a delirium near losing consciousness, and delivering her own merciless, devastating answer that would have been disjointed rambling to anyone other than her own heart and lower half that in matters of the two of them, knew her as well as she knew herself:   “Oh!  You’re—you know you’re—the fucking bitch, girl—boy—you piece of shit!  Yes!  MINE!   Body, mind, and soul!  Iiiieeee!  The things I’m going to make you accept—you—you—you fucking know it, don’t you, you perverted little cunt?  You’re the cunt, you fucking little shit-eater!  Now, Chastity darling!  Seize your heart’s desire!  Take what you want!  Ah haa haa haa…..” her cries faded into sensual, almost stereotyped moans as her mind and body floated further and further apart, without losing the vitality of their complete connection, ecstatic in the knowledge of the completeness with which she had destroyed, absorbed, possessed, and owned the pretty, pliant, pathetic thing down between her legs. 

And made her victim acknowledge and in fact proclaim it!

There was simply nothing left in the world, not in this moment, not for the two of them, not in that tiny point of space where she and Penance had merged and collapsed from two separate beings into a single dynamic.

Channah hung there, at her plateau, for an impossibly long time.  At some point, around the same time her girls reached their own climaxes, Chastity wailing, Penny just sobbing and shaking her own head in disbelief, Channah drifted back to herself long enough to realize she was crying.  Her cries of passion had morphed into tears of joy and freedom and letting go of everything because none of it mattered.  Nothing else mattered for now.

With a cry of a satisfaction and completeness she may never have quite experienced before, she finally kicked the pillows off the divan and rolled onto her side.  “Get up here!” she barked.  “I demand it!  The—your—Osculum Infame, cunt!” Delighting to hear the shocked sound Penny was able to make even as low as she was, to accept and embrace that, so far from the devoted little good girl she had once been, how far she had fallen in just a matter of days under Channah’s relentless, rapacious influence.  “Damn yourself with your own degradation.  I want my true bitch, my little demon-slut, the one who knows how thoroughly she has given herself to the Queen of Hell, to give me her Kiss of Shame!” 

And she was not surprised—her girls were not surprised, least of all Penny—to find that it was Penny who instantly, almost without a thought, almost desperately, scrambled up on her divan behind her—below her—to yield and throw herself into it, knowing she was the one, and that this was her unholy office.  

For no reason other than to give it even more force by spelling it out, for Penny’s abandon was already complete, she growled:  “That’s it, you utterly-damned loser.  Pull apart my buttocks, sink your face between them into the cleft of my ass, and worship my unholiest of roses!  NOW!   And you!  My afterthought—afterbirth—of a sisterwife, get behind my dirt-eater and use your own tongue to lubricate her the same way she is soothing me, so you can sodomize her again, double-damning both of you while she seals her pact and status!   And bitch-Penny, don’t you dare stop licking and kissing until I’m snoring and your little friend has spent herself again!”

Feeling Penny’s abject, villainous tongue, pushing against and slighty into her, as much as the girl could manage with her inadequate human tongue, Channah shuddered with another, entirely emotional orgasm.  “That’s right.  That’s right.  No—that’s wrong.  You’re wrong.  As bent and twisted as a White Mulberry tree—a fucking corkscrew!  You’re—we’re—so – bloody – wrong!   You filthy, vile, dire, nasty little boys.  Don’t you dare wash yourselves until I give you permission.  I want you to sleep and think and feel and in Penny’s case, literally breathe me, breathe the stink of your own filth, and mine, all night!”  Stretching her legs out and curling them behind her on the long divan where Penny lay, she enjoyed feeling Penny’s soft warm skin and breath pressing up against her backside and the backs of her legs, with the counterpoint of cool, hard steel pressing into the soles of Channah’s feet like some obscene tease or promise. 

Sighing with what she realized must be happiness, the demoness jiggled her foot, a thoughtless, nervy twitch to her, but pure torture to her victim, against Penny’s cage, rattling it and shivering it over the tightly-constrained flesh within it, imagining how tightly Chastity’s face must be pressed up against Penny’s backside in turn, feeling Penny stiffen and hearing her gasp as she briefly felt the same devotion she was giving to her Mistress.

“Is your little cage sticky and wet, slave?” she whispered, smiling, her smile widening at Penny’s murmured, delirious, ashamed response:

“Yes, Domina.  Goddess.  Bitch-Goddess!”

“I thought so,” she smirked with contemptuous satisfaction, melting into the feeling and the thought, her words slowing and becoming disjointed as she began to sink into her sensual, rapacious, revivifying kind of sleep.  “After I’m well and truly asleep, deep and still, miles from here ranging the world, Penny can lie behind me, back-to-back with her head against my ass; and each girl can kiss the mess between the other’s legs before you fall asleep.  I want you both good and crammed between my back and the cushions against the wall, without polluting a single inch of me with your obscenity.”  And she fell, gently and slowly as a babe in a swaddling blanket, into dreamland with the soft, wet, pleasant lapping of Penny’s tongue on her dirty rosebud, and the slight sensation of Penny’s face being pushed and pulled against her by Chastity’s own desperation.

Literature Section “07-33[X] The Kiss of Shame”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 33 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 5305 words::Explicit 5617 words—Accompanying Images:  2155-2167—Published 2025-08-17—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

2146 07-32 Aztec Feast
2147 07-32 It’s what’s for dinner
2148 07-32 The OTHER other white meat
2149 07-32 Voracious Eater
2150 07-32 Are you kidding?  I *LOVE* sissies!
2151 07-32 Boys melt in my mouth or my hands or anywhere I damn well tell them to!
2152 07-32 You wanna play with fire?  Then come play with me…
2153 07-32 So good… I bet I can’t eat just one

Additional image containing cannibalistic themes at 07-32X Spicy Hot Dangerous Eating in Mesoamerica at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After a round of rough angry sex leaving her girls feeling compliant and adoring, and sending the girls to do chores while she worked, her girls have prepared dinner.  NOW:

Channah took her girls, Chastity and Penance, by their hands and led them to the dining room.  “Oh, that’s lovely!” she beamed, leading them to her seat at the head of the table, facing the garden, and then pausing expectantly.  The girls dropped her hands and pulled her chair back from the table for her, then once she had sat, pushed her back in. 

Penny laid her napkin in her nap, apologizing:  “I’m sorry, Domina, we hope you are pleased with the food.  We didn’t—we aren’t even sure what most of this is!” while Chastity poured her wine, looking surprised and concerned when she caught the smell from the bottle. 

Channah laughed:  “It’s not really ‘wine,’ is it?” she teased.  “Because they don’t have grapes here—yet—it’s made from cacti!”  Then she waved a hand dismissively.  “That’s right, you don’t even know what those are.  A plant that needs so little water it can grow in the desert!  This is the most-exotic drink I’ve ever tasted, anywhere in the world, blended with chocolate, honey, and chili pepper.  Hmm…” she mused happily.  “Thank you, girls, you’re caring for me so well.  Part of me would love to have you remain as my servants while I eat, and part of me would like you both to kneel under the table where you belong, but the truth is, I want to see your pretty faces and enjoy your pleasant company this evening.  And picnic food is perfect for that.  So please,” she captured a hand from each of them and squeezed it, “For tonight, sit on either side of me here.”

“Thank you, Domina,” Chastity answered, followed by Penny, as they sat. 

“And the food looks wonderful!  There are plenty of European ingredients for you girls to cook with later in the week, but to welcome you to this new world, I asked cook to prepare a feast of Aztec food.  Things most Europeans still haven’t even heard of.  It looks like the meats are… turkey and duck—maybe some iguana?  The vegetables are squash, and the soup and bread are maize—corn—a very tasty grain of the new world.  And all of it flavored with chili peppers.  If I were you girls, I’d make sure to have a glass of water handy before eating anything!”  While the girls scrambled to set out three more glasses and to fill them weith water, Channah picked up the ‘wine’ bottle from the table and poured both girls wine, giggling as she filled their cups nearly to the brim.  “I know both of you—but especially Penny—are shy about spirits and I don’t want you two falling behind.  Because this is going to knock you out!”  Raising her glass, she asked:  “What shall we toast to?”

“To you, of course, Domina!”  Penny blurted immediately.  “Our beloved Mistress!”

“To our Domina!”  Chas echoed.

“Oh, thank you, my loves,” she did her best—which was not very convincing—to blush modestly as she sipped from her glass, but looked honestly pleased and touched.  “Fortunately, in Hell, sovereigns may toast themselves without fear of hubris, so we can drink to me together!  You girls had better drink deep to honor your Domina!”

And they did, Channah giggling as Chas bolted her entire glass in one go—regretting it immediately and entertaining her companions with her gasping, choking, turning red, sweating, and the way her very eyes seemed to bulge out of her head as if pushed from behind by steam from the heat generated in Chas’s throat by the drink.  “Thank you, Chas, for your demonstration of such enthusiasm and commitment!”  Channah complimented her, even as she refilled her glass.  “And don’t you dare tell Penny I ever said this, but—” she faked a whisper “—maybe you should drink the next glass a little more slowly.  Follow my example, and you can never go wrong.”  Looking askance at Penny, who was frowning with concentration and licking her lips, processing what she had tasted and about to set her glass down after a single sip, before realizing both of her companions were watching her expectantly.  “Now Penny dear,” Channah growled.  “If you aren’t choking at all, it can only be because you weren’t bold enough!”  Looking like a trapped fox, Penny drank several swallows in succession, waiting in vain after each successive sip for Channah to stop staring her down, until Penny finally began choking and sputtering, blushing as they teased her for her lack of adventurousness.

“Now, do your best to keep up, Penny, or I’ll put you on your back under my foot with my toes in your mouth and start pouring wine down my leg to watch you sputter like Chas,” she threatened, teasing until she caught Penny’s involuntary pant, dilated pupils, and pink cheeks, and roared at her embarrassed arousal.  “You filthy girl, you would like that, wouldn’t you?  Fortunately, there’s plenty of time for that later!  I want—I demand!—intelligent dinner conversation!  Penny, you’re a smart girl.  Start us off!  And no sex talk!  You must drink every time you ask a question and twice every time Chas or I ask one!”

“Tell us what you know of the Aztecs!” Penny gushed.

“Oh, you’re curious about the Indians of the Americas, are you?  Drink!” she commanded, pausing until Penny did, although she looked more thoughtful than attentive, before beginning, her eyes narrowing watchfully, staying focused on Penny’s:  “Years ago, one of my vassals, a useful but irritatingly sentimental fantasist, brought me a number of unpublished manuscripts from a secret Venetian library.”

“Venice!”  Penny reacted.

“Yes, that’s where we found you, wasn’t it?” she teased, pretending surprise.  “Who would have expected to find such a useful little English girl—” she paused, thought, and shrugged deciding the word fit well enough— “there, of all places?  It was written by a Florentine bureaucrat on the secrets of wielding political power.  Most astute.  The Aztecs could have benefitted from access to it.  I suspect Cortes did.  Did you know, this vast land of millions,” here she gestured vaguely towards her garden, and the great valley beyond, “probably larger than all of Spain itself, was conquered by a few thousand Spanish adventurers—hardly even a proper army—with a motley assortment of modern weapons?  Their weapons helped.”  She shrugged.  “And the pox helped them even more.”

“The pox?” Penny asked, looking shocked.

“Oh, yes.  I’m not surprised the stories coming back to Europe omit that; not nearly as dramatic as warfare and politics.  You know of the Black Death, from the time of Edward III?”  Both her girls shuddered immediately.  “Something very like that is going on here, all around us, right now.”  And even as she saw the fear leap to their eyes, she raised her hands placatingly.  “Don’t worry—you’re not at risk.” 

“How can that–?” Penny began.

“Because you’re—the Europeans—the source of the infection.  Just as the Black Death was brought from Asia to Europe, the Spaniards and Portuguese have brought the pox—and measles, influenza, mumps, typhus, and whooping cough, everything you grew up surrounded by—to the New World.  In some ways, it was—and still largely remains—a paradise, lightly-touched by human hands.  Make no mistake, it has dangers of its own.  Not up here, in this heaven on Earth—the air is fresh, and free of miasmas, which is why Cortes built his capital here—safe as houses, one of the reasons my own palace is here.  But there is danger in the hot, wet jungles and swamps along the coasts.  So much so, the Spaniards have begun importing African slaves and forcing them to work in the lowlands.  Because their own countrymen consider the New World so dangerous, only the most-desperate, most-ambitious, and most-rapacious will come here.”

“But even their plagues were not Cortes’s greatest weapons in conquering the Aztecs.  They were—and are—the American Indians themselves,” she confided, gratified by the girls’ surprised expressions.  “Yes.  This was—and much of it still is—a land of city-states.”

“Like ancient Greece?” Penny asked in surprise.

“Quite!  For almost a hundred years, it has been dominated by the Aztec Triple Alliance—more correctly called the Tenochca Empire—led by the city-states of Tenochtitlan, Tetzcoco, and Tlacopan.  Although they controlled more land than anyone else—by far—they never completely eliminated their rival city-states.  Perhaps they simply couldn’t manage it, but at least partly, it was because they understood war differently from Europeans.  Europeans fight wars to become wealthier, or more powerful, or for vengeance.  The Aztec and their neighbors fought for all those reasons, but another reason besides:  The Aztecs’ adoption of Huītzilōpōchtli, a terrible god of war, the Sun, and sacrifice, as their patron deity.  About a hundred years ago, following a great famine, Huītzilōpōchtli revealed to their priests that the famine was a punishment because the Aztecs had failed him; and that to redeem themselves, he required the Aztecs to appease him with human sacrifices.”

“So it’s true…” Penny murmured.

“From that time, their Empire thrived on the backs of human sacrifices.  Sometimes dozens, sometimes even hundreds, a day are slaughtered.  At the consecration of a new temple, it may even be thousands, killed in their temples, at the tops of their pyramids.  The exact manner of the sacrifice depends on the god to which the sacrifice is made, and the purpose of that sacrifice.”  Breathing faster, her pupils dilating, Channah continued:  “For Huitzilopochtli, for instance, the god of sun and sacrifice, the sacrifice is ritually dressed and decorated, then dragged to the top of the pyramid where their hearts, still beating, will be ripped from their chest and placed in a cuauhxicalli, or “eagle gourd bowl.”  The priest will then toss the heartless body down the stairs on either side of the pyramid like so many scraps discarded from a dinner table.  Sometimes, to accommodate the number of sacrifices required, four sets of priests will work at once, on each side of the pyramids, sacrificing and throwing bodies down the four flights of stairs as quickly as possible.  At the bottom, the bodies land on a platform called an apetlatl, where they might be cremated.  But more often, they are returned to the warriors who took the sacrifice captive in the first place, who can either strengthen himself by eating the sacrifice’s flesh, or chop up the body and share it with others to increase his social standing.  They would save the skulls for display on huge skull-rack displays called tzompantlis.”  She emphasized her point by tossing a half-eaten turkey leg onto the floor as she chewed, licked her lips, and smiled wolfishly, noticing how shocked her girls looked.  “My little sweethearts.  You can’t even imagine the carnage, can you?  The priests and the audience become so excited by it, they stab and cut and bleed themselves to add their own, smaller sacrifices to the gods.”  Her voice sounded reverent, before she shuddered and came back to herself, snorting.  “A few of them fuck.  But the Aztec focus is much more on the literal kind of self-abuse.  As limp as my own little girls.”

Noticing Penny glancing, bothered, at the turkey leg on her well-maintained floor, she snickered:  “That’s right, Penny dear.  It doesn’t belong there, does it?  Why don’t you be a good girl and go fetch it?”  And when Penny looked at her uncertainly, she barked:  “Fetch!”  Laughing as she scrambled out of her chair, she added:  “On your knees.  And bring it to me in your mouth.  No hands, except for crawling.”  She watched, her breath coming faster, as Penny hesitantly dropped to her hands and knees, crawling to the bone and—with difficulty—getting a solid grip on it with her mouth.  Channah pretended not to notice her fastidious girl wiping the floor with a moist napkin before crawling back toward Channah, who was pointing at the ground immediately beside her right foot.  Penny sat back on her haunches, looking up at Channah with an endearing, desperate-to-please expression that made Channah wet.  Staring back at her with blazing eyes, Channah held her eyes for several seconds before taking the bone back and whispering loudly:  “You’re going to drink from under my foot tonight.  But not yet.”  She clapped, breaking the spell and gesturing to Penny’s place.  “Back in your seat for now.”

“In real wars, like Europeans, the Mexica—that is, the Aztecs—gathered every poor and powerless sod they could lay hands on, drafted them into service, and threw them at their enemies after bombarding one another with missiles, while the rich and powerful stood in the rear shouting orders.  But in the flower wars, only the best and brightest, dressed as Eagle Warriors and Jaguar Warriors, led the fighting from the front, using their melee weapons to display their individual prowess, meeting their enemies at prearranged times and places in roughly equal numbers like sports teams, and bringing plenty of peasants along as bait for one another to capture and sacrifice.  Their enemies could either oblige the Aztecs’ thirst for sacrifice by participating in—and on balance, losing—these flower wars, like European jousts only even more dangerous, against the cream of Mesoamerican soldiery, or face full-on attacks by the more-powerful Aztecs to take away their citizens en masse.  After a century of feeding their sons and daughters to the bloodthirsty Aztec priests to buy their survival as a group, you can imagine how much they hated the Aztecs.  And when the Spaniards arrived, with just enough force and novelty to unify the Aztecs’ opponents and tip the balance of power, they fought with a vengeance, providing Cortes with the vast majority of his army.”

The rest of their meal passed in much the same vein, learning about Aztec clothing, customs, politics, tribes, history, architecture, food—Penny’s questions were inexhaustible, and Channah’s knowledge of her human prey, deep and vast.  Penny was spellbound, gazing at her guru with something like growing awe; and even Chas remained interested enough to learn about this world, in such detail.  In England, no more than a few sentences’ worth of information about this new world—which the Spanish considered an important state secret—were even known; and even that was hidden and confused by the much larger volume of often-conflicting rumors rendering all of the stories that reached England, unreliable.

Toward the end of dinner, Chas asked about Aztec sports and games—a subject Penny had left out.  After describing Ullamaliztli—the great ballgame played between teams of warriors, often in front of large crowds—and the individual throwing game of Totoloque, she told them about Patolli:  “It’s a board game, named after the small red beans used as playing pieces. The players roll dice numbered zero to five, or throw five beans with marks on one side, to determine whether and how far their pieces can move on a board with four arms and 52 squares.  Bets aren’t simply made on the game; they’re a fundamental part of the game.  And the stakes can be high, like Aztec punishments.  Each player has to offer six treasures, acceptable to the other player, as bets for the game.”

“What kind of treasures?”  Chas asked, fascinated.

“Anything.  Money, valuable stones or metals, practical things like blankets or clothing items, even services or total slavery to the other.  If you roll a zero, you have to make an offering to Macuilxochitl, the god of games, who the Aztec believe plays in every game with the human players.  The offerings to Macuilxochitl go to the winners of each round.  Each round lasts until a player has moved all six of her pieces onto, around, and back off the board; and the game ends when either player loses everything.”  And with a daring glint in her eye, she hissed for emphasis:  “Everything.”

“That sounds fun!”  Chas clapped her hands.  “I want to play!”

“I’d love that,” Channah responded flirtatiously, winking at Chas and flustering her momentarily.

“Well, I don’t!”  Penny protested, sounding as anxious as she looked.

“Oh, come on, Penny—please?  I haven’t played any party games in forever!”  Chas whined.

Channah rolled her eyes.  “Come now, Chas, you know as well as I do that Penny is a dreadful spoilsport.”

Penny looked wounded.  “I—I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be, it’s just that—I mean—‘losing everything’… that sounds really bad!  And it’s gambling!  St. Augustine says the Devil invented gambling!”

“Please!” Channah huffed.  “That just goes to show how little the church understands devils.  Those pedantic, bureaucratic, bean-counting apparatchiks wouldn’t even gamble with other people’s money.”

Penny looked deflated.  “I’m sorry, Domina, I’m not sure he—or I—used the term properly.  He meant—”

Their Mistress rolled her eyes.  “I knew what he meant, honey.  I’m just busting your balls—metaphorically for the moment—for being such a dull and selfish girl.”

“Please, Penny, would you just do it for me?”  Chas begged, immediately making Penny feel torn.

“Think about it this way, little Miss Literal:  I bought you from your aunt when you were what… nine years old?  Literally speaking, you’re my ‘total slave’ already, and you have been for almost half your life.  I could order you to do anything, or order you to give me everything you have, any time I’d like.  Wouldn’t you rather have some fun with your Domina and sisterwife, and maybe even get a chance to boss me around—”

“Holy cow, I hadn’t even dared to imagine that!” Chas squeaked in surprise, causing Channah to shake her head slightly in amusement before she continued:

“than be little miss gloomy-pants and sit out the game while Chas and I have fun?  What do you think you’re going to do while we’re playing?”

“You’re going to order me to do more chores,” Penny deduced despondently.  “I thought—”

“You know what?  Actually,” Channah raised her finger to stop her.  “I wouldn’t,” she announced, sounding surprised at herself.  “You know, I really don’t think I would.  This is our honeymoon.  The three of us are supposed to be bonding, and that’s what we’re going to do, even if you’d rather go pout by yourself.”

“I obviously don’t want to pout!” Penny protested, so exasperated she made every effort not to laugh.  And then added hastily:  “Domina!  Mistress, couldn’t we do something else?”

“Like what?” Chas asked skeptically.

“Our Liege Lady knows so much—I thought we were having a fascinating conversation!”

“Oh.  My.  Gosh!”  Chas howled, clearly pouting.  “I’ve been listening to you do that for hours!  Can’t we do something I want to do for awhile?”

“There must be something else you’d enjoy—”

“What?”

“Something, I don’t know… safer?”

“We’re married!”  Channah objected.  “You’re my wife!  What are you saying, that you don’t feel safe—” Channah began, then made the mistake of meeting Penny’s narrowed eyes and paused, struggling her very hardest to maintain a neutral expression, before throwing up her hands and dissolving into laughter.  Penny couldn’t help herself from laughing, either, but in her case, when the laughter forced itself to the surface, it dragged her hurt and anger into view with it and she laughed with poor grace.

“Penny!” Channah and Chas simultaneously managed to express their genuine shock at the fierce, raw intensity of the feelings on Penny’s face. 

“It’s all right, I’ll play!”  Penny was hyperventilating and averting her eyes from her companions, uncomfortable with allowing her own feelings out and trying desperately to cut off any discussion of them.

“Penny.”  Channah said, quietly, reaching out and taking her girl’s hand.  And when Penny instinctively tried to pull back her hand, Channah tightened her grip, managing to combine her usual commanding tone with an undertone of pleading:  “Penny, stop!” 

Penny jerked, almost pulling away again before she could still herself.  “I’ll play, Domina,” Penny whispered, still looking away.

“Penny, look at me,” Channah instructed her softly, gently, waiting patiently until Penny could force her face up, revealing how distraught she was, eyes boiling with passion and tears.  “I love you.”

“I know,” Penny blurted, all she could get out.

Softening her expression from concern to compassion and speculation, Channah added:  “And you love me.”

“I do,” Penny managed.  “I—I do!” And then she fell to her knees between Channah’s, sobbing, allowing Channah to guide her forward until she had crawled between Channah’s legs, and then to pull her head tightly into Channah’s lap and her embrace.  “I—I do love you, completely, with every bit of my heart,” Penny confessed.  “But—but—you—you’re such an evil fucking bitch!”  Penny half-screamed, half-wept into Channah’s skirts, her shoulders heaving.  “You treat me so badly.  Why do I love you so much?  I don’t understand.” 

“Because I love you back, sweetie,” she murmured.  “And I love that you can’t help loving me no matter how much you try to hate me.  Oh Lilith and Cain, that’s the very very best!  And because you need someone wicked to love.  Someone like me, who truly hungers for your love and adoration.  Oh, baby, I can’t get enough of it, especially because you can’t help yourself.  I’ve told you your conflicted, tainted love is the sweetest ambrosia there is, to me.  And you need to love an evil fucking bitch, Penny, my darling.  You do!  You need it.  I promise you—no matter what you want to pretend, no content little adoring hausfrau will ever do for you, darling.  Only an evil fucking bitch will ever do for you, pudding.  A wicked goddess like me.”  Cradling Penny’s head in one hand, and rocking Penny back and forth between her knees, Channah used her free hand to pull Chas into their embrace, understanding with perfect clarity how badly and how much her other wife needed to be part of this, feeling her, too, start to cry.  Channah held them both against her.  She was so overcome—the back of her brain only keeping her calm by reminding her, or promising her, this was the Yoke’s doing, not hers, and that the Yoke was necessary to her plans—that she found herself crying and murmuring sweet nothings with them.

“I didn’t break you, Penny.  I just broke you to me.  You were shattered already—don’t you see?  Long before we met.  That sweet, fragile, gentle web of cracks down your soul, so slight it was almost invisible, except as a slight opaqueness.  Not even you could have seen it back then if you’d had anyone to help you look for it.  But you can see it now, can’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Domina!”  Penny howled, like a wounded animal, bawling into her lap, held warm and safe between her legs and under her protective arm and her friend.  “But it doesn’t make any sense—”

“It does.  I promise you, it always does.  But you don’t need to understand it, because I showed it to you,” she whispered.  “You’re so beautiful and broken… both of you, in your own ways… you have to know… I have to show you the poignant beauty of you.  Lover!”

“Do you really love me?”  Penny asked, her fear and disbelief plain in her voice.  “Really?  It’s not just some trick?” 

“Yes, of course!” Chas bawled, answering the question whether it was directed to her or not, falling on top of Penny and hugging her around her waist as Channah, surprised, held her breath to let him finish.  “I’ve loved you as long as I can remember!”

“And I love you!”  Channah promised in turn, meaning it.  “Sometimes—sometimes I think I’m crazy.  Sometimes I think it’s the Yoke.  Well, it has to be the Yoke, to feel this much!  But it’s real.  I know what I am, and I know what I need.  I know I’m a total fucking cunt—”

“No!  No, I’m sor—” Penny began.

“Hush your Domina is speaking!”  Channah reminded her, laughing wryly.  “And believe me, I’m not apologizing, sugar bear.  Far from it.  But I’m not stupid.  I know what I am.  Who else could possibly ever love that?  And normally I don’t need love.  It doesn’t even cross my mind.  Or, I didn’t—or, I don’t know.  But when I first came across humans—men—so wrecked, so totally destroyed, but still surviving, somehow still going and capable of shattered, fragmented, irrevocably damaged love, so submissive and undemanding and accepting it tastes just like worship—Lilith and Cain it filled up a part of me I didn’t even realize was empty—hadn’t even recognized existed!   It’s what a goddess needs, children!  Like water!  I know, it risks becoming a distraction—a weakness—it’s not what I am!  I don’t think men were supposed to be so fragile and yet so resilient that something so demolished could continue to walk and breathe and love a goddess, not really.  They’re meant to love women—an equal relationship with their own kind.  Not in the yielding, sacrificing, unconditional-surrender way a goddess needs and deserves to be loved.  Of course no healthy being, no whole soul, no real man, could love this.  Ravana, even fucking Húanglóng …. I would torture them all to death if I could, and they me.  But do you imagine I don’t know a mirror when I’m looking in it?  Fuuuuuuuuuuckkkk!”  She cried intensely to the ceiling before folding her body down and around them both.  “But I love being me, I love it–this—adoration—whatever it is, and I love you—you both—sooo much for completing me!”

“I love you I love you I love you so much I do love you…” she heard Penny suddenly whispering, pleading, professing, and at the same time expressing amazement, or even apologizing—whether to herself, or to her conscience, or to God, or even to Channah, only heaven above could say for sure.  Penny’s voice was muffled, clasped between Channah’s legs as she was, her face cradled to Channah’s lap; and there were so many things going on at once it took Channah a moment to notice Penny was not just nuzzling her legs and lap, but kissing her down there, as assiduously and repeatedly and with as much abandon as she was professing her love.  They were simple kisses, sweet and romantic kisses, but of course they made Channah want something more.

Literature Section “07-32 Spicy Hot Dangerous Eating in Mesoamerica”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 32 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4406 words—Accompanying Images:  2146-2153, 2154X—Published 2025-08-11—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

2141 07-31 Have I got a treat for you boys… see anything you like?
2142 07-31 Whipping her boys into a frenzy with blood
2143 07-31 Is anybody hungry for Maltese date cakes (imqarets)?
2144 07-31 Channah protecting her sissies from the Jaguars
2145 07-31 Channah chaperoning her wives before the beasts

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah angrily and rigorously punished, tested, and bedded her girls before being appeased and sending the girls to do chores while she worked.  The girls have just finished their chores, bathed, and are ready to let her know that dinner is ready.  NOW:

Chastity and Penance remained naked except for the marks and tack Channah had imposed upon them.  For marks, both girls’ hindquarters were fading from bright red towards a fierce brownish-purple; and Chastity’s torso, upper arms, and upper legs, especially, were heavily scratched, abraded, and sensitized, covered with faint but vivid red marks.  For tack, both girls wore their Chakra Reins—collars, piercings, cages, twisters, and triggers—inside and outside their bodies; wrist cuffs; ankle cuffs; and the hobbling chains that limited their strides significantly and their hands even more.

In the hall outside her command room, the girls fell to their knees and crawled forward to two of the four supplicant positions shown on the floor.  Each supplicant position was marked with five tiles.  Four obrounds were positioned along the sides of an imaginary diamond shape on the floor—two smaller obrounds approximating the width and length of lower arms from elbows to wrists; and two larger obrounds approximating the width and length of lower legs from knees to ankles—with a round stone positioned between the two arm stones along the centerline of the imaginary diamond.  The obrounds were spaced widely enough to force a tall man to stretch uncomfortably to cover them.  Smaller gurls like Chastity and Penny could not possibly reach them, but forced their knees and elbows apart, and their hips and shoulders and foreheads down, as far as they could manage, hoping their efforts would be sufficient to avoid punishment.  They looked like frazzled frogs who had been pinned down and pushed to the ground by giant boots.  But in fact they were exhausted, shaken slavegurls who had each been accused of defiance, badgered, shouted at, corrected, spanked, terrified, and stomped on by their angry Mistress, until she had reduced them to the quivering puddles of submissive flesh they resembled now; and who had been harangued and kicked the first time they reported to her here, to teach them how she wanted them to enter in the future, while their Domina’s more-important visitors laughed at them.

They waited, disregarded supplicants, quietly and unobtrusively, where and as they had been trained, on the cool hard floor, for the attentions of their Domina, while she met with people who were much more important and higher-ranked than them:  her vassals the succubae and incubi, her officers and officials in Hell, her qahramanat, and her mamalik.  Here, in her office, or command room, Domina and her wives were outside the bubble of their marriage, where their Domina had made it clear she expected her inferior morganatic wives to behave appropriately for their station, that of sub-humble jawari.  Needless to say, none of her visitors were jawari; because she would have no truck with the likes of them outside of their assignments and services.  They certainly had no role in administering her Court or her Empire!

Because they entered on hands and knees with their heads bowed subserviently, the tiles on the floor near them were all they could see until she summoned them forward and gave them permission to rise.  But from their earlier entries, they knew that like most of her home, the throne room was open to the outside, made with the same colorful carved stone as the rest of it, facing a formal pool in the central part of her garden, although the furniture and working parts of the room were set well back from the edge of the roof to protect them from wind-driven rains. 

Channah herself sat comfortably on her throne, an ornate gold affair decorated with the same strange figures and motifs, in the same strange style, as the stones of her house and the gold of her bed and her smaller, simpler bedroom throne.  This one, a formal throne of state, sat on a dais rising two feet above the surrounding floor, was flanked with side-tables, was wide as a love seat (allowing her to sit up or lounge to the side as she preferred while conducting her business) and rose in the back to an impressive height—a true throne of command, suitable for the conduct of official business from her mountain retreat.  She was regally clad, in keeping with her throne, in formal robes of state to conduct her business:  a high-necked floor-length scarlet brocade gown embroidered with golden serpents and medlar fruits, a pair of tall shiny black boots, and a tall, viciously spiked crown of gold decorated with rubies.  And she would either be holding, or nestled beside, her onyx scepter, a heavy hexagonal rod topped with a human skull.

All of her visitors appeared before her throne, inside a large and complex magic circle mosaic.  The dominant shapes were an outer circle perhaps four yards in diameter, circumscribing a pentagon, circumscribing an inner circle closer to three yards in diameter, circumscribing a pentagram.  The circles, pentagon, and pentagram were made of a hard, shiny white grout forming ridges rising an inch or two above the tiles, contrasting with the level greenish-gray grout used everywhere else within the house.  And each of the 21 oversized tiles within the larger circle were inscribed in silver.  The centermost stone, the focal point of the pentagram, was the most elaborate by far:  marked with a serpent wrapped around and riddling through a rotten medlar in the shape of a broken heart.  Each of the other tiles was inlaid with an astrological symbol, or a more-arcane symbol of some kind Penny could not identify. 

Everything about the circle set the girls’ hair on end and their spines tingling.  Despite the care and artful grace with which it had been designed, its evil pattern was irreducibly sinister and jarring.  And it generated a palpable energy field the girls could feel when they knelt in their supplicant positions, even though those were several feet outside the circle.  There was something magnetic or electric, something warping, that came off the circle in malevolent waves.

The Queen’s visitors came from nowhere and disappeared to nowhere.  They were incorporeal—ghosts, the girls had thought in terror at first, until Penny, staring down at the floor below her in wide-eyed terror, had recognized Kadidia’s voice during her previous visit and deduced that they were not spirits.  Or at least, not standalone spirits; but perhaps, spirits of her vassals summoned to her in the circle for her to address, before being released by her and allowed to return to themselves.

Finishing with one vassal, a succubus by the conversation, she dismissed them as the girls had heard her do other visitors earlier in the day, with a double clap of her hands and the command:  “atrudha!” (Arabic for “Dismiss her!”).

This time, however, unlike the previous occasions on which they had awaited her pleasure, when she had summoned them forward to order them to perform new chores, this time she continued to ignore them.  Instead, to the girls’ mortification, she clapped her hands once and called:  “min kambiridj-‘arni rujar!” (“from Cambridge—show me Roger!”); “min Sademtsaowah-‘arni ‘iismiri!” (“from Sademtsaowah—show me Esmeray!”); “min tshanghan-‘arni Kai!” (“from Chang’an—show me Kai!”).  Things went from bad to worse—from the girls’ perspective—when they recognized not only Roger’s and Esmeray’s voices, but those of Cutter and Martin as well.  The Queen’s entire conversation with the visitors was conducted in Arabic, which still seemed unusual to Chas and Penny, who still expected their bullies, their qahramanah, and Channah, to speak English by default.

“Your Majesty!” the five voices chorused, presumably while bowing and curtsying deeply. 

“My qahrahamanah.  My mamalik.  You may rise.  Attend to me!  Roger, have you found Frances?”  The girls, whose thoughts so far had primarily been hoping none of their English bullies would notice or recognize them, knew Frances well.  She was another English jawari, only 2 or 3 years older than Chas; and they were startled to hear that she was missing.  But they dared not raise their heads or react in any other way.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Roger answered.  “Mistress Rivqah scried her position and we deduced she was trying to reach her mother’s house.  We intercepted her there yesterday, before she could make contact with any of her family.”

“Where is she now?”

Roger, Cutter, and Martin guffawed nastily.  “You asked us to make an example of her, Your Majesty, so we dropped her in the servants’ cesspit.”

“I commend your enthusiasm, boys, but can we be sure she hasn’t drowned?  We do actually need her.”

“We tested the depth with a rod and there’s only three or four feet of muck down there.  We tied her to a rope just long enough to let her drop in chest-high.”  He snickered.  “Although we may have given her the impression, ah, she would be left to dehydrate and drown down there.” Cutter and Martin snorted derisively.

“As much as I like the idea of leaving her there a few more days, I think her time—and Eleanor’s—would be better spent training with Esmeray before the ritual.  And further punishment is always available in, you know, Hell,” Channah snickered.  “No risk of her avoiding what she deserves there.  So tomorrow, pull her out, make Eleanor help her clean off.  And I mean, clean, clean, clean, first in the creek and then when she can be allowed in the servants’ area, in a barrel of warm soapy water.  I won’t have her stinking up my bath at Fensmere, let alone my domain, with the filth of Earth!”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the boys agreed.

“I want you waiting with her and with Eleanor in the Satanikoklus at noon sharp.  I want both of them hogtied for transport.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“Kai, inform the duty Timorite at Chang’an that I want her to pick the jawari up from the Satanikoklus and deliver them through the Honeycomb to Esmeray at Sademtsaowah.  Esmeray, inform the duty Timorite at Sademtsaowah to expect the girls tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Esmeray responded.  “Will—if I may ask—Will Penny and Chas be returned to me before the next ritual so that we can try full rehearsals?  Or should I prepare for deeper training with just Eleanor and Frances?”

Something about her manner or gestures, or those of Channah, must have pointed out the girls kneeling on the floor within the visitors’ field of view, because Roger gasped and then burst out laughing.  “Wait—no.  That’s impossible.  Those cannot be our Penny and Chas!”

“They are indeed,” Channah laughed, as the girls’ bullies made sounds of incredulity and astonishment.  “Girls, get up on your knees and grab your new boobies for your boys!”

Scarlet and practically dying inside, but in no way willing to risk angering Channah, and mindful of her command to be enthusiastic little sluts for her, both girls rose up, sitting back on their haunches with their knees still spread.  Chastity, excited even as she was nervous, artfully emphasized her breasts, pushing them up while she grabbed them at the base.  Penny, self-consciously, put her hands modestly over her breasts.

“Princess!  I didn’t tell you to cover your tits modestly!”  Channah laughed even harder.  “I said ‘grab’!  As in, show off!  Put your hands under your breasts, cup them and squeeze them to make them stretch and swell and stick out further!  Go on, no place for reticence when you’re a whore!”

The ashamed girl did as she commanded, to a chorus of rude whoops and catcalls from their bullies and Kai.  Channah noticed with satisfaction that Esmeray was able to watch neutrally, only the way she shifted uncomfortably betraying her ambivalence about what she was witnessing.

“Now turn around, away from the boys, spread your knees, put your shoulders down on the ground, and jiggle those big round beautiful bottoms and hot pussies for your mamalik!”

Penny and Chas, whimpering and moaning with embarrassment and fear (and for Chas, just a little bit of defiant excitement) obeyed, setting off another round of even more enthusiastic responses.

“You’ve been training them hard, Your Majesty,” Cutter gushed.  “Their asses are so beautiful and bruised….”

“I have, and they are,” Channah agreed flirtatiously.

“And they’re obedient as hell,” Roger growled.  “Damn, I mean, Your Majesty, I don’t suppose your offer to fuck them is still open, now that they’re real girls?”

Penny couldn’t help herself:  she raised her head to see her Domina, who was looking sly and thoughtful.  Desperately she shook her head and whispered under her breath pleading with her Domina—more like, willing her Domina without the courage to ask her—to say no. 

Channah shook her finger slowly and sexily in a “no” signal to Penny and smiled evilly, looking Penny straight in the eye and seeing her swallow nervously, before she looked back up at her vistors and asked:  “Are you sure?  I thought you were too much of a ‘man’ to fuck my little girls.”

“Well—that’s when they were fake girls, Your Majesty.  I apologize—I meant no disrespect.  To you.  No disrespect to you.  Sissy boys in dresses.  But now… heaven above, they’re completely female.  In every respect!”

“Their minds are unchanged.  Their souls…”

Roger made a dismissive noise.  “I’m not planning to take their souls, Your Majesty.  Those are irrelevant.  I want to possess their new bodies.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Channah agreed snarkily, as her bullies laughed.  “What are you working on right now?”

“We’re learning, Your Majesty, as you commanded, as much as we can about how the manor operates, so we can help you manage it.  But we don’t actually have any duty assignments right now.”

“Continue learning until you leave, and don’t breathe a word of any of my plans.  When we return to Fensmere next week, Roger, I will make you my Castellan.  Cutter will be in charge of the mansion and its staff, and Martin the head of the field staff.  Don’t let those titles go to your heads, boys—I’m not picking you because any of you have a reputation for effective management or work habits or dutifulness even good sense.”  She laughed shortly and deliberately insultingly.  “Don’t interfere in the actual running of anything—leave that to the Butler, the Housemaid, and the other senior staff.  You’re to be in charge of…”  She rolled the last word around in her mouth, savoring it:  “Discipline.”

“Oh, yes,” the three bullies laughed, sounding as if they were hugging and clapping one another on the shoulders in celebration. 

“You can use your positions to get revenge on everyone who mistreated you in the past, but only in the context of your duties.  Believe me—you’ll find more pleasure in their fear, awaiting your vindictiveness—than tearing up my household immediately.  And my household must run well.  A scared and miserable staff is fine—delightful, really—but the laundry must be cleaned properly, the house must be kept dusted and polished, the food must remain delicious and interesting, the servers polite—in short, the Sun itself must continue to shine out of my ass over that house, so that my life is as convenient and pleasant as possible, and my guests, from the lowliest deliveryman to the King himself, continue to be awed and amazed by the splendor of my mansion.  Do you understand?!”

“Yes, Domina,” they agreed, sounding more muted.

“The reason I want you in charge is for operational security, not the actual operation of the household itself.  I’m giving you the three highest positions in the house—after my Governess, Sindonie, who will remain in charge of the noble children, as you can imagine—so you can enforce discipline and security on the household, or at least, all of the commoners within it.  Without ever telling anyone there are new rules, or explaining them out loud, you will build and enforce a new regime at Fensmere.  A culture of obedience to me, and silence about my business.  I’m already aware there are the vaguest rumors circulating out in Cambridgeshire, and perhaps even further afield, about… changes people have noticed to the household.  Even questions about me.  Well, we’re going to stop that process when you return, so that my Sipahi ranging the countryside can continue to stoke the rumors of demons abroad in the countryside.  Your duties for capturing and disciplining escapees will expand from my slaves to include the entire staff and population of the manor and the village.  Once someone joins the manor or the village, they will remain there until they are buried, unless they receive my leave to depart.  Only trusted staff will be allowed off the premises at all; and then they will be sent in groups.  Staff and their families will not share any of the business of the manor, or the village, with visitors or tradesmen, beyond the minimum necessary to accomplish their business.  And, most importantly, when the King arrives, our staff will have no doubt about where their loyalties need to lie.  I will instruct my tailor in Sademtsaowah to help you dress appropriately for your work.”

Then, changing tone:  “Esmeray, as I’m sure you’ve gathered, training Eleanor—and especially Frances—will be different than training these sweet, compliant girls.”

“Yes, Domina.  Although I’m surprised… as more-experienced jawari, I thought they would be fully-broken.”

“Oh,” Channah waved her hand dismissively.  “In many ways, they are.  But they were always trained differently than my two girls.  Or, more precisely, my two girls were always trained differently than any of the other jawari.  In this generation, anyway.  That’s why I wanted you to meet and work and play with them first, so you would see them for who they are, not lump them in with the other rabble.”  She laughed sharply, and not entirely nicely.  “Boys—I need you to pay attention to me, not my little sluts’ bottoms.  Girls—” she bent forward, addressing them, “—Keep your knees on the floor but rest your arms on my dais, straight out in front of you like you’re holding on for dear life, and worship my boots with your tongues and lips!”

“Yes, Domina,” they hurried to obey, seeming to make Channah gasp with excitement at the sight of their distressed, worried, sorrowful faces… and to compel her to ram the toes, and occasionally the heels, of her boots harder into their vulnerable mouths while she continued her conversation with her visitors.

“Why don’t you boys come through to Sademtsaowah with your prisoners tomorrow, to provide security for Eleanor and Frances while Esmeray begins their training.  They’ll be kept in the kennels at night; but whenever they’re not locked in the kennels, you’re to monitor and contain them so they can’t get away from Eleanor.  Don’t help Eleanor train them unless she asks—it’s her job to be their qahramanah, not yours—but do be of assistance to her however she asks in handling or training her charges.  Kai, please find quarters for them near Esmeray.  And then…” she shrugged, visibly delighted that she was able to tease at least three boys and two girls with diametrically-opposed desires, with a single taunt.  She shrugged.  “Depending on how well-behaved my girls have been, and how helpful you’ve been…. we’ll see about introducing my three bully-boys more… intimately to my new girls.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” the three Englishmen laughed celebratorily, even as Penny and Chas, too stunned to even take it all in, buried their heads in their hands, making little sobbing-whining noises too primitive and instinctual to have a name.  “Oh!  And, ah…. One of you let Big George know I want him to come along with you.  My Castellan has a couple of projects requiring his expertise.  Is there anything else?” she asked, giving them a moment before continuing.  “Then carry on with your assignments.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Majesty!” they responded.

Channah clapped twice:  “aitrudhum!” (“Dismiss them!”) and the light in the room changed slightly.  Whether it was darker, or the quality of the light had changed when the sterile bluish ghosts had disappeared, leaving the warmer, yellower, indirect Sunlight from the garden alone to illuminate the room, neither girl could tell for certain from her perspective hanging at Channahs’s feet.  Leaning forward, knowing she had their full attention, Channah purred.  “You girls look so cute and sweet and submissive, sucking my boot tips and heels and looking up at me so sadly and pleadingly.  Ha!” she clapped and shook herself with delight.  “I think you both know you’re going to have to be very good—practically perfect—if you want to avoid the attentions of Roger and his bully-boys entirely, don’t you?  So better suck up your very hardest!  And at this moment, I mean that very literally!  Open your little pieholes wider, go on, wider, streeeettttcch those lips out and push your faces as far forward as you can on the tips of my boots.  Oh, come on… you especially, Penny, with your well-known big mouth!  I want to see you swallow half of that boot.  I want to hear you—yes!  Woo-hoo!”  She clapped with glee as Penny—looking like a fish with its mouth stretched by hooks—started to make gargling and gagging sounds as the toe of Channah’s boot started tickling the back of her throat.  “PUSH, BITCH, PUSH!”  Screaming as loudly as she could at Penny while leaning as close down towards her foot as she could, she fairly seethed with joy as Penny’s face turned red and her throat and mouth began involuntarily contracting in an instinctive attempt to clear her throat.

Resting her chin on her fists, Channah enjoyed watching the girls suffering and debasing themselves to please her for what seemed forever, before her smile grew even wider and slyer.  “This is the best honeymoon ever!” she barked.  “I’d ask you why you came to disturb your Domina’s important business, but I don’t want this moment—this pathetic display—to end!”  She giggled nastily.  Setting aside her crown and her scepter in a leisurely fashion, she continued:  “If you’re done with your chores, nod your heads with my boots in your mouths.  Ha ha!  Excellent!  If you’ve bathed yourselves, nod your heads.  Good!  And if you’ve served dinner in the dining room?  Veeeerrry good, darlings.  Oh!  I have a fun game!  Without removing my boots from your mouths—or biting my toes!—I want each girl to remove her boot.  You can use your hands to pull them off, but your mouth must stay wrapped around that boot, and that boot needs to remain deep inside your mouth in gag-a-bitch position, until you’ve removed it entirely, and I accept it from you.  Oh ho ho, that’s cute… look how hard you gurls are working on those boots.  You two look really ree-diculous!” she guffawed.  “Like a couple of Maltese puppies down there, wearing only your dog-collars.”  When they removed her boots nearly simultaneously, she laughed again:  “A tie!  Good doggies!  Such committed, devoted little puppies…” she purred, rubbing her knuckles under their chins before taking her boots and setting them aside. “Penny, your first chore tomorrow is to polish my boots.  I want them gleaming!” 

“Yes, Domina,” she answered, hanging her head in shame at how Channah was making fun of them.

“No time for your pouting,” she chided.  “Worship my feet.  While they’re still warm and layered with the smell of leather.  I’ve had a long, stressful day while you two have been cleaning without a care in the world.  Go on, use your mouths and your hands to relax me.”  She observed them, sighing and relaxing back in her throne as they kissed her heels, sucked her toes, rubbed the balls of her feet, and caressed her arches.  “Oh… that feels good.  You girls are naturals.  I may need to keep you two with me to de-stress me at the end of each day… mm….”

When she felt her breathing deepen and slow, she ordered them:  “That’s enough for now, sweeties.  Now put your arms back on the dais, stretched out toward me, armpits on the edge of the dais, that’s good.  And use your toes to brace your legs and knees right where they are.  I’m going to put pressure on your faces, and I don’t want you to fold or slide.”  Ignoring their confused expressions, she waited for them to move their arms and feet into the positions she had commanded.  Then she stepped on their faces with the soles of her feet, relaxing a moment, feeling their breath tickling the soft skin in her arches, while she untied her robe and slipped it from her shoulders.  Then, bracing her feet on their faces and her shoulders on the back of her throne, she raised her hips and slid her robe out from under her, settling back down and draping it gently in its accustomed resting place over the back of her throne.  Finally  she put her feet back down on the dais and slid her hips forward off her throne, dropping into a squat immediately above and in front of them, her beautiful bare legs emerging from the slits cut up to her hips on both sides of the simple tube dress.

“Stand up!  Go on!” And when they had, she rested her arms around their necks, with her hands on their shoulders, using them to steady her as she jumped off the dais to the floor.  Devastating Penny with a flirtatious look, she flicked her head back towards her dais and commanded:  “Get my heels for me, bitch.”  Taking advantage of her most-vulnerable moment, when she was stretched forward as far as she could reach to touch and pull on Channah’s mules, she slapped her ass.  And as she took the high-heeled sandals from her and set them on the ground, using their shoulders for support again, she slid into the sandals, kissing each girl quickly before leading them towards the dining room.

Literature Section “07-31 The Naked Debutantes”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 31 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4316 words—Accompanying Images:  2141-2145—Published 2025-08-03—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

A
B
C
D
2139A-B-C-D 07-30 Penny scrubbing Channah’s floors
A
B
C
D
2140A-B-C-D 07-30 Chas washing Channah’s laundry

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah angrily and rigorously punished and tested her girls, and Penance eventually assuaged her suspicions.  Both girls have been ridden hard, but neither has been put away yet.  Penance lies bound and helpless, naked, in the garden.  Chastity lies bound and helpless, wearing a painful hair shirt and locked in a metal prison cabinet.  NOW:

“I do feel good about this,” Channah mused, enjoying the morning sun fall on her as the sun finally rose high enough in the sky to top the mountains themselves.  Squiggling against Penny, she purred:  “You feel good.  Oh, I’d be happy to do this all day.  But because you girls have made such a mess of things, we’re—meaning you’re—going to have to take some time to clean up while I work a bit.  So we’d better go have breakfast.  That is, if you’re still hungry after all that loser juice and cock filth?”

“Yes, Domina, please let me have breakfast, Domina!” 

She shrugged, sitting up and swinging her legs off the stone.  “I want my girls to have all the energy they need, for all the chores and… other ‘duties’ I need them to perform.  So, I promise, you’ll get what you need.”  Looking down at Penny, she pouted.  “I really want to kiss you right now, but what have you done?  And after I cleaned your mouth out once already?  After you and Chastity finish your chores, I’ll let both of you messy girls bathe again.”

Releasing Penny’s hands and rebinding them before her, and leaving her legs hobbled, simply for the added pleasure of making her work while restrained, she directed Penny to carry the cushions back to the house before the afternoon rains, insulting and shaming her to keep her hustling and hurrying as best she could to keep up with her carefree master.  At the house, she showed Penny where the cushions belonged, and where she could find the cleaning supplies, so she could get working on Channah’s bedroom floor and the stairways and halls they had tracked through from the site of Penny’s big mess until they exited the house.

Leaving Penny to her cleaning, Channah returned to the storage room to open Chastity’s prison-box, finding her sweaty, smelly blonde girl shivering despite the warmth generated in her little space by her anxious, restless, tormented body.  Feeling the doors open and the cool air reach her, Chastity turned her blind head toward the opening and began making what Channah gleefully interpreted as extreme begging and pleading sounds.  The parts of her face that were visible behind her blindfold and gag stretched and twisted with her desperation and hope, which Channah rewarded by standing back and watching until Chastity gave up in despair, slumping back to the demoralized, unhappy position she had been in before the doors opened.  Bored with the end of the spectacle, Channah yanked hard on Chastity’s head and shoulder, rolling her out of the cabinet to lie face-down, butt-up, immediately outside it. 

Kicking her legs to stop her from straightening them, Channah draped a cloth over Chastity’s bottom, and by sitting daintily upon it with her legs straddling Chastity, grinding the sharp camel hairs all the more forcefully and abrasively everywhere her weight fell, biting her lip with pleasure to see and feel how Chastity’s hips involuntarily bucked and twitched to reduce their impact.  After leaning forward to remove her earplugs, Channah placed another cloth on Chastity’s shoulders and set her feet on it to avoid touching the sweaty, filthy hair shirt, some of which was Chastity’s, and some of which had accrued to it when it was used on previous victims, but had been revived and reactivated by Chastity’s heat and moisture.  Channah could lean forward whenever she wanted to put more pressure and weight on Chastity’s upper body and neck, then lean back whenever she wanted to put more pressure on Chastity’s knees and lower back, knowing that every shift and motion caused the camel hairs poking and scraping most of her body to shift and bite like miniature snakes. 

“Welcome back, bitch,” she snapped coldly.  “You’re still on my shit-list, but Penny has pleaded on your behalf, swearing you mean well and begging me to give you another chance to prove you truly want only to obey and serve me.  Is she right?”

She smirked with satisfaction as Chastity made more muffled noises, just managing to nod her head despite the force with which it was being pressed down into the floor beneath her by her position and the weight on her shoulders. 

“I can’t understand you, ninny,” she managed not to betray her amusement.  “Nod more clearly for yes, shake your head more clearly for no!”

After she had made Chastity nod with her face smashed against the ground for a couple of minutes (and after she could control her voice again) she continued, sounding doubtful:  “All right.  On Penny’s word—and yours—I’ll give you one more chance to show me how you feel about me.  But if you don’t demonstrate how eager you are to serve and please me, I’ll know you’re both lazy liars and send you both back to some very, very heavy punishment work in hell.  Do you understand me?”  And, as she nodded, as frantically and emphatically as she could, Channah—leaning forward, of course, to make it as hard as possible for her—added:  “Do you want to play here and have sex with me?”  (more nodding). “Or do you want to go break rocks and mine for gold in hell?  We don’t actually have any,” she snickered, clarifying, as Chastity shook her head frantically, “But you’ll be punished if you don’t dig, and punished for failing to meet your quotas, anyway!” 

And after letting her worry about that for a bit, Channah asked:  “Are you ready to do your very best to please me and be loyal, if I let you go?” 

This time, she let Chastity hear her satisfied, contemptuous cackle, before using her heels to deliver a not-really-very-friendly blow to the girl’s shoulder blades and standing to untie her arms, relishing the way Chastity’s body sagged and twisted in relief and avoidance of as much harm from the camel hair as possible, as Channah untied the belts securing the hairshirt and removed it from her now-badly-scratched and -abraded body.  After removing her blindfold and gag, she asked her:  “What do you say, is that better?”

“Yes, Domina!”  Chastity wailed, turning to face Channah, dropping to her knees, and pressing her lips to Channah’s feet in a single motion.  “Thank you, Domina!  Thank you for letting me have a second chance!  I do love you, Domina, and I am yours!  Thank you for your mercy and kindness!  I promise I won’t disappoint you, Domina!”

She let it go on a bit, grinning down at her girl’s head bobbing and moving over her feet as she lay kisses on every inch of them that she could reach and dribbling out obsequious compliments and entreaties.  Then, making herself scowl so she could sound harsh, she commanded her slave to prove it by retracing their steps to the pool area and the gazebo, picking up everything they (well, she) had dropped and discarded, and either throwing it over the cliff if it were trash, washing it in the bathing pool if it were washable, and bringing it back to the house to dry or put it away properly. 

Pausing in the hallway as she dressed, pulling on her bra, dress, and mules, she called Penny to the top of the stairs and informed both girls she would be communicating with her vassals in the command suite and whenever a girl finished her assigned chores, she should report for more by respectfully crawling into the command room where Channah could see them, and waiting silently on hands and knees until Channah could take a minute to speak with them.  “And remember:  I expect perfection!  You girls have no idea how much it turns me on to know you’re obediently doing my cleaning, laundry, and cooking while I work, or rest, or amuse myself.  If you do a good and diligent job to my exacting standards, believe me…” she moaned “you will see just how much it turns me on and makes me love you.  Conversely, I’ll leave you to imagine how it makes me feel, and how I’m likely to treat you, if you disappoint me by slacking off or doing a poor job.”

In fact, she periodically slipped silently from her command room to observe each girl, a bit disconcerted to find that she actually cared whether they were busily at work or lollygagging, whether they did their jobs well or with mediocrity, whether they had done a good job to please their Domina or a bad one to earn punishment. 

Some part of her was actually tense with her genuine hope they would not disappoint her, because she actually wanted them to confirm a confidence she realized she actually wanted to have in them.  That was a terribly unsettling and atypical concern; and she tried, unsuccessfully, to remind herself that the hopes and dreams and loyalty of mortals were more meaningless than dust on an entryway floor.  But despite her self-talk, she could still feel how much she wanted them to validate and reassure her with their sincerity.  Unsure what else—beside acting on it—she could do with such feelings, she shoved them to the back of her mind and contacted her Castellan. By the evening time, the girls had finished their cleaning and washing, and done it well.  They had emptied and rinsed the chamber pots from a small ledge beside the top of the waterfall over the cliff, set the table, prepared and placed their dinner of warm bread, cold cuts, vegetables, and fruit on serving plates on the dining table, opened two bottles of spiked wine to breathe, done everything else she asked of them, bathed themselves with soap, and sweetened their mouths with mints.

Literature Section “07-30[X] Chore Time for Working Girls”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 30 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 1621 words—Accompanying Images:  2139A-2140D—Published 2025-07-30—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

2135 07-29 Boys do anything I ask.  Then I eat them for breakfast
2136A 07-29 A perfect height and attitude
2136B 07-30 After Channah finishes with her
2136C 07-29 When Penny can finally process what Channah made her do
2136—The 3 Stages of Breaking Penny
2137 07-29 Name something you would never, ever POSSIBLY agree to do.  I DARE you
2138A 07-29 I *love* that you accepted that, bitch
2138B 07-29 You’re still not even sure what you did, are you?
2138—Schadenfreude

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

Explicit version containing oralsex, fellatio, asstomouth, pica, ATM, filth, cleanup, cumeating, orgasm, watersports, bullying, punishment, overpowering, and consensualnonconsent themes at 07-29X Penny Learns Her Lesson at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah tested Penny by pushing her limits for pain and, satisfied and elated to feel vindicated, has just topped the hell out of her.  NOW:

Even as Channah’s ecstasy slowly ebbed, her laughter and her emotional high were such she kept shaking and shuddering.  She giddily turned her head perpendicular to Penny’s and covering her mouth with her own again, laughing into Penny’s mouth even as Penny was crying into hers, their seal so perfect the only air that escaped from either female’s mouth made a raspberry sound that just made Channah laugh harder.

“Oh, Penny…” she managed when she finally disengaged, tickled immediately by the pitiful noise somewhere between actual sobbing, gasping for breath, and simple pouting coming out of Penny’s listless mouth; and the way she had her eyes closed and her neck relaxed, her head lolling backward.  Combined with the helplessness of her bound arms and legs, abandoning any effort to control the only parts of her body she could control, represented a total and unconditional surrender that turned Channah on so much she had a secondary spasm right then, closer to an instinctual movement than a deliberate one.  “OH!  Penny honey I own your pretty little body and your hungry little soul, don’t I?”

“Body and soul, Domina,” Penny mourned, completely passive and exhausted.  “You’ve taken everything…” she whimpered, feeling spent and consumed and used hard.

“I’m sorry, but not quite, sugarbear,” she kind-of-commiserated with the girl.

“There’s nothing left, I swear it, Domina.  You have conquered me completely.”

“Fuck are you trying to get me started again?!  You’re a shameless and limitless hussy, aren’t you?”  Lying back on the black pillow, stretching her arms and groaning with satisfaction, she then propped herself up on her elbows and began rubbing her feet over Penny’s soaked-wet belly.  “You forgot about clean-up,” she reminded Penny in a singsong voice.  “You first!”  She shoved her toes into Penny’s passive mouth.  “No, no, lazybones—you start licking and sucking or I’ll—” she crammed that foot down Penny’s throat as hard as she could while she used the toes of her other foot to seize and brutally pinch Penny, eliciting an immediate and satisfying shriek, and an energetic and submissive working of her lips and tongue all over Channah’s feet.  “Ohhhhh…. such a diligent little sugar bear!  I’ll bet you just love your treat, don’t you?”

“Yes, Domina,” she repeated, obediently and brokenly.  “I do love my treat.”

“Which part do you like, sweetie?”

“I like both parts, Domina.  Very much.  Thank you for feeding me.”  Her shame and tears were intoxicating and mesmerizing to Channah.

“Gooood gurl!” she complimented Penny, her voice vibrating with her strong emotion.  “That’s the way, sweetie.  You just keep licking up that nasty mixture and when you’re done, I have a special reward for you!” she giggled.

“Yes, Domina,” Penny sounded utterly demoralized.

“And because you like it so much, I’m going to make a special effort to serve you your favorite loser cocktail whenever I allow you your release.  What do you say to that, puddin’?”

“Thank you for serving me my favorite loser cocktail, Domina.”

“I’m not convinced, you sound a bit lackluster and insincere.  Are you lying to me?”

“No, Domina!” Penny cried out, activated by her fear response, the intensity of her response making her sound extra pathetic.  “I’m so grateful Domina, for introducing me to loser juice—I mean, loser cocktail—”

“Actually, I think ‘loser juice’ is even better, because it makes it clear how immature you are!  Try again, and really put your heart into it!”

“Yes, Domina.  I’m so so so so grateful for your training me on loser juice and letting me drink it more often!”

“What do you want me to do when you’re given a treat in the future, sweetie?”

“I—I—” and then she figured it out.  “I want you to feed me my loser juice, Domina.  Please!”

“Well… if you want to.  Most people—men—would never do that.  But you’re obviously not a man, are you?”

“No, Domina, I’m not a man.”

“Are you a little boy?”

“No, Domina, I’m not a little boy.”

“Then what kind of loser-juice drinker are you?” she asked, pretending to be confused.

“A little girl.  A little sissy-gurl!” she amended, realizing it would be what Channah expected before she even had to correct her.

“Ohhh… she remembers!  You’re such a vacuous little sissy-gurl, too!  And don’t forget, you’re a chastised little bimbo.  You’re pledged to remaining pure and locked up in chastity for me forever, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“So that you can always remain my sweet, pure little virgin slut slave, too?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“And what do you like most?”

“I—I love you, Domina…” she answered pitifully.

“No, dummy!  What part of my body turns you on the very most?  What part of me do you crave and need that you’re going to beg for in the future?”

“Your feet, Domina—” she began, her confidence faltering as she saw her Domina shake her head in disappointment, her lips pressing together in a tight line.  “I’m sorry!” she bawled, tearing up again.  “I’m sorry, Domina, for being so stupid!  Please tell me what I like the most?”

“No, sissy, even you aren’t that stupid.  Think about it, ninny.  What part of my body do you respond to, helplessly, getting so excited you can’t even contain yourself, even though you’re afraid of—”

And she saw the understanding—and the horror—of it flood into her girl’s face as she practically crumpled in on herself.  She yowled, devastated most of all to find she couldn’t deny it because the answer was demonstrably, physically clear.

“Finally!” Channah rolled her eyes in frustration.  “Finally, my little moron figures out what has been obvious to everyone else from the first.”

“Okay, so put it all together for me, you pathetic pansy-weed.  And don’t forget any part of it, or so help me, I’ll make you regret it!”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny answered miserably, taking a breath and concentrating hard to get it right because she couldn’t take any more punishment just now.  “I’m—I’m a stupid little chastised, loser-juice-drinking virgin sissy-gurl… uh… slut-slave, Domina!”

“Lillith and Cane, after all that work, I’ll expect you to remember that!  I don’t want to have to remind you of it—not any little part of it—again.  And I am going to test you, at the most-unexpected, most-embarrassing possible times—” she loved to see the flinch in her girl’s eyes— “so if I were you, I’d practice it.  A lot.  Especially at first.  Like, every time you get an extra minute, almost like a mantra or a Hail Mary, all right, slut?”

“Yes, Domina, she howled hopelessly.

 “I’ll expect to see you practicing it without having to remind you, do you understand, pet?”

“Yes, Domina, I’ll—”

“Then begin!” she snapped her fingers impatiently.  “Right now!  Show me!”

“Yes, Domina, you won’t have to punish me, I promise!  I’m—I’m a stupid little chastised, loser-juice-drinking virgin sissy-gurl slut-slave, Domina!”

“Again!”

“I’m a stupid little chastised, loser-juice-drinking virgin sissy-gurl slut-slave, Domina!  I’m your stupid little chastised, loser-juice-drinking virgin sissy-gurl slut-slave, Domina!” And then as she broke down crying she repeated:  “I’m your stupid little chastised, loser-juice-drinking virgin sissy-gurl slut-slave, Domina!”

“Fine, that’s enough, I don’t want to be reminded what a pitiful loser you are—I want you to remember.  When any of your superiors—succubae or other operatives—ask you who or what you are, I expect you to remember that, and to answer any questions they may naturally have about what such kind of a person such a fucked-up double-damaged little jariya is.  Got it?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“Good girl.  I know you’ve been doing your best and being sincere?”

“Of course, Domina!  I want to—”

“Then I suppose you’ve earned your reward.” And she shifted her hips suggestively, drawing Penny’s eyes to it.  Penny swallowed.  “Well?” she demanded sharply.

“Yes, Domina, I understand,” she said sadly.  And then, noticing Channah’s face, she added:  “Thank you, Domina.”

“Mmm… that was a little weak.  If you don’t want your dessert, just tell me, and we’ll use the extra time for a little extra discipline.  What do you think, 1 or 2 more paddle strikes?”

“No Domina, no, please Domina!”  Penny begged, genuinely afraid.  “Please not that, Domina!  I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear!  Thank you so much for giving me dessert time, Domina!”

“Are you sure you want the dessert we’ve prepared?”

“Of course, Domina!”  Penny agreed emphatically.  “Yes, please, of course, please let me have my dessert, Domina!  Please, I want it very much!”

She shrugged.  “Well, if that’s really what you want, cuck.  Convince me you’re eager for it if you want to have dessert next time.”  And stepping forward so her feet were beside Penny’s buttocks on the stone surface, and her shins were pressed against the backs of Penny’s thighs, and her thighs were pressed against Penny’s calves, she tested Penny’s open and willing mouth, shutting her up and cutting off her long string of complimentary pathetic loser-boy blither.  “That’s much better,” Channah opined.  “Cucks choking instead of talking!  Go on, cow, enjoy your dessert.  Demean yourself for me, girl!  Really humble yourself and show me you’re sincere!  Awww… what a sweet precious girl.  That’s a good girl.”

When she was finally satisfied, she turned around and slid down Penny’s breasts and belly to sit on the stone bench, right between Penny’s legs, forcing them out to the widest angle she could.  Resting her butt cheeks on Penny’s chastity and her lower back on Penny’s belly and her upper back on Penny’s breasts, she let her head rest on Penny’s shoulder and hooked her hands between Penny’s arms, sighing and relaxing.  “Now that was so nice, Penny.  Wasn’t it, baby?  But turn your head away from me before answering.”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny agreed, sounding like her mouth was full of soap.

Literature Section “07-29[X] Penny Learns Her Lesson”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 29 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 1642 words::Explicit 1821 words—Accompanying Images:  2135, 2136A-C, 2137, 2138A-B—Published 2025-07-29—©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.

2131 07-28 Slavebride contemplating life in her new household
2132 07-28 I will protect you from all predators… except me
2133 07-28 I must know every detail of how you suffer for me, babydoll… tell me!
2134 07-28 It breaks my heart, but you MUST suffer hard for me

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

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, prostatestimulation, bullying, punishment, overpowering, consensualnonconsent, orgasm, chastity, goldenshowers, and watersports themes at 07-28X Penetrating Intimacy at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah angrily and rigorously tested Penny by pushing her limits.  Now, happily reassured, they are making up by making love.  NOW:

Channah and Penance were pressed close together, so intimate spiritually, sexually, and romantically they were almost fused into a single love monster.  Their lips were locked in a seemingly never-ending sweet mint kiss they were both drowning in.  Their breasts were pressed against and pushing on one another like bubbles sliding and squishing in a hot tub.  Channah’s belly-button was jerking and smashing Penny’s little damsel in distress.  The front of Channah’s thighs were crushed against the lowest part of Penny’s bottom, and her hands were brutally gripping and kneading Penny’s always-sensitive, but now sore red buttocks as her main source of leverage making Penny grunt and cry out around Channah’s big tongue.  Well… it probably accounted for up to half of Penny’s passionate cries. Along with the way Channah was making Penny open up with an overwhelming combination of pleasant and painful sensations that were shorting out her brain and making it spark and smoke and sputter, almost as incoherently as the drivel of noises she was trying to make around Channah’s big tongue.

“Awww… poor sweetie….”  Channah murmured around Penny’s mouth.  As the undisputed and emphatic dominant in their relationship, she could speak—or allow her toy to speak—whenever she wanted.  After all, she was literally, as well as metaphorically, on top; it was her weight pinning her smaller lover down; her hands and feet were her own, whereas Penny’s were tightly chained above her head, her ankles only a few inches from her wrists, her legs framing her face and breasts; and even Channah’s head was free to move and twist, unlike Penny’s, which was trapped between Channah’s hungry teeth and the hard stone lounge chair where Channah was taking—well, whatever she wanted—from Penny, with Penny’s eager compliance.  “Are mommy’s hands—” she curled her fingers to drive her fingernails into Penny’s haunches, instantly making Penny’s noises rise at least an octave and the helpless movement of Penny’s hands and feet and body accelerate.  “Huwting wittle baby?” she asked with faux sympathy.

“Yes, Domina,” Penny cried when Channah eased the pressure on her lips enough to allow her to do so.

“Are you asking me to stop my rough play with you, baby?” she asked.  They continued speaking between intense kisses, as Channah decided and permitted.

“No!  No Master!  Please, Domina, I want you to do whatever you want with me!  Use me—” She crushed her mouth down on Penny’s again, choking off her pitiful surrender.

“But it is hurting, and you—being a soft little baby sissy wimp, don’t like to be hurt, do you?”

“No, Domina, except that—that I want to please you even more!”

“Oh please, stop it!” she chortled.  “Do you or do you not enjoy being hurt?”

“I—I’m sensitive—”

“Oh, sensitive!” She whooped with laughter.  “Weak, you mean!  But that’s okay,” she continued slyly, the sudden change in mood a screaming red flag Penny had seen coming even before she raised it.  “Poor baby, Mommy’s going to give your little bot-bot a break.”  Drawing her hands back and slapping as hard as she could in the limited space under Penny’s buttocks (which, in Penny’s tender condition, was more than enough to elicit a howl muffled under Channah’s giggle), she ran her hands up Penny’s side, tickling and teasing her.  Channah loved how she responded:  Because she was so responsive, it made her helpless-slut-hyper-responsive to soft touches, just as it made her easily reducible to blubbering tears by hard blows that tougher men could take stoically).

Then Channah shifted her hands to Penny’s legs, trailing them lightly up towards her delicate ankles, laughing to see Penny brace herself and wriggle a bit more and squeak around Channah’s tongue, knowing instantly where her hands were going but unable to do anything to stop it.  Without breaking her aggressive kiss or interrupting her rhythm, Channah laid her arms back on Penny’s legs and her hands on those ever-sensitive soles, tickling them again.

“Fallen one, the way you move when I tickle you—you’re shaking and jiggling me like an earthquake!”  And realizing she was going to finish before she had expected, she applied the twister to Penny’s lowest little organs without letting up or showing any mercy to her feet, knowing Penny was starting to soften from the overwhelming combination of sensations.  The poor girl was thrashing and flailing and sweating and laughing-not-laughing, wailing around Channah’s tongue, her eyes tightly shut with the tension in her face, mirroring the tension in her body as the relentless tickling and kissing and gagging and stuffing and the radiating heat from her bottom bouncing and scraping on the stone lounge all combined to overcome her control and rout any last semblance of presence of mind she might have had. 

As Channah broke their kiss to roar and bellow her conqueror’s cry of victory, the removal of her tongue and lips allowed Penny’s passion to find its voice.  Which at this point, had been reduced to a raspy, sobbing, crying, grunting, pleading, wailing gibberish of semi-coherent begging and protesting.  Penny’s weak and pathetic harmony was almost an octave higher than Channah’s gruff melody.  Even as Channah finished, Penny did too.  Penny’s face was etched with the intensity of the pleasure and discomfort she was experiencing simultaneously, as her sounds edged towards a hopeless, exhausted sobbing.

Sniffing to confirm her immediate impression, Channah cruelly taunted Penny:  “Oh, sweetie!  You’re having your first bladder-and-prostate experience, aren’t you?  Oh-ho-ho, how does it feel baby darling?”

“It’s awful,” Penny yowled miserably.  “I don’t even understand what’s happening in my body or what I’m feeling….” She sobbed and moaned in confession, while Channah was laughing so hard she let her arms and legs go to rubber and collapsed onto Penny.

Literature Section “07-28[X] Penetrating Intimacy”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 28 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 963 words::Explicit 1079 words—Accompanying Images:  2131-2134—Published 2025-07-28—©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.


2127 07-27 They ALL knew better, bitch.  Now crawl to me
2128 07-27 If I grew a hundred gardens like this they couldn’t express how much I love my Domina
2129 07-27 It was too late for you the second we met.  Just shut up and crawl
2130 07-27 I waited and wished for you all my life

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

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, prostatestimulation, bullying, punishment, overpowering, consensualnonconsent, and chastity themes at 07-27X The Predatory-Missionary Position at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah has been testing Penny by pushing her limits, and been pleased with her compliance and responsiveness.  NOW:

“Here, put it in your mouth,” Channah said, offering him the sweet.  “Don’t swallow it, just suck it, it’s sweet and minty so I can kiss you again.”

Penny accepted it, concentrating on it and asking:  “What is it, Domina?”

“Persian rock candy.  Basically, sugar, infused with… well, anything I suppose,” she shrugged.  “I always keep a few wintergreen ones around.”  Then she dabbed a clean corner of the rag in the canteen mouth and used it to scrub Penny’s face, leaving it clean, and marginally-minty.  “There’s my sweet baby back,” she whispered, putting her right arm around Penny’s neck and pulling her head forward for a slow, lingering, gentle kiss, her right hip pressing against Penny and the connection between them seeming to crackle with electricity where her side rested against Penny.

The kiss was sweet, romantic, and divine; and it seemed to have a life of its own, drawing them each in more deeply the longer they were connected.  And Channah’s mouth was tender with her abused girl, using her lips and only the tip of her long tongue for an occasional flicker of contact with Penny’s mouth and tongue.  They both seemed to realize at the same moment that they were both humming, opening their eyes simultaneously to look at one another from an inch apart, and giggle like schoolgirls, before slipping into another comfortable, silent intimacy.

“Uh-oh,” Channah twittered, shifting her body slightly to the right so Penny could feel it against the bottom of her thigh.  Then she whispered:  “I seem to have a not-so-slight problem, again.  And you know what that means, don’t you, honey?” 

“Yes, Mistress,” she confessed, hanging her head.  “And I have a problem, too, Domina,” she whispered, pinkening, looking down at Channah’s breasts, too shy to meet Channah’s eyes.

“Awwwwwww…” Channah’s face turned mock-sad as she pulled back and tipped her head to one side.  “Isn’t it sweet we can share our problems with one another?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny agreed compliantly.

“Yes, indeed,” she agreed, reaching into her bag for her jar and applying its contents.  Don’t be nervous, darling.  Oh, who am I kidding?  I love that you’re nervous, Puddin’.  As someone as soft as you, ought to be.  Such a sweet, vulnerable, defenseless girl…” she leaned back in for another protracted kiss with her helpless but responsive bride.  “Are you uncomfortable, sweetie?  All… bunched up like that, with your ankles and wrists bound over your head?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny confessed mournfully.

“Aren’t you going to whine and beg and plead for me to let you loose?”

“You warned us to be grateful and show you how much we melt for you, Domina.  And it’s true!  I swear, I am grateful—I’ll continue working on focusing on that.”  Then she frowned.  “Why, do—do you want me to, Domina?”

“Goodness no,” she laughed as if the notion were absurd.  “I want to know you’re obeying the orders I’ve already given you, of course!” she scoffed.  Then she gasped, standing up beside the lounge, lifting up on Penny’s bottom with relish and drinking down her resulting discomfort, before sliding the covered pillow up under Penny’s backside, and ooching that delectable backside back up against the lounge, so one corner of the pillow touched Penny’s lower spine.  “But, actually… if you don’t mind…” she growled, kneeling on the widest part of the covered pillow, the tops of her thighs pressing sensually up on the outsides of Penny’s pink hips, dropping her hands to Penny’s red bottom, she looked up innocently at Penny and moued:  “I do have a favorite fantasy.  And nobody’s ever given it to me.  Will you, missy?”

“Yes—” Penny swallowed, reflecting her mix of emotions perfectly:  Fear, of what outrageous act or submission she would demand, an excitement she couldn’t quite convince herself to get rid of, and her most attractive quality, her deep-seated desire to please others—especially Channah.  “Yes, Mistress, if I can, I would love to make you happy, Domina,” she answered.  A good answer—especially because it was an honest one.  “What—what did you have in mind, Domina?” she asked timidly.

Laughing, she pre-loosened her girl with her fingers, really enjoying the way it made Penny flinch and grunt while she obediently and helplessly remained trapped by Channah’s gaze… and bonds… and greater physical strength… and force of will.  Their thoughts touched and flirted with each other’s in a profound intimacy, and Channah whispered:  “When I begin,.…” she shuffled forward on her knees, pressing herself against Penny, loving how her girl whimpered and clenched and melted all at once at the first touch, “… I want you to beg me to go gentle with you.”

“Yes Domina,” she breathed, starting to pant.  “Will you, Domina?”

“Hell no,” she assured her, starting to push forward.


“Please!” Penny yelped, most genuinely and satisfactorily, “Please be gentle with me, Mistress!”

“I’ll do whatever I like with you, slut,” she answered roughly, sneering at Penny, neither of them able to break the gaze that locked them together.  Penny’s breathing grew shallower and she started to make soft little grunting noises, each grunt faster, and higher in pitch, than the last, arching her back involuntarily and biting her lip as Channah moved, faster and faster. 

“Yes, of course, Mistress!”  Penny consented and wailed, flinching with all the pains she was feeling. 

And, unable to contain herself, her hands roughly grasping Penny’s scarlet buttocks; her shoulders forcing back Penny’s knees, she hissed:  “Shut the fuck up and kiss me, bitch,” as she crushed her lips against her wife, mouths wide open, the succubus’s tongue aggressive and penetrating, while all the helpless, uncomfortable, bound, ordinary girl could possibly do was accommodate and obey and get vulnerably turned on about how badly her masterful lover was treating her.

Literature Section “07-27[X] The Predatory-Missionary Position”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 27 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 968 words::Explicit 1036 words—Accompanying Images:  2127-2130—Published 2025-07-27—©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.

2123 07-26 Oh, sweetie, you’re a mess
2124 07-26 BAD girl, letting it spill everywhere!
2125 07-26 What a good girl, taking your medicine

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

Explicit version containing oralsex, fellatio, deepthroat, swallowing, orgasm, bullying, overpowering, and consensualnonconsent themes at 07-26X Teaching Her How to Swallow at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah has been angrily and rigorously testing Penny by pushing her limits; now she has chained her down with her wrists and ankles locked above her head.  NOW:

“You’re in quite a pickle, aren’t you, little Princess?”  Channah teased her.

“I am!  Yes, Mistress!”  She protested.  “Please, Domi—”

“Let me see…” she cut her girl off.  “I seem to remember you’re… ticklish!” she roared, pouncing on the soft, vulnerable soles of Penny’s feet, tickling them while Penny jumped and jerked and squealed and hyperventilated and kicked.  “Was that a rhetorical question, do you think, Penny?” she snarked.

“No Domina, I—I am ticklish, Domina!  I’m ticklish!”

And she continued tickling and tormenting her for another minute or two, reveling in the girl’s extreme reaction.  “Oh, Pleaser,” she mumbled, “I don’t know why, but the results of the tickle test are as conclusive as those of the batting test:  I have a best-in-class—by which I mean, wimpiest, most-pathetic, weakest, and most-sensitive—sissy ever on my hands!  Darling, you are going to be helpless before me!”

“I know!  I already am!  I always have been, Domina!” she cried, an ineffectual protest directed at no one.  “Of COURSE I am!  But I don’t know why I was made this way!”

Moving around to the side of the lounge and watching Penny’s face as she calmed down and recovered her breath, she felt another stab of intense pleasure between her legs when Penny finally opened her shy eyes and blushed prettily for her Domina.  “I love you so much, Domina,” she pledged, her eyes so big and honest Channah just melted.

“Oh, Princess, I love you!  Don’t you see it, silly?  You were made for me:  body and soul, my perfect plaything!”  She felt the familiar changes in her lower body while an even-more-embarrassed Penny looked down at it and whispered:

“Oh, my!  Made for just you…. Only you?” she mused, sounding kind of distracted and bemused.  “Gawd, maybe I was…”  and then she whispered, very quietly, looking up at Channah in wonder with the biggest most-innocent eyes Channah could remember seeing as Channah climbed onto the stone lounge over her:  “Is it really possible, Domina?” 

“Oh yes, slut.  Oh yes it is!”  And standing with her feet just against the outsides of Penny’s hips, she leaned forward, resting her knees on the elevated section of the lounge and wordlessly presenting herself to Penny.  Licking her lips and taking in a deep breath, Penny opened wide.  Resting her elbows on Penny’s lower arms and sighing with pleasure, she used the stability of her elbows and knees to remain just at the line between what her girl could and could not handle.   “Oh, that’s it, you dirty bitch!  Oh… someday soon, I’m going to teach you to love all of me!”  The noises coming out of her slave’s mouth went up in pitch and almost sounded like her vocal cords were involved in trying to articulate actual words.  Channah nodded and laughed:  “I mean it, you will learn!  And honey… as long as you wear my collar, we have –literally—all the time in the world to train you.  We’ll get there.  Oh!  I’m looking forward to that!  I’ll ask my metalsmith if she can’t tweak one of your final chakra guards to help with that….” 

Rotating and bouncing her hips, gently and carefully, as she panted and bit her lip, she sank into a hazy state of bliss.  Suddenly, she laughed again—more softly, with delight instead of power—and giggled:  “I just realized:  with my elbows on your forearms, if I cross my arms…” and Penny, squealing in protest, felt what Channah was about to say, even as she said it:  “I can tickle your feet!”  And, hooting, she proceeded to do just that, snorting and bucking on top of Penny, crying out deliriously:  “The way you’re moving!  Oh shit!  Oh shit!  I’m goooonnnnnaaaah!”

Her poor girl was wiggling, struggling to breathe, helpless with Channah driving her to distraction even before the final complication Channah imposed on her.   “Oh fuck!  Oh fuck!  Oh fuh-huh-huh-huh-huck!” Channah snarled, losing herself completely.

Shaking her head to clear it and using one hand to brush her hair back out of her eyes, Channah finally collected herself enough to look down at the noisy, thrashing mess below her and gasped:  “Oh, shit!” as the girl gasped for breath.  “Oh, you’re glad I love you, darling… I kind of lost myself there, didn’t I, sweetheart?  Oh, there, there, baby…. Breathe, honeygirl, It’s okay…” she calmed and soothed her babygirl, feeling everything at the same time:  deep love, genuine concern for her well-being, and a secret pride at how thoroughly she had topped the little bitch.  “That was so satisfying,” she admitted, continuing dreamily:  “It’s going to be even better after I’ve finished training you….”  Slipping off the lounge, she grabbed her bag, then returned to the lounge, sitting down right in front of Penny’s hips, using a clean rag to settle her while Channah made soothing, loving noises, her eyes dancing with impish pleasure at her girl’s teary eyes and exhausted face.  And then, managing to sound surprised, as if she’d just come across this helpless, befuddled girl tied up in a forest, the effect only slightly spoiled by her sniggering:  “Sweetie, you’re a complete mess!”  Whining sympathetically, she leaned in, almost like she was going to kiss her, and then shook her head as if scandalized.  “Oh, darling!  Here, drink, drink, drink it all down,” she sang, holding her canteen to Penny’s lips and pouring water in her mouth.  Then she unwrapped a small, translucent ellipsoid, carefully tipping the canteen until a small squirt of water cascaded down over the ellipsoid, and began applying it to Penny’s face, nodding encouragingly when Penny instinctively pulled her head back from the smell.  “It’s mint.  Don’t you like it?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny spoke softly, subdued.  Subdued… just the idea of it made Channah tingle.

Literature Section “07-26[X] Teaching Her How to Swallow”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 26 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 967 words::Explicit 1232 words—Accompanying Images:  2123-2125, 2123X, 2126X—Published 2025-07-26—©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.