Tag: BDSM


1814 06-93 You need to be at peace with your place, slave
1815 06-93 Oh, did I forget to mention the scary side-effects?

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah has been passionately and aggressively dominating and making out with Penny, teasing the girl relentlessly.  Now she wants more than Penny’s consent to take advantage of her.  Oh, and there was something about unexplained magic having to do with the jewelry partially implanted in Penny while she was insensate… NOW:

Channah snorted at Penny’s choice of pronouns.  “I knew you would choose to call it mine,” she shook her head, lips tight and flat in a mixed expression of amused, but exasperated, affirmation.  “Still so hesitant to admit who you are, and how invested in our… entanglement you are.  We’ll continue working on that.  Yes.  It’s my fruit, the medlar.”  Pressing on it, emphasizing Penny’s tenderness for a quick second, she explained.  “It’s the last of my wedding gifts to you.”  She looked up expectantly.

“Thank you, Domina,” Penny managed, knowing she expected it and wanting to please her even while she was in shock about being locked up with yet another chain by her Master.  This one had been not merely locked onto her body—like her collar and cage—or stuffed into her body like the tickler, but had been threaded through her organs and skeleton in a way Penny had only seen meat being sewn up for cooking.

Channah nodded briefly, pleased, and was about to speak further; but Penny’s anxiety about what had happened to her while she was banished from the world—and thus, from her own body—was so great that despite her training in passivity and receptiveness, she couldn’t help herself.  She blurted out:  “What does ‘Manipura’ mean, Domina?!” Her own voice sounded to her like the wail of an imperiled maiden struggling not to panic.

Fortunately, delight in her distress seemed to displace any irritation with Penny’s uppityness and with a surprised look, she observed:  “You’ve never asked before.  I thought perhaps you were familiar with the chakras?”

“No, Domina, please explain them to me?” Penny pleaded.

“In India, Hinduism and Buddhism have a tradition of practicing meditative arts known as tantra.  The chakras are various focal points in the body they concentrate on in a variety of their meditative practices, to help influence energy flows within the body.”  Channah shrugged.  “The actual human connection to the divine…. Isn’t known to us, regardless of which tradition—that is to say, religion—it falls under.  As far as we know, influencing energy flows may be genuinely part of the divine or simply a conceit by superstitious humans.  Or, most likely, it may be a form of magic acting on them internally.  That’s what we use the chakras for—to manipulate the flow of magic through living bodies.”

She noticed Penny’s frown of confusion and frustration, and held up her palm.  “Don’t even bother to ask me about how or whether tantra actually works.  For us, what matters is, the same or similar focal points are useful in directing the flow of magic through the body.”  With a smirk, she placed her hands on Penny’s collar and neck, pressing down and squeezing enough to remind Penny (as if she needed the reminder) of Channah’s strength and control.  “The Vishuddha is where we begin.  It relates to communication and thus to hierarchy and interpersonal relations.  It’s why your collar is so effective at linking us together, practically melding our souls to one another.  As you already know, it also has to do with longevity.”

She twitched her hips:  “Your Svadhishthana… maybe you understand this one already?  Maybe you feel it?” She taunted Penny mercilessly, laughing archly at her wince of pain as Channah caused her to push her literal and unforgiving limits.  “It is all about sex, procreation, and creativity.  Lift your legs,” she commanded, rising up higher on her knees, and when Penny hesitated she prompted him:  “Come on!  Legs up!  Right now!”  And as soon as Penny raised them, confused, she reached back to swat her, hard, on the bottom, then slammed back down on her midsection knocking her legs back down to the ground.  “Your Muladhara is your root.  It goes to basic trust, core emotional state, and foundational energy.  Does my presence there make you feel vulnerable?”  And she twisted Penny, not brutally, but across a range of her insides so broad it took her breath away, making her feel like she was so full everywhere she was about to explode.

“Yes, Domina, yes!” Penny yelped, her frantic expression and wide eyes giving Channah a thrill of pleasure. 

“I’ll bet you do.  I’ll just bet.”  And she relaxed her grip, a vise becoming a warm supporting hand.  “And when we’re united, top and bottom together, as we should be?  A whole?  When you’re good to me and obedient and when I’m pleased with you, so we feel trusting and connected to one another?  How does that make you feel, sweetheart?  Safe and secure?”

“Yes, Master,” Penny sighed, so relieved and submissive she almost sounded strangled. 

“Which brings us to our fourth bond.”  She played with her belly-button, then ran her fingers over Penny’s tummy and chest, causing her to gasp.  “Your new Manipura ring.  It’s about enhancing your wisdom and power.  It will also make you see more clearly and make your feet more sensitive.”  She giggled throatily.  “I’m going to take full advantage of that, believe me!  Today, here, in the hetaraslakos, is all about power.  But I’m sure, becoming more powerful doesn’t worry you.  It’s the acceptance of wisdom.”

“Why—why would wisdom worry me?”  Penny asked fearfully, knowing full well there was something Channah was preparing to drop on her.  Something big, that Penny was going to find upsetting.  Unless she’d just been messing with Penny’s head earlier….

“The ultimate wisdom is knowing and accepting—no.  More than that:  knowing and embracing!  Enthusiastically embracing who you are and the world you live in so you can live the life you were meant to live.  The Manipura ring provides the magic to help you realize the person you truly are, if you’re worthy enough. But you have to be able to admit it to yourself.  If you can’t, our connection will never be complete and we can never have the relationship I want us to have, that I’ve been trying to build with you.  It’s so important, Penny, I hope you can see that.  It’s called a realization spell.  Whoever you are, whatever you are, at your most basic level… the magic senses it, and helps you become the person you want to be.  It relates to morganatic marriage because it helps ensure a good match for the Domina and a loving, unconflicted girl who can focus her energies on her Domina’s problems, instead of selfishly obsessing on herself.  The subordinate, or base—” she pointed down at him “that’s you, precious—proves that she is worthy of the marriage by surrendering herself completely to her top.  And in return, having shown that her true self is devoted to her master, she gets to become that true self.  I mean…” she began, convincingly, as if she felt shy about discussing it, lending a charming vulnerability to her speech.  It seemed she was barely able to meet Penny’s eyes but had to steal up to meet with them until Channah’s clear, innocent eyes were Penny’s whole world.  Somehow, at some point, while Penny was being tied in knots by Channah’s entrancing face, her hips had started to move again down below, talking to Penny’s body behind her back and bringing the pain and the aching, aching deep desire back up to the maximum.  “I keep calling you my ‘wife’ and my ‘bride’ and my ‘housegift.’  Could I spell things out any more clearly?”

“What?”  Penny whispered, her mind whispering that she knew, but unable quite to accept it or to put it all together.

Literature Section “06-93 Penny’s Yoga Lesson”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 93 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1254 words—Accompanying Images:  1814-1815—Published 2025-05-17—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

1809 06-92 Channah acts surprised Penny feels violated
1813 06-92 Penance’s Manipura ring (pre-grafting)
1810 06-92 Penny may not be able to sleep tonight
1811 06-92 … Make that a week…
1812 06-92 In fact, Penny may never sleep again…

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah has been passionately and aggressively dominating and making out with Penny, teasing the girl relentlessly.  Now she wants more than Penny’s consent to take advantage of her.  NOW:

“What I want now is your full-fledged participation.  I love you, honey, and I’d really like to fuck you.  But if you’re not ready, that’s okay.  I’m never going to force you again.  Unless you beg first,” she amended flirtatiously.  “If you’re not interested in loving me, I can exclusively take my pleasures elsewhere.”  She shrugged, looking disappointed, and started to lift off Penny, watching curiously at the intense emotions overwhelming the girl, washing and flashing across her eyes.

“NO!  No, no, Domina, I realized—I swore—in that place—I’m yours.  I love you, I’m yours,” she clarified emphatically, reaching to take Channah’s hand urgently, pleadingly, and kiss her knuckles with her eyes closed in passion.  It was the first active motion she had made since being ordered to show passivity towards Channah.

“Aww… that’s sweet,” Channah conceded, meaning it, and settling back down on top of her, their bare flesh sparking with electricity as Channah pretended to rearrange herself, letting them feel one another sliding against each other, separated only by the cruel barrier securing Penny.  She frowned curiously, as if she was confused.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Domina.  Yes, ma’am, I’m sure.  I’m sure!”

“But…” she raised her finger to her chin, looking into space thoughtfully, then sharply looked back down.  She was making fun of Penny, and Penny felt the heat in her face.  “But… I thought you knew what I wanted.”

“I do.  I do, Domina!”

With a twitch of the lip revealing the fun she was having, she leaned down again, resting her elbows on Penny’s shoulders and folding her arms, looking straight down into the submissive girl’s eyes.  “What’s that?” 

“what, Domina?” Penny asked in a small voice.

“It’s not a difficult question, darling girl.  What. Do. I.  Want?  I just want to make sure you understand.  Because this time, it will be about your thorough and enthusiastic participation.”

“My—” Penny’s face went red, her eyes popped, and her voice turned into a squeak.  “What?”

Channah kept her lips pressed together but laughed merrily behind them, in the worst attempt ever to conceal mirth.  Finally she rolled her eyes and gave up, sounding positively delirious.  “Penny, my love, I’ve never seen such a face before!  Regretfully, while I appreciate your efforts, it doesn’t seem like you’re serious about wanting what I want.”

“I am, Domina, I swear!  I want you to get what you want!”

She snorted, turning up her nose.  “Not quite the same thing, is it, muffin?  And certainly not enough for me.  I’m not bargaining with you, I’m explaining how it is.  Drawing a line in the sand.  No more half-measures, sweetie.  No more pretending to be a damsel in distress while I play the bad girl.”  She shrugged, sitting up and rolling Penny’s nipples between her fingers.  “Unless, that is, you’ve already convinced me you really, desperately want me to be your bad girl, and you to be my sweet little damsel in distress.”  Penny drew a sharp breath, as startled as she pretended to be confused and fascinated.  “Well, I love to act and to play games.  You know that.  But with my wife, I want more.  I want to know you’re really with me.  That you like appeasing me.  Is that so unreasonable, for a Domina to want that from her housegift?” she asked, with wide-open innocent eyes.

“No,” Penny croaked, “Of—of course not, Domina.”

She smirked, tickling Penny’s nipples.  “You showed your true colors already, under me in the satanikoklus, didn’t you babygirl?”  She laughed, and laughed even harder at Penny’s mortification to be reminded of how submissive she had been for Channah.  “Look at you.  You’ve been waiting for me your entire life, haven’t you?  While trying to pretend you weren’t.  This time, I won’t shoulder that burden for you.  Playing is one thing.  Hypocrisy and denial are another.  This time, I can’t have either of us experiencing any doubt about whether we’re playing together, as a couple, or if I’m being some… beast,” she pouted, her fingers tracing Penny’s chest.  “I need to know, and even more… you need to know, sugar pie.  Well, to admit it.”  She looked off towards one side, speaking too casually:  “This isn’t just about my insecurity, or a wife making her Domina feel loved, you know.  The magic simply won’t work unless you’re totally sincere.”

“The… magic?”

“In all the excitement and being overwhelmed, you haven’t even noticed it yet, have you, my sweet little cherry?”

“Noticed what?” Penny asked, hoarse again, eyes darting and scanning.  Channah raised a finger and circled it in the air, like a hawk circling and watching for potential prey, the circles getting smaller as she brought it down over Penny’s torso, continuing to tighten in until her finger pressed on Penny’s navel.

“Is your belly-button a little sore, darling?”

“What—yes!  My whole tummy but I thought—” she exclaimed in surprise, raising her head to look down at her stomach, feeling disoriented, almost a touch queasy, at more evidence of how thoroughly she had been separated from her body, from the world, from reality itself.  A tiny ruby fruit, round like an apple, but with distinctive gold prongs ringing one end like a crown, glittered in a gold setting, pinned to her body with two gold piercings, one in the center of her navel, and the other in the flat skin immediately above the edge of her navel.

“The ring—more of a wire, really—stretches down into your tummy and anchors it around your intestines and spine.”  Penny gasped in a fascinated horror at the idea, and at the idea of the ring penetrating her—if it had even been her, when she was, well, gone.  Horrified at being penetrated at all, freaked out about the penetration being so deep, and especially feeling uneasy that such a thing could have occurred without her knowledge.  “Anchoring it to your spirit there.”

“What—what is it, Domina?” Penny asked fearfully.

“It’s your Manipura ring.  Of course,” she shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Stuffy old swamis and yogis would quibble with our understanding and usage of the chakras and related concepts.  But how would any of them know more than us about succubaean magic?  Or where to seize and pin down parts of the souls of humans?”  The answer—to Channah, but certainly not Penny, who had no idea what she was talking about—was obvious:  “They wouldn’t.  Do you recognize it?” she asked curiously, with a mischievous smirk.

Penny, staring at it, made the connection and recognized it.  “It’s—it’s the same thing, the fruit, on the paddle—a medlar!”

“Very good, child!  But describe it accurately.  My paddle, acknowledging my ownership,” she corrected.  “Or recognizing your chattel status, your paddle.  Either one is acceptable, but not merely ‘the’ paddle.”

“Your paddle, Domina,” Penny corrected herself, red-faced.

Literature Section “06-92 Channah Demands More Penance”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 92 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1154 words—Accompanying Images:  1809-1813—Published 2025-05-16—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

1806 06-91 I’m NOT ignoring your misery.  I fucking love it!
1807 06-91 Make that sad face and noise again for me, bitch!
1808 06-91 Why torture YOURSELF?  That’s MY job

Explicit version containing masturbation, chastity, and orgasm themes at 06-91 Penance Yields at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah is passionately and aggressively dominating and making out with Penny.  NOW:

The weaker girl was going nowhere without Channah’s permission, her body overwhelmed almost as fully as her mind, neither of them capable of offering Channah anything resembling resistance—only compliance and cooperation.

“Mm…”. Channah slid her lips across Penny’s cheek and growled in her ear, “Feel how desperate you are.  You’re a bit of a slut, aren’t you?”

“Oh yes.  Yes I am, Master!  Domina!”  Penny cried, and then almost screamed:  “Please free me Mistress, I can’t stand it!”

She just giggled, her hips moving faster and faster while Penny remained frustrated.  If it had been an ordinary item of such elaborate jewelry, she couldn’t possibly have used it this way.  Even the finest jeweler in the world could hardly smooth every edge and facet of each stone and the gold metal joining them, perfectly enough to feel this good.  But her metalsmith was so connected with her media she might have done, even without the thin layer of clear ceramic or glass she had used to finish the piece, making it a smooth and perfect whole instead of multiple different components held together with settings and cement.

“Who do you belong to?”  Channah demanded bitchily, smirking.

“Yours!  Of course, yours, Domina! Ha-ha-haaugh!”  the last of it was not laughter, but something much closer to a desperate crying that made Channah even hotter. 

“I’m sorry, what were you asking me about?  I can’t remember,” Channah’s lips tightened and struggled to remain sealed over Penny’s when she was smiling this widely, but Penny didn’t seem to mind any more than her Domina, who was moving at a jackhammer pace, a low animal sound beginning in the back of her throat.

“PLEASE let me out, Domina!” Penny wailed around Channah’s lips when Channah darted her head down to nip her ear. 

“nehhh-verrr,” she whispered softly in the same ear, pushing down on the girl’s pinned wrists to reinforce her control, barely able to speak between her own moans.  And then:  “Suffer for me, bitch!”

“I am!” Penny screamed, and Channah roared, as Channah’s hips and body shifted from a piston motion to a pure shudder that gripped her from head to toe.

“Oh, Domina, oh, Mistress, no, it’s not fair!  It’s not fair!”  Penny howled, making a broken pouting sound, as Channah gasped and cried out with her slow, shuddering return, enjoying every lingering moment, just as she was enjoying squeezing every drop of sadistic joy from Penny’s protests and whines and unavailing struggles under her for relief.

“No—no, it’s not, is it?”  Channah laughed throatily, shoving her tongue hard down Penny’s throat and holding it, even as she straightened all her limbs out to the four corners around them and lay on Penny as her final shivers subsided, ignoring or perhaps enjoying Penny’s miserable sounds, and restless movements of discomfort.

When Channah was finally still, and not only the shivering, but the tingling sensation singing in every one of her nerve ends finally started to calm, she rested her hands on Penny’s forehead and lay her cheek on top of them, to relax.

“No-ho-ho-ho-ho….”  Penny moaned, quiet in her misery so as not to disturb Channah’s relaxation.

Finally, Channah sighed.  “What a good, passive, respectful mattress you make, Penny dear.”  Drawing languidly back and resting her elbows on Penny’s chest, feeling very satisfied and calm, while Penny’s body was still rigid and singing with both desire and pain, she crossed her upper arms and looked down into Penny’s eyes, eating up her compliant, accepting misery.  She practically purred, as she wiggled her hips again, just enough to let Penny know she was thinking about the girl’s unhappiness.  “What?” she asked playfully.

“Oh…”. Penny groaned, rolling her eyes.

“I asked you a question, bitch.”

Penny looked surprised.  “You know my—my—” she struggled for a word.

“My little girl,” she proposed.

“Yes, Domina.  Your little girl… You make me sooo hot, Domina, you’re so hot and—and the way you move…”

“How I move?” she prompted, wiggling her hips again for a moment.

“You’re so—lithe, so serpentine…”

“Oh, hush,” she rested one finger across Penny’s lips, just enjoying pushing her buttons and pushing her around, like a cat playing with a toy, or perhaps a victim.  “You don’t have anything useful to say.  Serpentine?  Darling, have you forgotten what I’m capable of?  Am I not a serpent when I want to be?  What I did had nothing to do with my serpentine side.” 

Then she frowned down at her girl, grasping and squeezing her cheeks, unnecessarily hard, not really to control her head, but simply to get her attention.  To bring her eyes, which were rolling and wandering practically independently of one another, back into focus attentively on her master.

“You know what I want.  You’ve known it for days.  And I already told you that’s how you could get what you want, just like Chas.”

Penny started nodding, in fear, yes, but for the first time, something more than fear—a desire for closeness, perhaps, or simply to obey and to avoid disappointing her hell-goddess—competing with it in her eyes.  When she spoke, it was in a small, uncertain voice:  “I—I will submit to you, Domina, you know I will.  Please, Domina, do what you want to do.  Take what you want from me.  Please, Domina.”

“Hunh-unh,” Channah shook her head, smiling smugly.  “I’ve already done that.  We’ve already established I can take what I want, anytime I want, haven’t we?” she asked, sniggering when she felt Penny move under her.   “Answer me,” she slapped Penny’s cheek lightly.

“Yes, Domina,” she answered, nodding sheepishly.

“And I can intimidate and bully you into doing what I want, even when you hate the idea, can’t I?”

“Yes, Domina,” she whispered. “That’s pathetic,” Channah shook her head, her smirk of contempt and satisfaction almost becoming a sneer again.

Literature Section “06-91[X] Penance Yields”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 91 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 979 words::Explicit 1086 words—Accompanying Images:  1806-1808—Published 2025-05-15—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Domina.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Literature Section “06-90[X] Tongue-Tied Penance”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 90 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1081 words::Explicit 1144 words—Accompanying Images:  1803-1805—Published 2025-05-12—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

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

Literature Section “06-89 Mothers’ Day (Southern Style)”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—21 words—Accompanying Images:  1739, 1741-1742, 1744-1750, 1754-1762, 1764-1773, 1791-1798, 1740, 1743, 1763—Published 2025-05-11 to 05-17—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.