Tag: BDSM

1898 06-113 I trust you
1899 06-113 You DO know how this ends, don’t you, my little fuckpig?
1900 06-113 Wait–you would never…?!
1901 06-113 The Shredding of Hell
1902 06-113 Evaporation of a thousand fallen angels

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, prostatestimulation, masturbation, consensualnonconsent, overpowering, and puberty themes at 06-113X Apocalyptogasm at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  As Channah and Penny grow close, and Kadidia toys with Chastity, Channah has humiliatingly forced the girls to confess that they both know Chastity loves her friend Penny in a way Penny does not reciprocate.  Now Channah cajoles Penny into trying to enjoy giving herself to Chastity, knowing she will cross a moral line and a personal boundary in service to Channah.  NOW:

“And for your first boy, Penny, Chas is my gift to you.

“And you love Chas, too, don’t you?”

“Yes!  Yes!”  Penny nodded frantically, back on solid ground.  “I do!’

Of course, Channah insisted on twisting the knife and cutting to the nerve, viciously leering:  “But not the way she loves you, do you, sweetie?”

And when she hesitated, Chas caterwauled:  “Just say it, Penny!”  She, too, was bawling, tears streaming down her face.  “She’s not going to let you—just say it and get it over with!  I know.  Do you think I don’t know?  That’s—why I tried to lie—”

Penny made a croaking sound:  “I’m sorry, Chas.  Not in that way.  But for real, for real, I love you as my friend!  As a sister!”

Chas bawled even harder, sobbing:  “I’m SORRY…. I—I didn’t plan to!  Ever!  But that hurts even more than I could have imagined!”

And now Penny was apologizing back to Chas.  Channah met Kadidia’s syes, the same fire shooting between them that all the succubae—and judging by the noise, all the devils and demons below, too—were feeling as they gobbled up the scene of pathos in front of them.

“But Penny, now you have a way to show Chas how much you love her.  You can let her become a girl.  You became a girl because you are one, a very traditional girl born for the bottom, with everybody.  All you had to do was admit it, and see it for yourself.  But Chas is both, a boy and a girl.  The only way he can become a girl is if you can accept him as a girl in spirit, while he’s physically a boy in every way.  You want to do that for Chas, don’t you, honey?”

Penny, crying even as Channah’s hand moved faster and faster on her penis, nodded. 

“In fact… you’ve wanted it, too… even though you know it’s wrong.  Even though you know boys are not for you.  Because you miss how close you girls can be to one another emotionally.  Even though you know it’s a sin and would have sent you straight to hell… if you weren’t there already.”

The coven members spontaneously applauded and whistled at this, like some caricature of a Greek chorus, or as if cheering for Hell’s team at a home football game.

“YES!”  roared Judah, raising his fists.

“Go, Channah!” squealed Rivqah and Miryam, jumping up and down. 

“Another degenerate bites the dust,” Kadidia directed her narration, and her cruel grin, with particularity at Chastity, who shrank slightly.

Channah, merriment in her eyes, continued:  “You feel an urge to play with boys who like you, boys like Chastity was, even though you know it’s wrong and you know it’s not for you.  Don’t you?  JUST so they like you?  JUST so you can please them, DON’T you?  TELL ME THE TRUTH!”

“I don’t know, Domina!”  Penny howled, and Channah knew she spoke absolutely the truth from the pain in her voice.  “I don’t know…” she wept quietly.  “If you say so—I just don’t—I know you know me better than I do….  I do like to please people…” and then in a broken whisper:  “So it must be true….”

Channah felt a burst of heat that made her gasp, conscious of Kadidia’s sharp look, but determined to ignore it and act as if she was operating with all the passion of a waterwheel.  “Then trust me, and tell me what you know I know!”

“It’s true, Domina.  It’s true!  I do love Chas, and I—I have longed to—to be close—”

“Really?”  Chas asked in a dazed, amazed little squeaky voice, which Channah completely drowned out with her own roar: 

“To WHAT?!”

“To SIN with her—” Penny shook her head, as snotty and tearstained as Chas, both of them blubbering like, well, little girls, stripped and humbled to their cores by Channah in the heteraslakos.

“So what I want you to do, baby, is only for you to do exactly what you’ve secretly been wanting all along.  First with Chas, then with others.  Give yourself to Chas, as freely and honestly as you have given yourself to me.  Will you do that baby?  For me?  For you?!  I want you to not just allow Chas to take you, but to enjoy it, even though it won’t be sexual for you.  Let Chas and the rest of us help you realize your potential to enjoy yourself with pure, Platonic love for her, for the sake of servicing her, for the sake of serving me, with someone you love, innocently and truly.  Can you do that for me?”

Penny nodded again through her tears. 

“And… is a little part of you excited about it?  A little part that’s missed Chas all this time?”

Penny nodded, crying.

“Then say it!”

“I—I want—”

“SAY IT!”

“I want you, Chastity!  Please, I miss being close to you, and I want you to be able to be a girl like me.  And… I want to be a girl for you, the girl you want,” Penny blubbered and wailed.

“Penny!”  Chastity managed poignantly, before her noises devolved into unintelligible squalling. 

“And now, Penance, I want you to prove to Chastity, and the Coven, and your qahramanah, and everyone else, and most of all yourself, how the idea excites you, how much you care, and how hard you’ll try, and what a passionate little girl you are, so that none of them—and most of all, not you—will ever believe again you’re the safe, straitlaced little prude you pretend!  That’s why I’m touching you so sweetly, so quickly—to give you another big-boy chance to show us what a big man you are by having a real, masculine, macho release instead of a squealy little-girl moment.  So show us!  Show us what a man you can be!  Last chance!  Right—right—NOWWWWWW!!!!!”  Channah shrieked, a long, drawn out, cry fading into softness as she murmured:  “Oh you’re such a good passive girl, Penny, I looove you so much baby.”

With a squawking, squalling, mewling noise more pitiful and worse than any noise she’d ever wanted to make in her whole life, the thing she had feared the most, happened again.

“Oh, look at that precious face!”  Channah managed over her laughter and through her own humming high.  “How was that sweetie?  That didn’t look like a man, and I bet it didn’t feel like a man either, did it?  And here I gave you every chance!  I was right, wasn’t I?  Wasn’t I, sissy?!”

“NOOOOOO!!!!!  YES, DOMINA!”   Penny agonized.  “It was HORRIBLE again!”  and as she sobbed and wiggled and shuddered with the misery of her plight, the succubae and even the red devils below dissolved in harder laughter.

“UUNNGGHH!!!”  Channah’s voice gurgled and bubbled at the very bottom of her range, a sound that even managed to penetrate Penny’s overloaded consciousness it was so much deeper than any female’s voice ever should be, as Channah shocked herself by peaking again.  Halfway through it, her voice broke, being hoarse for a second before she screamed at her highest pitch, shocked and overcome, grabbing Penny and holding her as tightly as she possibly could, while Channah just froze, fearing her own heart, such as it was, might stop.

Her eyes widened even further as they refocused, drawn by the extreme and tortured noises coming from below, watching in disbelief past Penny as all the devils started moving—too fast for the verb—they started vibrating, back and forth, and at a frantic pace, like guitar strings, turning into blurs below.  And then some of them—many of them—simply exploded, like rotten tomatoes hurled and smashing and smearing against the desert and their fellows’ bodies, making the desert sand even redder, leaving only gristle and guts and bits of bone like a grisly soup spattered on and all around the survivors.  One rogue bit was even propelled all the way up to hit Channah in the face, an inch from her mouth, which she licked and sucked up instantly, almost before Penny had seen it, definitely before Penny could process its existence or nature.

THAT, Channah knew now, is what had been wrong earlier:  the wetness, the slickness—it was a fucking desert!

At the end, she had pulled Penny so hard, that she left bruises on Penny’s thighs.  Not that Penny could possibly have noticed it in the maelstrom of her own fiery, punishing exertions; or thought about much else than her own feelings, drowning her like a tidal wave; feelings Channah could still feel shredding her psyche.

When she was done, Channah practically collapsed, noticing the surviving devils staggering and struggling to keep their balance below.  She only half-remembered the members of her                                            coven gently dragging and pulling her back, away from the ledge, and out of Kadidia’s way.

Kadidia, who’d just—barely—had the presence of mind when the devils had… lost their shit, or whatever the hell had happened down there!, to yank Chastity away from the edge and sling her on her back to the mattress near Esmeray before she could see anything the succubae couldn’t explain away. 

Judah operated the heavy locking mechanism that connected the length of metal Penny was hanging from, rigidly and reliably to the adjacent section; and then pulled the section of railing clockwise back, therefore swinging Penny back over the relative safety of the platform, before unlocking her anchor points and dropping her back down onto solid ground as Penny grunted with the impact and then softly sighed— —only to screech in panic in the very next moment as her oily, greased body, released from the anchor points, began sliding again down the very same trail of sticky-slippery stone that had launched her into space before.  Only if she went over this time, it would be without the benefit of any railing to hold her, or succubae to bind her to it!

Literature Section “06-113[X] Apocalyptogasm”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 113 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1674 words::Explicit 1898 words—Accompanying Images:  1898-1902—Published 2025-05-12—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

1893 06-112 PLEASE make me a girl, Goddess Kadidia! the awestruck boy begged
1894 06-112 KNEEL when you talk to me, the Dark Goddess commanded
1895 06-112 They ALL want to play with me?! *giggle*
1896 06-112 Really, Master, you can’t expect me to….
1897 06-112 Ooooh….  Push me HARD, Master!

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, prostatestimulation, masturbation, consensualnonconsent, overpowering, and puberty themes at 06-112X True, Desperate Confessions at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah leads Penny in an intense and passionate dance while Kadidia is holding Chastity from behind working her over.  NOW:

“I asked you a question, Pleaser!  How about Chas?” she grinned evilly, her eyes boring into Penny’s, as inescapable as sunlight in a desert

“Domina?”

“Don’t play dumb, Penny.  You make a very!  Bad!  Bimbo!”  She emphasized with three outsized thrusts.  “The worst part about this position is I can’t correct you the way I want to!”  She complained, but then swatted where she could reach, a tight mean grin on her face as Penny tried to dodge her.  “Now, do you want to finish your business or do you want me to leave you hanging out there while Chas and I go spend our first day of honeymoon by ourselves?”

“Please don’t stop, Domina!”

“Try again.”

“I want to finish my business, Domina!  Please, please let me—make me—Domina!”  Penny whined.

“Then you better be honest!”  The cruel smile widening, her eyes drilled into Penny’s as she demanded:  “Do.  You.  Think.  Chastity.  Will.  Have.  To.  Be. Trained. To. Like. Boys?”

“No, Domina,” Penny sobbed, admitting what she knew.  “Chastity likes boys and girls.”

“How much?”

“Chastity—likes boys a lot.”

“Any in particular?” She smirked, driving the nail home.

“Please, no,” Chastity begged, and Penny, wrestling with it, conflicted between loyalty to Chas, and simultaneous fear and the desire to please Channah, gaped like a fish without any sound coming from her mouth, her eyes trapped by the gravity of Channah’s even as she pulled her head back and turned it down as if she were trying to look away.

Channah began punishing Penny again, eliciting a useless whine from Penny.

Channah shrugged, her lips wrenching back in a savage smile-that-was-no-smile that particularly terrified Penny.  Deciding if she was going to quail like a baby bitch, she should act like one, Channah compressed her again, making Penny leak.  But it was enough, enough to embarrass Penny, demonstrate Channah’s power, and illustrate her point:  “You’re not as brave as you like to pretend, Penny darling.  I hope you’re comfortable at least.  Do you think Chas will even feel guilty while the two of us are hugging and kissing and cuddling one another in my safe warm bed, and you’re still hanging out here like a rotting netful of old medlars?” she asked, beginning to pull out of Penny.  “Will she even think of—”

“TELL HER PENNY!”  Chastity screamed.  “I’M SORRY FOR BEING WEAK!  PLEASE TELL HER!  I LO—”

Kadidia clamped her huge hand over Chastity’s mouth and most of her face, silencing her utterly, as the two succubae laughed.

“One last Chance, girlie,” Channah offered.  “Any particular girls Chastity’s got the hots for?  Maybe, had a crush on since… oh I don’t know… you first met?”

After sputtering for half a second, Penny broke down in the face of overwhelming force and an even greater obviousness that everyone already knew what she was going to say anyway, whether they were eager to hear it or loath to say it, sobbing:  “Yes, Domina.”

“Oh, my, this is sooooo juicy!  Tell us, Penny—do you know who Chas’s secret crush is?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny croaked.

“Well?  Who is it?”

“It’s me, Domina.  It’s me,” Penny wept.

“Does she LOOOVEEE you, Penny?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“Then come on and say it!  You know better than that!” And she encouraged her again.

“Yes, Domina!  Chastity has a crush on me—Loves me!”  Penny clarified.  He sobbed:  “Chastity loves me.”

“You know that?  For certain?”  Channah asked coyly, returning to using her hand for showing Penny how much she loved her.

“Yes Domina,” she admitted, scarlet for herself and hurting for Chastity’s humiliation, but also desperately, pathetically grateful in her need to please Channah, feeling both worse and better at the same time by her confusing mix of feelings.

“You’ve known that for a loooong time, ever since you two were still boys together, haven’t you?”

“Yes, Domina.  I’ve known.  I knew it before I even realized what it meant.”

“All those times before your priest gave that speech that sounded like it was God talking through the priest directly to you boys and Penny almost died inside… just like she’s feeling now…”. Channah hammered another nail, more like a spike, right through both girls, relishing how Penny’s eyes filled with horror and confusion over how she knew these things.  The same expression that was on Chas’s face when Kadidia dropped her hand and set it back to what it had been doing, tightening her other hand around Chastity’s wrists just to remind her how helpless and easily-handled she was. 

Channah wrapped her sweaty left arm around Chas’s neck at the same time and gave her a wet, messy, sloppy deep tongue kiss, then used her arm to pull the humiliated girl closer to Penny, stretching her between Channah’s arm hooked around her neck and Kadidia’s unyielding hand yanking back on her wrists, as Channah pulled her physically into the dance even more intimately, and whispered to both of them: 

“I know fucking EVERYTHING there is to know about you boys.”  She snorted, as if it were obvious.  “About all boys.  When are you going to get it?  We were made to get inside you… so to speak!” she snickered, physically emphasizing the point.  “Body and soul!  We’re dream-walkers and mind-readers from hell, my innocent little girls!  I am the Queen of Lust!  I personally harvest a dozen souls every day before I even wake up!  Whatever you hope most desperately I don’t know yet—oh!  There, I know it!  That was easy!  You two are pathetic!” she and all the Succubae were howling with laughter by this point.  “Sugar bears, you’re darling little sweeties and I adore you both more than I can say, but nature has made us unequal.  You were made to serve me in all ways, and I was made to top you and all the other little boys in the world!”

Literature Section “06-112[X] True, Desperate Confessions”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 112 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 983 words::Explicit 1104 words—Accompanying Images:  1893-1897—Published 2025-06-11—©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.

1888 06-111 Bespelling her best girl
1889 06-111 Penny besotted by Channah
1890 06-111 Desperately holding on to mother
1891 06-111 Penny at Channah’s feet 4ever
1892 06-111 Chas’s Manipura Chain  (as it appears prior to implantation)

Explicit version containing masturbation, sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, and prostatestimulation themes at 06-111[X] Girls and Boys and Succubae, Oh My! at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah leads Penny in an intense and passionate dance while Kadidia is holding Chastity from behind working her over.  NOW:

“I want to be a girl too,” Chastity whined, not planning it, just blurting it out, overcome by the sight of Penny.  “Can—can you make me a girl, Your Grace?”  Kadidia just laughed, while Channah answered:

“You’ve always wanted to be a girl, haven’t you, Chastity?”

She hesitated half a second, she didn’t even know why, then burst out:  “Yes!  Yes, Domina!”

“Your whole life?”

“My whole life,” she nodded, making a little noise in response to the sensations Kadidia’s hand was producing, and without her realizing it, the seductive magic Kadidia was pouring into her.  “As long as I can remember.”

“Look down at your belly—ungh!—Chas.”

She did, and gasped, seeing and then double-checking by touching the gold-and-emerald medlar fruit in her navel.

“I’ll save the long version for later.” 

“Oh—yes, Domina,” Chastity agreed, a whiny, plaintive noise like a bitch because she was disoriented, starting to get turned on, and never very good at resisting succubae or their operatives, even on the few occasions she’d wanted to.  “Yes…”

“That is your ticket to becoming who you want to be.  If you really want to be a girl, it will make you a girl.”

“I do, Domina, I do!”

“I believe you, dear.  But what kind of girl do you want to be?”

“What—what kind?” She asked in confusion, Kadidia’s big, strong, yet gentle hand beginning to get a response similar to the one Channah was receiving from Penny.

“The kind keeping their little boy part?  Or the kind with all the girl-parts and none of the parts you were born with?”

“Oh!  I want my clitty, Domina!  I love my clitty!”  The coven roared with laughter, and Chas pinkened, suddenly realizing how much of an audience they had on the platform, let alone… whatever that was below them.  In a more muted tone she pleaded:  “They are girl-parts!  They’re my girl-parts!”

“And when you play, do you always like to play the girl’s role?  Or do you like—”

“I like—I love!—all the parts, Domina!” Still embarrassed, but not surprised, that her confession was greeted with amusement all around.

“Penny,” Channah spoke to her rider.  “You’re not like Chastity, are you sweetie?”

“She’s a girl!”  Chas whined excitedly.

Channah laughed, shaking her head in mock-exasperation.  “That’s not what I meant, Chas honey.  And I didn’t ask you.”

“Oh,” she said, chastened.

“Penny only gets to play the girl-parts.  I’m not giving her a choice.  You know that, right muffin?  You’re never, ever, ever going to get to play the boy in bed?”

And she laughed, a low growl of pleasure deep in her throat, when Penny sobbed and confessed:  ‘I know, Domina!” letting her head fall and for a second.

“I’d ask Penny if she wants to play the boy part or not, but…” she turned to Chas and pecked her on the cheek, surprising her with the display of affection.  Stage-whispering:  “That might be kind of cruel, to ask a girl doomed to never actually get to try, hunh?  What do you think?”

And she cackled with delight, like the other succubae, at Penny’s unplanned, pitiful moue of recognition and acknowledgment of the cruel truth. 

“Oh, don’t whine.  You should be thanking me for making the decision for you.  I think we both know—or at least, you already suspect and fear what I already know, that you couldn’t take a man’s role with either a girl or a boy!”  She laughed harshly.  “Could you, pumpkin?  Hell, you can barely handle yourself, can you honey?  Admit it, baby.  It’s okay, sweetie.  I know you’re a wimp and I still love you.  Admit it!”

“I know!  I know you’re right, Domina!”  Penny cried out in anguish, delighting their audience.

“Why, of course!  It’s perfectly obvious,” Channah scoffed.  “You haven’t got the man, or even the little boy, in you for that.”  She patted Penny gently as she wept and grunted, playing teasingly with her best little approximation of manhood.  “Pudding and jelly don’t work the same way proper boy-parts do, do they, Puddin’?”

“No, Domina.”

“This is the only penetration you’re ever going to enjoy, isn’t it?”  And she emphasized the point with several particularly-hard bumps as she moved her hand faster over Penny’s wannabe-boy parts, enjoying watch her whine, cry, and nod, hardly able to help herself.  “I let Penny be this way, even though—well, okay, maybe because?” she snorted, sticking out her tongue, daring Penny to protest, “she’s never going to get to use it for the purpose a man’s body was intended for, or feel the way a man should feel, if he’s really a man.” 

“Because you’re an evil bitch,” Kadidia chuckled, and Channah threw her head back and laughed.

“Guilty as sin, darling,” she cackled.  “But that’s not really the reason.  Not the main one, anyway.  It was mainly because boy parts are so much more useful for teasing and controlling than girl parts.  Imagine, a girl like Penny, through and through.  Based on a great deal of experience, my intuition tells me Penny wouldn’t know what to do—or, more exactly, not even want to do what a man would want to do, even if I let her.  No matter what she’s heard and been taught about it.  Would she?”

Kadidia nodded begrudgingly, laughing.  “We can all sense it, Majesty,” she agreed.  “We know a girl when we see one.  Regardless of her outer form.”

“So she doesn’t have any real use for those parts, except to control her.  And by deciding for her, I’m really doing her a favor by shielding her from having to face that embarrassing truth!”

“Thank your Master, pussy!”  Kadidia barked, with a big grin.

“Thank—you—Domina!”  Penny grunted and groaned.

“But you, Chas…”  Channah turned back towards the blonde girl.  “I’m guessing you like to play the boy sometimes, even when you’re a girl.  Am I right?”

“Oh, yes, Domina!”

“And there’s—ungh!—another big difference between you two, isn’t there, little Chastity?”

Chastity reddened.  “Maybe,” she whispered in a tiny voice.  “I’m not sure.”

“Oh, I think you’re.. sure!  Penny, even you’re sure, aren’t you?”

She swallowed.  “About what, Domina?  Ah!”

“About your future.  Does it turn you on, baby?  Do you dream about it at night?”  she giggled, eating up Penny’s uncertainty and confusion and worst of all, the dread that she might just know where this was going after all.  And when she didn’t say anything, Channah asked:  “All your life, have you just dreamed about boys doing the things to you that I like to do?”

Penny reddened and whispered in a tiny voice, biting her lip as she came closer still to what she was afraid her body was about to do for the second time today:  “No, Mistress.”

“Who do you dream about being your big, nasty masters?  Boys or girls?”

“Girls, Master,” Penny whimpered.

“Then I—well, my clients—your customers—and I are going to have to train you until you learn to like it, aren’t we?”

“I—I don’t know if that’s ever going to—” Penny tried to avoid answering, but then, meeting her eyes, trailed off, crumbled, and yielded miserably:  “Yes, Domina.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I will need to be trained to be that kind of girl, Domina.”

“And do you doubt I can train you?  Do you doubt I will?”                                                                                                             

“No Domina” she whispered, her lip quivering cutely as tears rolled down her cheeks, certain she could be broken by the much-stronger force of nature leaning over her, hands on the bar from which Penny was hanging, bearing over and down on her with a fierce and predatory grin as she continued to make a point of Penny’s weakness and receptivity.

“Awww…. Good girl!  I wish I could kiss you but—not right now.”  And then she dug the knife in:  “How about Chas, Penny?” she grinned evilly again.

Literature Section “06-111[X] Girls and Boys and Succubae, Oh My!”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 111 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1324 words::Explicit 1363 words—Accompanying Images:  1888-1892—Published 2025-06-10—©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.

Explicit version containing masturbation, orgasm, penetration, edging, and draining themes at 06-110X Chastity Comes Back for More at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

1884 06-110 She’s a compliant little bitch, isn’t she?
1885 06-110 That’s it, Slut-a-rella.  Make my boots spotless
1886 06-110 DON’T drop that skirt, missy!  We’re not done!
1887 06-110 Does ordering her around ever… make you wet?

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah leads Penny in an intense and passionate dance.  Meanwhile, Kadidia is propping up a comatose Chastity beside Channah, who has urged Penny to help Kadidia revive her.  NOW:

“Chas, Chastity, please wake up!”  Penny called out sincerely with her heart and soul.  “Come back, you can do it!  I did, I know you can too!”

Kadidia leaned over Chastity’s shoulder, putting one hand across Chastity’s chest, turned her head to the side, and kissed her on the lips, breaking the spell that had banished Chas from her own body.  Almost immediately Chastity jerked and came awake, causing Penny to cry out thankfully with relief.

“Good work, Pleaser!” Channah praised her, keeping one hand on the bar and using the other to reach out and take Penny’s chin in her hand, forcing her to look her in the eyes and see the hunger and the passion there.  Penny shivered, helplessly charged by Channah’s charisma, magic, and raw sexual energy, multiplied by Penny’s own sensitivity and responsiveness.  Channah dialed back the pressure on Penny, allowing the tickler to pulse, steady and low; while she drew her hand back from Penny’s chin.  Penny tensed and gasped in fear, causing Channah to laugh.  “Oh, poor widdle baby so nervous!  Please don’t worry, sweetie, this is what you’ve been waiting for!  Mama’s gonna love you baby…” then she snickered, unable to be completely sweet here, in this environment, with the wickedness she had planned.  “Mostly.”

But then she showed the girl just how sweet she could be, as Penny continued to swing back and forth.  As they continued to sweat and move together, the sound turned flatter, moist, and nasty, from the soft whisper of skin on skin to a wet slapping sound of flesh on flesh like women having a slap fight in a rain storm.  Channah bit her lip, for her own pleasure and rude satisfaction, and to show Penance how hot and dominant she was feeling.  Penny’s own face and slack jaw, even without regard to her trussed-up position, made it clear how perfectly she was complementing Channah with her passivity and submission, starting to moan very quickly with real pleasure as Channah’s behavior let her turn from fear to hope, resignation to interest and arousal, and soon, soon, desperation. 

Slap.  Slap.  Slap!  She bounced the girl extra-hard just for fun, giggling with Penny’s wail and her own sudden dizzy suspense as Penny swung out to maximum arc and Channah waited to find if they would be able to continue, or be rudely interrupted. 

But it was edging perfection:  Penny came soooo close to escaping her they both gasped before she returned and they both cried out in relief, the sounds both of them were making, taking on a little, desperate edge.

Meanwhile, next to Channah, having awakened her princess with a kiss, Kadidia played with Chastity’s nipples and held her tight, murmuring into her ear how much she looked forward to taking her the next time they were on this parapet together. 

Chas gasped when her mind started processing well enough to listen and make sense of Kadidia’s words, and Kadidia chuckled, deep in her throat.

“Oh? hmm…” the girl mumbled, only half-awake, the delicious sound turning into a surprised yelp.  “Who are YOU!??!”  And immediately after her genuine, unconscious outburst, realizing she had just barked at—first, a giantess; and second, someone who almost certainly outranked her—she started apologizing:  “I’m sorry, D—Mis—”

“Your Grace, Your—Your Grace, Chas!”  Penny came to her rescue.  “She’s Succubus Duchess Kadidia!”

“Your Grace!”  Chas repeated automatically, her eyes wide and looking every which way.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just—I don’t know—I can’t remember—PENNY!!”  she screeched suddenly, taking in her circumstances.  Even Penny managed a tiny weak rueful smile as Chastity, continuing to process and taking in Penny’s rearing flesh and desperate face, inferred that she was okay.  At least, insofar as any living soul dragged to hell for unnatural supernatural sex-torture rituals and hung out over a precipice above an ocean of ravenous devils could be.

And then, her third realization hit:  “Penny!  You—you’re so beautiful!  Oh, oh Penance—I can’t stand it—you—you—you’re so pretty!”

Penny’s face crumbled and she moaned.  “I know I’m a mess…”

“A hot mess, girl,” Chas promised.  “And I mean—girl!  What happened to you?  Wait—what happened to me?!  I was so scared, Penny, I—”

“Hush,” Kadidia commanded, taking her chin again and turning her back to face her captor, eyes wide with anticipation and arousal in the most primal of senses, focus and attention and heightened blood responding to prepare her body for whatever she was going to need to do next—fight, flee, or fuck—because Chas, bound and held from behind by a woman two or three times her size, had already kind of figured out she wasn’t going to be left alone.  She was still adjusting and nowhere near arousal quite yet, but she was starting to wrap her mind around her circumstances, remember she had cum earlier without permission, been punished, and then been—she shuddered with the recollection, and decided she didn’t want to think about it just now.  Couldn’t possibly think about it now, with Penny and the Duchess and—and—

Channah grunted:  “Chastity—you’re—you’re with us again?  You have the presence of mind to know what’s—ungh—happening around you?” 

“Yes, Domina,” she responded, still sounding dazed even to herself, but nodding as much as she could with Kadidia still holding her chin.  Less than a minute of awareness, and the very first moments of first setting eyes on, or even imagining anything like, Kadidia, and she already felt the heat of Kadidia’s easy power.  She realized of a sudden, with complete certainty, she could not resist Kadidia, physically or mentally, even if she tried her very hardest.  She swallowed and sighed involuntarily under Kadidia’s hands, pleasing the succubus with her natural reaction.  Kadidia’s hand moved lower.  Chastity sighed, and sank back into Kadidia’s big, brown, amused eyes.

“This one’s a natural-born slut,” Kadidia evaluated her, just like that, and Chas turned red, making a helpless little noise.

Literature Section “06-110[X] Chastity Comes Back for More”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 110 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1003 words::Explicit 1146 words—Accompanying Images:  1884-1887—Published 2025-06-09—©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.

1881 06-109 Channah, Khan of an Unholy Hoard
1882 06-109 Channah, Master of Horses and Slavegirls alike
1883 Channah, Domina of Rome, Champion of the Colosseum

Explicit version containing orgasm, sodomy, and analpenetration themes at 06-109X The Last Sedcuction at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny are locked in an intense and passionate dance, Channah desperate for an intimacy she never imagined existed and Penny whipsawed by her deep responses to her alternating affection and abuse, all of it magnified by the larger powers unleashed by the darkest rituals of the succubae in this unholiest of places.  NOW:

Channah drove Penny like a charioteer driving her mare into a frantic lather at the colosseum, heedless of—no, reveling in—the damage and chaos she caused as chariots crashed and competing animals and drivers were destroyed all around her, a price she was willing to pay for her victory, and indeed enjoyed as a benefit of it.

Faster and faster, her hips powered her tattoo against Penny’s soft buttocks and thighs, sending the girl bouncing everywhere her position, hanging suspended by her wrists and ankles like a human swing over the fiery pit, allowed her to rock.  Channah gripped the railing above her, making hers a full-body workout, barely aware someone else was substituting in for Kadidia behind her,. 

One of the greatest benefits of the twister, Channah thought, not for the first time, was how it worked on both a succubus and her boy under the nearly-second-nature instinct of the succubus.  It was powered largely by her subconscious, becoming just another muscle flexing automatically, in conjunction with all her other muscles, to effectuate her desires.  It also allowed her to focus even more-selfishly upon her own pleasure and satisfaction, while it coiled and shifted and mustered itself to put just the right pressures, in just the right places, at just the right pace, to tease and torment her girls the way Channah liked to do, without Channah having to think too much about aiming or aligning herself with any particular part of a partner’s body. The twister did that for her.  Channah’s grunting became more and more primal as she warmed up again, so hot and high she almost imagined she could turn off the firehose of her seductive magic and still take this mood further by just riding it.  But maybe she was less confident of that than she ought to be.  What she told herself, was that she couldn’t risk letting up because for the sake of the ritual, she needed Penny to have conflicting experiences of pleasure and torment at once, while she experienced perfect bliss.

Channah’s eyes started fluttering as she threw her head back and roared like a lioness, hearing Penny’s strangled cries complementing her.  Oh!  She was so responsive, deeply and instinctively:  a perfect lover and plaything for a selfish bitch of a succubus.

Channah whispered another string of filthy curses, these all of human origin but from half a dozen different languages.  “I’m—soo proud of you, pretty girl!  You’re—almost done, baby!”  she assured her submissive lover.

“Yes, Domina!” she screamed agreement, misunderstanding.

“No—I mean—afterwards, when you’re really drained and at your lowest ebb—if I give you a turn, I’m going to need you to do something for me.  Really give it your all.”

“IF?!”  Penny wailed, uncomprehending.  “IF?!”  She wept.  “I don’t think I even want this!  Not—not this way, ooh, aah!  I don’t think I even should be able to—it’s not right—BUT I DON’T THINK STOPPING IS AN OPTION DOMINA!!!” she half-hollered, half-whined.  “I can’t—I can’t imagine—I can’t even think—oh, god, Domina!  What you do to meeeeee!”

“Yes, ‘if’ baby,” she insisted, hardly able to imagine it herself, and determined to make Penny say ‘yes’ because if she said ‘no’… Channah had no idea what she would do.  Stop herself?  Really?  Oh Penny you have to say yes…. But out loud, she managed:  “It isn’t a right for jawari slave-girls, is it?”

“No Domina,” Penny had to agree, shaking her head, almost looking as if it were beyond her ability to imagine but she knew she had to obey.

“No, sweetie, it’s a privilege.  A—gift.  A—a—fucking blessing, bitch!”

“Yes, Domina!  I know, Domina,” Penny whined and wept.

“So, yes, IF you—you want it, baby, and it’s totally up to you, but I’m—I’m going to need you to—show me you mean it when you promise you want to make me happy.  Show me, once and for all, tonight, before you leave this platform.”

Penny looked genuinely surprised, although it was a little difficult to be sure under the submissive, helpless, completely placative and adoring posture she displayed to show respect for her Domina.  Eyes rolling and voice rising plaintively, she wailed in shock:  “You mean there’s more?  What else—what else IS there, Domina?”

“Taking this from another boy, bitch, instead of from a girl with bonus features.  You’ve known it was coming, don’t pretend you didn’t!”

“I—I know, I didn’t understand—I know I agreed Domina!  I won’t go back on my pledge, Domina, I promise!  I’ll give you everything.  I want to give you everything!  I know that now!  I just—I didn’t know what you wanted!”  She sobbed.  “I promise, Master, I’ll do as you command!  I know what you expect from me, Domina!  I’ll be good!  I’ll be good!  I swear I’ll be good, Domina, anything you want, whoever you want, I love you!”

“Oh, dumpling,” she purred, “I know you want to be my good girl.  And I want you to be passionate, so sexy baby.  That’s why I’ve arranged an extra-special treat your first time, so maybe even you’ll learn -um, well,  it’s not exactly your first time, I guess, is it?  I mean, the first time you put out for me, darling.”  Keeping her eyes feasting on Penny’s desperate, pathetic, needy form dangling out in space, absolutely nothing but a bit of air between her and the crazed armies of devils below, Channah called over her shoulder:  “Kadidia, is our other little girl ready to come back to us?”

“At your command, Majesty,” the woman answered, smoothly and calmly, her sweet bakhūr presence close by her side. 

“Then try to bring her back, Kadidia.  Penny, you can do your part to help by trying your best to lure her back to this world.  Show as much need and love as you can muster for your sister-wife!  Callher back to us!”

Penny’s eyes shifted just to Channah’s right, where Kadidia had casually propped up Chastity, nude except her cage, her twister, her ring, her collar, and the tight leather harness she had been strapped into, sexy elaborate straps crisscrossing over her body like threads of a spider’s web from her collar to her thighs.  Like a puppeteer storing a puppet, Kadidia had effortlessly set Chastity on her knees, holding her upright by one hand on one of her shoulders.  Chastity’s hands seemed to be tied behind her back, not that she was aware.  At the moment, her body was an empty meat suit, muscles slack, head dropping, an inanimate dead weight of flesh utterly disconnected from her friend, whose soul had been taken and secured somewhere far, far away from her body by the magic of the succubae.

Still reeling from her own experience there, the moment she caught sight of Chas, she screamed in horror and recognition, at the appalling absence of life writ large across her friend, something she knew she had done (had been?) only a few minutes before.  Her shock at the sight was compounded because she had had no perception of anything in this world when she was in the same state; and therefore, her conscious mind had not been presented before with the icewater spectacle of her friend’s body looking way more dead than alive. 

The mind and the body knew when they were looking at a dead thing.  They knew, and were shocked to the core.

Literature Section “06-109[X] The Last Seduction”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 109 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1246 words::Explicit 1353 words—Accompanying Images:  1881-1883—Published 2025-06-07—©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.

1874 06-108 Allll riiiight!  This is some good shit, man!
1875 06-108 Wait a second.  I feel funny… IT’S GOING BAD!  NOOO!!
1876 06-108 HEEELLLPPP!  Somebody let me out of here!
1877 06-108 Now I’ve got too many fucking fingers!  AAUUGH!

1878 06-108 Wait.  WTF are YOU doing down in here with me?!

1879 06-108 Et tu?!  SURPRISE!  Are you peeping in on my DREAMS?!
1880 06-108 NO!  Absolutely not!  Get OUT you old perv!

PREVIOUSLY:  Chastity, bound, blindfolded, and earplugged, her world shrunk nearly to the things she could feel against her skin, had been teased and then—triggered, taken away with shocking abruptness and in outrageous totality.  Esmeray, breathing carefully to stay calm, had been gently released and now was held, tenderly and respectfully, by Hong as she watched.  NOW:

“You’re going to bring her back from the edge and take her to the mattress,” Kadidia commanded, her voice oddly strained.  “Near the Queen.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Hong’s girls nodded and scrambled to obey, then paused as Kadidia continued, a sheen of sweat beginning to appear on her brow.

“You’re going to take the smaller of the two harnesses from the bag, truss her in it, and put her face-down on the mattress.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” they repeated, glancing momentarily, and with curiosity, at Hong as she gasped in recognition of something, then struggled to suppress a smile, all without saying a word.

“I want her involved,” Kadidia clarified, jabbing a finger toward Esmeray.

Hong curtsied and nodded.  “Of course, Your Grace.”

“And throughout all of this,” she turned her attention back to the four jawari, “you will keep your sister close beside me, within an arm’s length.  Treat her like a baby.  Do not drop her or handle her roughly or do anything to hurt her, jar her, cause her pain—nothing that could cause a reflexive response from a conscious person.  Also, do not talk to me or ask anything of me.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”  They looked at one another, uncertainly and uneasily, recognizing that something quite unusual and perhaps… risky?  Even dangerous?—was happening, but not understanding exactly what it was.  Only that it had something to do with what appeared to them to be an unconscious girl, but who in fact was much further away than that.

“You two—help me into my harness.  The larger one.  I want to do as little of the work as possible so I can concentrate.  Make it tight.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the two qahramanat chorused, scrambling forward, then paused when Kadidia raised a hand.

“Make it tight.  And make sure your girls make Chastity’s tight.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” they agreed, resuming their course.

The eight of them made for an odd parade, marching across the platform in some kind of complex rhythm intertwined with the jarring notes of the orchestra.  They walked slowly, the qahramanat and the four jawari looking constantly and carefully at Kadidia, to match her steady, but somehow tenuous, progress so they could stay close by.  Hong hovered with an eye on both Kadidia and her own jawari, as if to be ready to jump in and either protect Chastity from being jarred or dropped, or help Kadidia stay on course.  Kadidia and Chas were both snug and a bit savage-looking in their harnesses.  Esmeray followed slightly behind them, feeling oddly disgruntled and skeptical, not quite able to feel left behind and excluded, but equally unable to feel relieved at being on the periphery of whatever was happening, instead of an agent of action the way she had been.  Or could have been—whatever.  Either way, she was unhappy.

When they reached the mattress, Channah was just shifting Penny to the slicker stone beside it.  As the girls settled Chas gently down on the mattress, a scarcely-dressed member of the coven—thin, wiry, dark-haired, with deep brown eyes and skin like a subtle but beautiful shade of autumn leaves—crouched beside her and gently touched Chastity’s skin.

Almost immediately, her eyes met Kadidia’s and they nodded in synch, one, two, three times before the newcomer became unnaturally still, hands remaining on Chas; while at the very same second, Kadidia came back to full presence with a slight sigh of relief. 

Immediately, Kadidia went to help Channah and murmur in her ear, while Hong, considering, steered Esmeray to a point on the mattress less than eight feet from where Penny was sliding.  The two of them held hands for stability in their high heels on the squishy mattress.  It was firm and thin, as mattresses went, but still a challenge.  As they moved slowly across it, Hong asked:  “You were upset earlier when Chastity, and then my girls, got… excited near you.  If I’m right about what’s to happen….”

“What is about to happen?”

Hong laughed.  “It will be a lot easier to understand watching, than trying to explain; but basically, I think Kadidia is going to play with both girls—Penny and Chas,” Hong clarified unnecessarily.  She then impulsively leaned over, put her hand to Esmeray’s ear, and whispered.  Esmeray’s eyes widened and her cheeks turned slightly pink, surprised enough to forget all about Hong’s proximity, as Hong stepped back, giggling.  “I think.  Nobody consulted me, but that’s my best guess.  IF it happens that way, it’s going to be sloppy and vigorous and messy.”  She looked Esmeray carefully in the eyes.  “If that happens near you—now that you know to expect it—will you be able to stay still?  Or will that be too much?”

Esmeray considered before replying, reluctantly:  “It’s not too much.  I can do that.  If necessary.”

Hong shrugged.   “Her Grace asked me to involve you.  Some participation by you would seem to be required.  I was thinking… it will ruin your dress of course, because they’ve sprayed so much oil over Penny… but if you could sit—about—” Hong frowned, measuring off distances in her mind.  “Here!  Exactly here, facing that way, with your legs wide, perhaps we could set Penny between your legs with her head and shoulders on your lap.  Then you won’t actually… be involved, involved… but you can encourage Penny and bond with her.  She’ll be lost and needing support.”

“Really?”  Esmeray considered, suppressing a shudder.  “You think she… would trust me more?  Be more submissive to me, if I…?”

“Yes,” Hong nodded decisively, leaving no room for doubt.  “Both your girls.  They’e having a rough day and they feel isolated and scared in this place.  Even horny uppity little Chastity, no matter how much bravado she tries to show.”

Esmeray looked at Hong, startled.  “Bravado?!” she asked incredulously.  “You think—what she did—”

Hong nodded.  “Oh, yes.  I’ve seen it before.  Sometimes a girl with a boy-clit can forget herself and try to act like she’s a male back in human society.  They can be silly show-offs.  And of course, you punish them and teach them better.   But that’s what’s happening.  They’re mad at themselves, and they take it out on the world.  But my point is, feeling vulnerable and isolated, the way they must do today, you can imprint on them very heavily and positively with the smallest amounts of support.  Kind talk.  Encouraging talk.  Even silly soothing baby talk.  Anything showing your humanity will make a profound impression on them.  If you can hold their hand, or pet their hair, or lay an arm across them—” and noticing a slight stiffening in Esmeray’s posture, laughed gently.  “You’re hopeless.  It’s nothing.”  And she touched Esmeray softly, her expression going from challenging, to flat and dead illustrating how completely immaterial the touch was to her, to smirking amusement.  “If you can, that will go even further.  If you can’t,” she shrugged “it’s fine.  There’s always tomorrow.  Being a qahramanah is about training them for the long game, to serve our masters, and…” she whispered naughtily “to serve us.  Now, Her Grace is an impressive woman.”

“She certainly is,” Esmeray had to agree.

“If you start to feel crowded or trapped, first try lying back on your elbows.  This gives you a reason for not using your hands on them, because you need them yourself.  And if that’s still not enough space, lie all the way back and look up at the sky, or at the castle, anything—take yourself physically out of the equation, maybe even listen to the sounds from below, or of the orchestra, without physically separating your legs and lap from them.”

“I understand,” Esmeray nodded, managing to keep most of the revulsion and amazement out of her voice.  “They’re interesting ideas.”

“I’ll sit close—not too close!” she laughed “Behind you so I can coach you or you can ask questions.  Would that be all right?”

After a pause to think, Esmeray nodded with more confidence.

Literature Section “06-108[X] Bracing for Impact”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 108 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1338 words—Accompanying Images:  1874-1878—Published 2025-06-06—©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.


1870 06-107 Watcha wanna do, fairy stepmother?
1871 06-107 Do you trust me?  Completely, fairy stepmother!
1872 06-107 I’m going to rock you AND your whole world
1873 06-107 Is your little lap buddy going to rock me, too?

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, watersports, corporalpunishment, urination, and prostatestimulation themes at 06-107[X] A Succubaean Sex Stunt at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny are locked in an intense shared experience higher than treble singers in a helium balloon on Channah’s sex magick, Channah desperate for an intimacy she never imagined existed and Penny shattered body and soul by her brilliant ruthless exploitation of her unparalleled knowledge of the human male.  NOW:

Laughing cruelly, Channah watched with savage glee as the last of Penny’s water dribbled out of her flaccid little underperformer. 

“Keep begging, bitch!” Channah giggled, just to be a bitch, and Penny’s incoherent noises became peppered with recognizable words like “please” and “beg” and “Domina” and “no!” and “ugh!” and “I need—I need—oh ggggaaaaaawwwwwwdddddd….  What you do to me, Master!  Oh!  Oh!  Aiee!”  Like that.

Penny’s pleasing cries and their hot, sick scene went on until, using one of Miryam’s discarded stockings to mop up, Channah snapped:  “Open up!  Mouth wide open, come on, hold it!”  and then crammed the soggy mass of silk into Penny’s mouth, stuffing it down as deeply as she could until Penny gagged, reducing her noises to much more satisfactory muffled grunts and cries; and then pulling the other stocking around Penny’s head, tying it off as tightly as she could, holding Penny’s lips wide apart and the first stocking in place deep in her mouth.

As she was enjoying this, a massive presence Channah recognized even before she saw two midnight-black hands thread a rope under her arms, in front of her breasts, or smelled the spicy, distinctive aroma of the bakhūr Kadidia alone used in her perfume.  A second later, Channah felt the rope drawn tightly under her arms and knew at once that she would be perfectly safe no matter what occurred as she and Penny continued their slide towards the lip of the platform.

Channah kept rocking her girl, harder and harder, as Fang and Judah wrapped the two chains holding her wrists and ankles together on each side of her, twice around the railing just above the shackle anchor points as a safety, sliding them with a metallic chunking sound to keep them taut as Penny approached the edge at a point where there was nothing between the railing and the platform itself to stop anything going over.  Channah kept smearing her hands all over Penny’s shoulders and arms and legs and neck and sides while her belly did the same to Penny’s, covering every inch of the girl with oil until she was shiny from head to toe and slipperier than a stick of butter.

Penny screamed as her head, and then her shoulders, and then her back, slid over the lip of the hetaraslakos with increasing speed as the amount of surface area to provide friction slowing her, shrank.  A second later, Fang and Judah pulled the chains as tight as they could.  The bar was positioned with people of average height in mind.  Because Penny was quite a petite girl, the final yank on her chains actually lifted her shoulders, and then her hips, several inches above the surface, even as Fang and Judah slammed the pins closed on the two shackle mounts locking Penny firmly into place, hanging like a trussed pig from a roasting pole, her arm and leg on each side suspended from a sturdy hook under the railing. 

The poor girl was still screaming and wailing, trying to put together what had happened and whether she was about to die, or perhaps dead already, while the coven members roared with laughter and clapped one another on the back at a perfectly-executed suspension of a virgin—in this context, meaning a jariya who had never been suspended before, or even seen a suspension before.  Channah did note, with distinct relief, that as much as Channah’s manipulations had overridden what the girl’s mind and body intended, causing her to be incontinent in front, she had kept control of herself otherwise, which spoke well to Penny’s courage and presence of mind.  It was one of the risk factors that made suspension such a casino-like rush:  sometimes, weak-minded jawari ended the game before it had fully begun in that way, and were left to dangle in humiliation and increasing pain from overtaxed muscles, ignored until the succubae and the band had left and the cleaning crew arrived to restore the platform to pristine condition for next time.  Needless to say, jawari who insulted a succubus and ruined her day in such a way, drew the least-desirable and most-dangerous assignments, as far away from the succubae as possible, after that. 

So Penny had passed yet another offhand and arbitrary test to satisfy the whims of her masters without ever knowing it was occurring.

Like an oak tree, without breaking a sweat, Kadidia stopped and held Channah so her knees remained on the platform an inch or two from the edge.  Miryam and Rivqah slipped kneepads under Channah’s knees for her comfort.  If the jariya were left alone, hanging in place, gravity would bring their hips to rest just where Channah’s spine was; which meant the succubus had plenty of leverage to thrust against her victim’s haunches, especially since petite, pretty Penny was suspended between six and twelve inches above the platform by her short legs.  Laughing at Penny’s lost, confused, anxious, uncomfortable expression, Channah resumed her attentions.

It was a skill.  An art.  One Channah and the other succubae had had centuries to practice, to perfect, and to elaborate upon.  Channah quickly and expertly fell into a perfect rhythm, timing her movements so her jariya’s momentum increased, propelled out away from Channah’s body until they were almost (but not quite) separated, then swinging back down, before repeating the cycle again.

Below them, the heady mixture of arousal, pain, fear, need, and power imbalance acted on the crowd like PCP, simultaneously stimulating them, polluting them, and ripping whatever was left of their minds and bodies to shreds.  Their noise began rising again, their movements to speed up, their center mass to press forward to a point directly under Penny’s swinging body.  From her position, even in her aroused and fully-occupied condition, Channah could tell something was terribly wrong below; but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.  It didn’t seem to be interfering with the energy of the tortuous dance she was leading them all in, so she pushed it to the back of her mind for now; but her impression of wrongness was clear and strong enough she wasn’t likely to forget about it.

Penny flew and swung back and forth like a pendulum, faster and faster as Channah felt a power storm start building and gathering within her.

Literature Section “06-107[X] A Succubaean Sex Stunt”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 107 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1055 words::Explicit 1139 words—Accompanying Images:  1870-1873—Published 2025-06-05—©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.


1866 06-106 WTF is THAT, stepmother, and what does it want?!
1867 06-106 What do you keep a wiggly thing like that around for, stepmother dear?

1868 06-106 Why is Mr. Wiggles looking at me that way?
1869 06-106 What on EARTH do those wiggly things want from ME?!

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, watersports, corporalpunishment, urination, and prostatestimulation themes at 06-106[X] Squeezing Penny ‘til She Pops at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny are locked in an intense shared experience higher than treble singers in a helium balloon on Channah’s sex magick, Channah desperate for an intimacy she never imagined existed and Penny shattered body and soul by her brilliant ruthless exploitation of her unparalleled knowledge of the human male.  NOW:

“You should be ashamed of your infantile loss of control!”  Channah scolded her fiercely, looking down and laughing.  “You’re leaking everywhere, sweetie.  If you were a man, you’d be too interested in me to worry about your bladder.  But because you’re really a girl, you’re still soft as pudding…” then, with a laugh, she blurted:  “I love that!  That’s what you are, isn’t it, Pleaser?  You’re my very own little Puddin’, aren’t you darling?”

“No!  You’re doing things to me—things I can’t—I don’t even understand!” she blubbered pitifully, shaking her head, trying to make sense of it.  Less rationally, wanting to deny it.  “No, that can’t be…”

“But it is,” Channah insisted, “and we’ve got the evidence to prove it, don’t we, girlie?  Shall I make you admit it?  You pee when there’s pressure on your bladder just like any other girl.”  

Because it was clear by now Penny would—Penny only could, helplessly—submit unconditionally to anything her erastes did to her, she didn’t need to bother with holding Penny’s ankles or wrists any more.  But she wanted Penny to know how deeply submissive she was, so she gathered her eromenos’s wrists back into her right hand and yanked them down and behind Penny’s head, allowing Channah to rest her weight on her own hand and use it for leverage while pinning Penny’s below it.  With her left hand, she started smearing her hand over Penny’s tummy and breasts, then brought her hand to Penny’s mouth. 

“Please no!”  Penny tried to murmur with her lips together.

Channah just laughed harder, watching Penny’s eyes dart to their audience before she looked back at Channah with horror, shaking her head violently. 

“Open right now, Puddin’, or it will go badly for you,” Channah ordered her roughly.  And with a particularly loud wail, Penny surrendered again, another long swath of whatever dignity she still had roughly torn away like a layer of clothing, helplessly accepting another indignity, opening her mouth as she cried and accepted Channah’s fingers.  Channah used her right hand behind Penny’s neck, holding her wrists, to lift her up partially and maneuver her onto the slippery oil-covered stone beside them; using her left hand to pull Penny’s hair, and then again to slide over her skin.  Looking up at her coven members, she instructed them:  “This little girl’s already made a mess of herself—and me.  Just pour oil on her.  I want her slipperier than a greased pig with her cuffs paired for the swing.”

Penny opened her mouth and started to complain, or plead, or something.  With a sneer, Channah immediately shoved her freshly lacquered fingers into Penny’s mouth again.  And that was that for Penny’s little protest, or whatever it would have been.  Channah talked instead, as she cruelly moved her hips again and again, as hard as she could, the girl looking pitifully uncomfortable beneath her.  “You look rough, honey,” she pretended to pout.  “Is baby sore?”  She nodded, laughing when Penny nodded agreement around her hand.  She removed it and slapped Penny’s cheek.  “Too bad.  Little babies who ruin their masters’ clothing are going to be uncomfortable.  Because they deserve it.  See?  Your disgraceful display is only more evidence you’ve been a girl all along.”

“NOO, Master!”  Penny bawled uselessly.  Looking back down at Penny, Channah smiled wolfishly at the scared, uncertain, lost expression struggling for real estate on Penny’s panting, overstimulated, passion-tortured face and kept moving over the smaller girl, giggling as Penny’s oily shoulders and back started slipping over the stone surface.  She laughed aloud watching as Rivqah cooed and verbally humiliated Penny while she sputtered and spat, trying to keep the stream of oil Rivqah was dribbling all over her face, out of her mouth.

Channah had known her knees would suffer on the stones without kneepads, but she felt herself becoming irritated and cranky anyway, taking it out on Penny by working harder than before, holding her wrists in a vicelike grip so as the rest of her body slid, her wrists slipped beneath her neck to an uncomfortable position, and by being careless with Penny’s sensitive new curves, alternating—one hand in her mouth, the next percussed on her curves, with a bit of hard pinching for added effect.  “You’ve got nice, classic lines Penny.  With those curves, you’re going to make a lot of men very happy.  And I do mean a lot,” she cackled as Penny practically flinched.  “So you’d better get used to that funny, intense feeling inside you.  Learn to enjoy it, if you can.  And figure out some way to get that girl-bladder under control, or you’re going to find yourself over the knees of a lot of frustrated clients being disciplined for disrespecting them!”  She shook her head, marveling as Penny continued to struggle to control herself. 

Suddenly she frowned.  “Whatever happened to your panties?  And Esmeray’s panties?  We could use those—to—unh!  Absorb all this!”  She looked up and chuckled when she saw Miryam wryly kicking off her boots and removing her silk stockings, even as Rivqah kept pouring oil on Penny—as directly toward her mouth and nostrils as possible—and then flicking the oily stream above Penny’s head to lubricate the stones ahead of her.

At the same time, Judah and Fang took Penny’s wrists from Channah and attached each one to a delicate ankle, using two carabiners that already dangled chains.  This freed both of Channah’s hands to explore Penny’s new girl body, even as she continued to tease and torment the girl by turns with pinches, slaps, tickles, light trailing brushes, and deep tissue massage.  And, of course, force-feeding her until Miryam casually dropped her stockings on Penny’s tummy and tucked them down between her legs. 

Channah used her control over Penny’s insides to squeeze her hard, even as Channah’s fingers seized and squeezed her victim on the outside, giggling as Miryam’s stockings prevented a fountain from spraying in every direction around Channah’s tightly-clasped fingers.  She used every bit of force she could to wring Penny’s insides, exulting while Penny’s orchestra of sounds and noises took on a choked, gurgling quality expressing the potent cocktail of feelings and experiences she was being compelled to imbibe by turns.  Her pitch soared and fell as the pressure intensified and peaked, and their audience laughed and applauded.

Literature Section “06-106[X] Squeezing Penny ‘til She Pops”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 106 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1059 words::Explicit 1186 words—Accompanying Images:  1866-1869—Published 2025-06-04—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

1860 06-105 It’s Kool-Aid for your brain…
1861 06-105 That’s a perfectly natural reaction.  So keep inhaling!

1862 06-105 You’re a silly little girl.  Keep puffing!
1863 06-105 I think she’s ready for us, Mistress
1864 06-105 NOW she’s ready… Bwa ha ha ha ha ha!
1865 06-105 Since it can’t be real, there are no consequences!^

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, watersports, urination, and prostatestimulation themes at 06-105[X] Channah Thoroughly Ravishes Penance at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny have just had the magical experience of a lifetime, turning Penny into a futa as their privacy shield fell.  Uncharacteristically experiencing a devastating top drop after falling from the dizzying heights to which they had risen, Channah has jump-started them both again with her magic and is ruthlessly overcoming shy Penny’s reservations and thoughts of resistance at the prospect of being royally and humiliatingly romanced in front of an audience.  NOW:

Whether from trust in and a desire to please her Master, the intensity of the connection surging between them, the magical fountain pouring into her, or simply the raw force of Channah’s shoulders on her ankles and hands gripping her wrists, after a final little flutter of resistance manifested in an aimless, anxious wiggling of her extremities, Penny calmed down and stopped struggling, making her legs relax as much as she could so Channah didn’t have to strain quite as much.  Penny meekly accepted being virtually folded in half, whining and panting and moaning into Channah’s lips as she was able to relax her muscles to accommodate Channah’s insistent demands on her and comply with Channah’s pleasure. 

Helplessly, with Channah romantically ravaging her, with Channah’s demon tongue snaking deeply into Penny’s delicate mouth, with Channah’s energy surging through Penny’s chakras, and with Channah’s shoulders pinning Penny’s legs back at such an extreme angle she could almost suck her own toes, Penny started to cry out, her cheeks fiercely red with the shame of her willing, indeed cooperative and increasingly ardent, degradation before so many people.

“Beg more,” Channah slurred around their lips.  “Show them all what a shameless little hussy you are.”  And when Penny turned even redder instead of speaking:  “Confess your desires NOW!”

Sobbing, Penny begged, as wantonly and desperately as she could, absolutely in earnest because her silence had been the modesty of not wanting to reveal her truth, rather than a reflection of any inner calmness or perspective.  Because she had none:  By now, Channah was her whole world again, and pleasing Channah her whole and sincere purpose.

“Take me Master!” she pleaded, nearly crazed with the abandon, as much as arousal, of throwing all her own sensibilities and modesty to the winds in order to submit to her Domina and fulfill her Domina’s desires under such conditions.  Responding to Channah the way she commanded and demanded required her total surrender to her Domina, to her fate, to her shame, to her extremely public degradation because it allowed no half-measures.  There was nothing, not one shred of personal dignity or self-respect, that she could maintain and obey her Domina as she had to do and as she longed to do.  Her personality and feelings were being shredded into confetti by her Domina’s desires and the resulting conflicts tearing her apart.  “I don’t know what you’re doing to me Master!” She wailed hysterically, her voice muffled and interrupted as Channah kept kissing her and she kept kissing back.  “Ah!  Ah!  You’re—omigod, what you’re doing to me!  It hurts!  Why am I so eager, Master?”

“Because you’re a girl.  And I found the sweet girl spot inside you.  I—knew it was there!  I knew it!  I could tell!” she bellowed triumphantly.  “Some girls, a very few, are born that way,” Channah lied easily, enjoying scrambling her head as hard as she was her insides, “and now that I’ve finally found it, it’s brought your true self to the surface!”  She growled roughly, resting her forearms on her futa’s ankles to hold them down so she could use her fingernails to tickle her futa’s extremely sensitive and ticklish soles, watching Penny’s breathing turning into a desperate gasping sound, her head moving from side to side whenever Channah’s lips permitted as if she were searching for more oxygen.  Seeing Penny’s state, Channah allowed herself to use her tongue to gag her until she almost passed out from lack of air, just because she felt like seeing if she could. 

Channah reveled in her total power and command over her wiggling, wriggling, wailing, mindless futa love doll to which she had reduced a previously normal and clever boy.  But she knew there was more to it than that, the way she was feeling higher and higher and almost crazy with lust.  She was dimly aware she needed to stop feeding her own lust before she tore the girl limb from limb but she was loving the effect her magic was having on the girl, too much to stop feeding their connection just yet.  “It hurts a girl the first time, silly ninny,” Channah laughed, “surely even you know that much?  And a girl born like you, inside-out, I’m sorry, sweetie,” Channah laughed, “It’s gonna hurt a little bit every time.”  And Channah shivered with pleasure at the thought.

“I can’t stand it omigod ogod ogod I feel like I’m going to explode but I’m not even enjoying this!  Ohh… oh, no… It hur-ur-ur-ur-ur-ur-urts!  What’s happening to me?!?!”  she wailed and cried and shook her head and rolled her eyes and practically melted down into a puddle right in front of Channah’s devouring eyes, her warm, soft, passive, obedient body and over-the-top passion of agony and ecstasy all rolled up and intertwined together, bringing Channah to another emotional and physical peak.

The succubus threw her head back and howled like a wolf with glee, briefly meeting Miryam’s and Rivqah’s amazed, aroused, envious eyes.  Inspired, she barked:  “Oil.  Gallons!” tipping her head towards the smooth black stone past the edge of the mattress above Penny’s head, before she turned her attention back to her victim, nipping her bottom lip and tugging on it before smothering her in more kisses and stuffing her mouth again with demon tongue.  The Demon Queen relished the exquisite, delightful way her prey thrashed and bawled with painful confusion and panted and whined with passion all at once. Penny was utterly overwhelmed, unable to process all the conflicting, confusing, clanging sensations that were wracking her body.  “My body!  I hate it but I want it whatever you’re—I maybe—!  What’s happening to me, Domina?!  The things you do to me Master!  And now I’m….” she wept.  “I think I’m losing control!  I’m so ashamed!”

“You should be!”  Channah scolded her fiercely, looking down and laughing. 

Literature Section “06-105[X] Channah Thoroughly Ravishes Penance”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 105 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 979 words::Explicit 1078 words—Accompanying Images:  1860-1865—Published 2025-06-03—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

1856 06-104 Coven observing Channah and Penny through shield
1857 06-104 Coven opening shield
1858 06-104 Triggering Chastity
1859 06-104 Chastity’s Fate

Explicit version containing phallic, oralsex, analingus, and penetration themes at 06-104 Triggering Chastity at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Chas is shackled by her ankles with her wrists shackled behind her, blindfolded, and gagged, with her ears plugged.  Esmeray is shackled by the ankles overlooking the sea of devils and demons, restrained from falling down into the chasm they inhabit, only by a waist-high guard rail; while Hong holds her gently from behind, holding hands with her arms around Esmeray.  They are surprised by a new arrival.  NOW:

“Your Grace!” Hong gushed, releasing Esmeray, turning, and curtsying in a single fluid motion, matching the position already assumed by her four jawari. 

Esmeray, distracted by the physically stunning succubus in front of her and with no real good alternatives, settled for squatting where she stood, holding the top rail to keep her balance and help her pull back up to a standing position.  Having grown up in Ottoman Constantinople, unlike many Europeans, Esmeray had met plenty of black women in her life.  But none like this one.  She was well over six feet tall, voluptuous, and musclebound from head to toe with beautiful midnight-black skin, long thick braided hair, an intelligent, resolute face, and a determined expression that would deter anyone but a fool from wasting her time with nonsense.  She wore a light brown dress with white and dark brown geometric patterns Esmeray had never seen before, heavy brown almost masculine boots—perhaps because no boots made for normal women would have fit on her feet—and carried a large, heavy-looking canvas bag as if it were filled with air.

When she spoke, it was with a charming, musical accent almost at odds with her deep alto voice:  “Hong, always a pleasure.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Hong blushed, pleased.

“These are yours?” she asked, gesturing to her jawari.

“Yes, Your Grace.  Th—”

“And who is this?” she gestured towards the shackled woman.

“Hanim Esmeray Azlynn,” Hong answered immediately, startling Esmeray with her knowledge of Esmeray’s second name.  “Her Majesty’s Qahramanah.”

“Ah,” the woman nodded significantly, with the faintest hint of a smile.  “That makes more sense, then.”  Turning to Esmeray, she continued:  “The Queen told us you were wild.  Well,” she shrugged, with just enough of a hint of embarrassment to soften the statement, “I think ‘crazy’ may have been the actual language.  But I admit I didn’t expect to find a Qahramanah chained up.  That’s fairly atypical.”

“It’s her first day, Your Grace,” Hong explained smoothly, a fact for which the embarrassed Esmeray was glad on this one occasion.  “And she was faced with a… challenging situation.  It did not seem to be punishment, only correction,” Hong clarified.

“You look calm enough,” the woman opined, looking her up and down.  “Are you going to give me any trouble, or are you ready to be unchained?  We have a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it.”

Esmeray expected the last thing she would be inclined to do with a woman of this one’s stature, is make trouble.  And in the unlikely event she did, it would be carefully-planned, from behind, and heavily-armed.  Not shackled to a ledge.  “I’m recovered Your Grace,” she followed Hong’s lead.  “Thank you.”

“You can release her,” she addressed Hong again.  “Is this one—” she gestured at the naked young jariya shackled, bound, blindfolded, earplugged, and bent over the rail beside Esmeray “The English jariya called Chastity?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Good.  You—” she tossed a jar of olive oil to one of Hong’s girls.  “Prepare her.”

“Immediately, Your Grace,” she answered, quickly and unceremoniously moving to the helplessly-bound girl as they all watched—who wouldn’t have?—Hongan raise the bottle and artfully hold it a foot or so over Chastity’s back, so that when she began to pour, it came down directly on her coccyx with a force they all could immediately imagine, would feel like a stream of water to Chas, who jerked in surprise, and then tugged, reflexively and quite uselessly, from side to side as if trying to escape both the stream and her bonds.  The oil then followed gravity downhill, causing Chas to shiver, before dripping from the lowest point of her to the floor.

The woman laughed harshly.  “Good.  Hong, you have trained your bitches well.”

“Thank you, Duchess Kadidia,” she answered, using the opportunity to communicate the woman’s name and rank to Esmeray.

“Commendable artistry.  Thank you for reminding me of its benefits.  I was very—in an overly goal-oriented mood.  There’s not much time, but there’s enough for pleasure.”  Hongan blushed and curtsied cutely before Kadidia.  “Girls, while your Qahramanah releases Esmeray, I want the four of you to overstimulate our bad girl so she doesn’t feel neglected.  Use your four tongues and all forty of your fingers to lead her into distraction.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” they answered as one.  Hongjiao and Honghua dropped to their knees on either side of Hongan while Hongzhi, her greater original distance from Chas making her like the runt of a litter, spread her legs to stand on either side of the other girls and leaned forward over them.

Kadidia frowned as if making an artistic evaluation, trying not to laugh.  “Hmm… there’s not a lot of room there, is there?  You two on the sides can each keep one arm behind your sister.”

“Yws msh Kdd,” they murmured.  Hongan had ducked down, running her hands lightly along Chas’s calves and feet.  Hongjiao and Hongua dipped their hands in the oil before snaking them around her hips to play with her.  And Hongzhi used her hands to smear oil all over Chas’s back and shoulders.

Hong hissed with interest while Esmeray swallowed, looking down with all the judgment of a nun.  “It is pretty,” Kadidia concurred, setting her bag down, squatting beside it, and removing two brown leather harnesses from it.  Rooting deeper in her bag, she produced a small but elaborately-decorated wooden box, which Hong recognized as the last of her Domina’s wedding gifts to Channah.  Standing up, Kadidia opened the box, which contained two objects:  One a pair of golden tongs, the other both ordinary and extraordinary at once.  Ordinary, if suggestive, enough in unmistakable shape.  Extraordinary in its composition, which neither of the curious women really recognized or understood:  a deep, perfect black that absorbed light around it so perfectly no surface was even discernable.  Yet surely it must have one?

Using the tongs carefully but confidently to grip the base of the rounded tube, she set the box aside and asked Hong:  “Who’s the one standing?” 

“Hongzhi, Your Grace.”

“Hongzhi, please get the bottle of olive oil.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“You other girls—as much as I’d enjoy seeing olive oil splashed over you—” they laughed coyly up at her, awaiting her command.  “I need two of you to lean forward, using the railing as leverage, and take hold of Chastity’s shoulders.  In just a moment her legs are going to give out, and I don’t want the weight of her body to wrench her shoulders.”  The girls nervously nodded, doing as they were bidden.  “Yes, Your Grace.”

“As soon as she falls, the four of you are to release her and lay her on her back with her hands above her head… there,” Duchess Kadidia pointed to a spot on the platform near where they had left Channah and Penance, but was now hidden by a thick, unnatural blackish-gray cloud of swirling smoke surrounded by ten succubae and one incubus. 

Hong gasped, amazed she hadn’t felt anything as the coven members arrived, and realizing just how charged with passion, agony, and energy the air around them had become to mask the disruptions their arrivals must have caused.

Kadidia was cautioning them:  “Once this begins, do not talk to me except in extreme emergency.  Stay close to us, but do not cause any distractions.  I will need to concentrate on Chastity.” Stepping forward and holding the object close to Chastity, she nodded at Hongzhi:  “Pour more oil.  Don’t be stingy, that’s right.  And now the tripper,” she indicated the daggerlike blade with her free hand.  When it was coated, the thick oil giving it a surface to shine and reflect the light of the torches as long as it clung to it, she lined it up and pushed it forward, its touch causing Chastity, to stiffen in surprise before slumping, dead weight, as Kadidia had warned she would.

Literature Section “06-104[X] Triggering Chastity”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 104 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1330 words::Explicit 1415 words—Accompanying Images:  1856-1859—Published 2025-06-01—©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.