2100 07-18 You’re BORING me, Mary confessed2101 07-18 I know YOU’RE happy, but big changes are coming, old man2102 07-18 I wonder if he’ll like my boot as much up his old farthole2103 07-18 We’ll see if you’re still so jolly over my knee2104 07-18 I need to FIND your miniscule dick so I can KICK your miniscule dick2105 07-18 ALWAYS use gloves! You’re unworthy to TOUCH me pig!2106 07-18 You ARE sorry but you WILL BE sorrier for glaring, diaper boy!2107 07-18 Stand just like that. This is for glaring at me!2108 07-18 Oh, does it hurt? Serves you right!2109 07-18 Now go make a fool of yourself in front of those girls, for my amusement2110 07-18 Who’s this old fool stickin’ ‘is tongue an’ ‘is crotch out, then?2111 07-18 I fink ‘ees a rite nasty old pervert!2112 07-18 I say we kick ‘im rite innis yarbles! If ‘ee’s GOT any yarbles2113 07-18 Get away from us, you ridiculous pathetic old man!2114 07-18 Awwww…. Did that ‘urt a bit, you sad old git?2115 07-18 You you look a rite FRIGHT, sir!2116 07-18 We fink you better do exactly what we say if you value your bollocks!2117 07-18 Crawl, sissy! Crawl for your life!2118 07-18 Now slither and hiss for us like a snake!2119 07-18. I know! Let’s kick ‘is arse!2120 07-18 Oh! ‘ee’s running away! High-kick-five!2121 07-18 What did you expect, you filthy old pervert?2122 07-18 Oh, would you like another one? Is that it? I love this game!
Writing: My goal of writing 1,000 words per day will not change and you can expect to continue to see the same volume of work overall.
Publishing: However, instead of trying to publish 1,000 words per day with illustrations, after the 29th I will publish work on a scene-by-scene basis. Thus: If a scene is less than 1,000 words, I will publish it that day and start writing the next scene. If a scene is more than 1,000 words I will keep writing until the scene is done and publish it as a complete story. For example, if it is a 4,000-word scene, there would be 3 days without a publication followed by a 4,000-page story on the 4th day. If a scene is extremely long, I may break it up into parts.
Illustrations: I will publish illustrations of scenes at the same time the scenes are published; and I will continue to publish standalone illustrations as the spirit moves me.
I think this will allow me to improve writing quality; I hope the change is not disruptive to you, my dear readers; but please, as always, let me know your thoughts.
1951 06-122 Lead us into temptation1952 06-122 Deliver us unto evil1953 06-122 Thy will be done1954 06-122 Thy Kingdom Come1955 06-122 On Earth as it is in Hell
Explicit version containing masturbation, orgasm, cunnilingus, and consensualnonconsent themes at 06-122[X] Arousing a Succubus at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman
PREVIOUSLY: Chastity and Penance, naked, vulnerable, and bound, completely traumatized by their recent, total sensory isolation, have been led by Channah into a place of darkness silence and sterility. They plead with her not to leave them here while she runs a quick errand. NOW:
She whispered, her voice cracking with emotion: “First you want me and love me. Then you frustrate me and try to thwart my plans… and now you show pathetic need and fear? To me?! The Queen of the Succubae?” She asked incredulously, shuddering and closing her eyes, feeling their fear spike to panic. “Ooohhh…” she hissed slowly, pressing her hands between her legs. “You poor girls are terrified… of me, and of losing me. All at once! While I’m still mad at you! Ungh!”
She opened her eyes, staring deeply into theirs. “You girls are perfect! Thank you, you silly cows!” And as she felt their hopes start to rise: “All you had to do was behave like men, just a little bit! Show some courage! Show some independence! But no… you’re just teases! I’m gonna mess you girls up so hard you’re going to learn to lose control from fear and arousal at the same time.” Then she laughed, shaking as their hopes crashed back into confusion about what they had done, and terror of what she might do to them… outweighed only by their desperation for her to stay with them in the Honeycomb and protect them. “You two are quite mad, to tease and enrage a succubus that way. When are you going to learn your lessons?” She shook her head, incredulously. “My lessons, that you waste!”
Pulling something small from her pocket, she approached Chastity, staring down at her, ignoring their blubbering, confused, frightened questions—well, not the emotion of them, that she lapped up. Only the content. Then Channah stepped over the beam on the floor, to which Chastity was tied, one high-heeled boot and then the other, delicately and sluttily at once; before dropping to sit on the bar, her crotch right in Chastity’s face, locked in front of her by the ring fastened to Chas’s collar.
“Bitches! SILENCE!” she commanded, her thunderous voice swatting theirs down to muteness as quickly and effectively as a professional boxer might put an elementary-school thumb-wrestler in his place with a knockout punch. “You’ve only got yourselves to blame for your current predicament, after all. Don’t come whining to me now! I’m dying to start our honeymoon… it’s all I’m thinking of! Can you imagine what it’s like to be a Queen, with so many responsibilities, everybody’s boss, always being expected to have all the answers and make all the right decisions, and take care of all the little weaklings around her, all the time? ALL I’ve been fantasizing about since our wedding is our seclusion, away from the world, away from other people, away from any chance of risk or harm, where I don’t have to teach you and guide you and correct you and monitor you and discipline you, only love you and be loved! I would have thought you’d want that too! Instead of just…” she threw her hands up in frustration: “Prolonging this whole affair by forcing me to interrupt my work—again! And delay our special time of safety and love together—again! Just so that I can punish you… that’s right, you guessed it, AGAIN!” By now she sounded furious, almost on the verge of tears: “You’re so selfish and thoughtless!”
And the second both girls started frantically trying to apologize and plead she raised one insistent hand, instantly cowing them back into scared silence. “Are you girls scared of this place?” She asked, lip rolling in an exaggerated pout. “What’s that?” she asked their silence. “Yes or no. Are my widdle babies scared for mommy to leave them alone in the dark?”
“Yes, Domina!” they admitted reluctantly. “At least,” Penny tried to explain, “I’d like to get used to it, or… have a little more time after the—you know…” While Chas burst out: “Please stay with us!”
“Awww…. So sweet. I can’t even stay mad at you. I have an idea so Mommy can take care of you, while Mommy’s also doing all the work, and taking all the efforts. As usual! I have just the thing to protect you from your fears about this sacred place. Mommy will make it all go away. I brought these just in case you girls might want them.” She placed her hands over Chastity’s ears, and with a final, contemptuous twitch of a smile, pressed the magical earplugs into her girl’s ear canals.
Chastity cried out.
It was the kind of cry actors practiced for years, hoping for their chance to use it in a reputation-making dramatic scene. And Channah howled back like a rabid wolf, throwing her soggy dress over Chas’s head and grabbing her hair, crying and cursing and nearly barking with passion as she did. “You’re the Jezebels!” she whimpered, then shivered as Chastity’s screams fell into wracking sobs and pleas.
Right then. That was it.
Channah managed it again, only a little one, but the kind that’s so intense it’s nearly unbearable because you’ve already come so many times your body is raw and primed for it.
Chastity was still sobbing when Channah finally shook her head to gather her thoughts, stood, and stepped over Chastity, and then Penny, standing over her back facing the cube and drinking in her big-word, long-winded apologies and pleas.
Her high heels brought her ankles up to a height equal with Penny’s temples, and she rose on the toes of her boots to slam her ankles into the girl to get her attention and silence her. “I want to discuss this persistent problem further tomorrow, and during the coming week. I do want to take care of you girls, but I also have many responsibilities as the Queen and I can’t spend all of my time coddling and protecting you! I have to take care of everybody else, too! I was hoping you girls, with your free time and leisured aristocratic lives, could help me! You’re my wives! Don’t you want to be sweet to me the way I want to be to you?!”
“Yes! I promise you we do! We’re most sincere, our beloved Domina! I’m sorry!” Penny wailed ashamedly; almost histrionically. “We didn’t mean to interrupt you, Domina.”
“Hush! What did I just say?!” she spoke, crossly, catching Penny off guard and watching how she flinched as if she had physically hit them, looking hurt but also guilty about upsetting her. And… she smelled it like a drug, another hit of the addictive whisper of fearlovearousal: uncertainty, and worry, about what punishment she might inflict on them if she fancied it; but also, even stronger, about how much she wanted to please Chastity, and how miserable she felt that she was failing in that.
“Put your lips to work. Your sisterwife has already taken care of my orchid, but you can kiss my boots, baby.”
“Thank you, Domina,” she gushed, seizing it as an opportunity to show her apology and regret again, lips and tongue slobbering on the dirty toes of Channah’s boots.
“Such a good girl when she wants to be,” Channah said significantly.
And the last thing Penny heard as the earplugs entered her ear canals, before real and pervasive darkness, the complete, oppressive silence of death, and the utter loss of even the opium smell of her Mistress and the dusty flavor of her boots, settled over her… was the sound of her own weak, scared, desperate pleas.
1681 06-80 Perpetua and Felicity bring down the Colosseum1682 06-80 Joyous Martyrs or Perverted Servants of Hell?1683 06-80 With the fierce passion of St. Perpetua1684 06-80 Gladiatrix and Martyr
Explicit version containing masturbation, orgasm, asphyxiation themes at 06-80X The Splaying of Chastity] at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman
PREVIOUSLY: Penny’s and Chas’s wrists are restrained. They have been completely deprived of vision, hearing, smell, and taste, before being spun until losing their balance and sense of direction and falling onto the hard stone platform. NOW:
Chastity lay on the stone, breath quick, heart beating rapidly, every fiber of her being focused on her periphery. Like a bullseye lantern sweeping across a dark room, she scanned her own skin, from cute blonde locks to painted little toes, waiting for first contact: anywhere, anything, stimulation, a signal that it was starting, and the first hint of what it might be.
She could not see. She could not hear. She could not smell. And for good measure, she could not even taste. They had taken everything external away from her except the warm stone beneath her and the hot, moist, still air around her; the air that pelted every inch of exposed skin with specks of sand every moment without the air itself joining. That was her entire world.
There was fear; but her elevated pulse wasn’t entirely about fear. She remained buoyed by the boundless, youthful expectation that what was coming would be better than before.
She had fallen on her back, shoulders and head raised on her elbows, legs spread wide, and she hadn’t bothered to think about her modesty.
When the first touch came, it was a soft kick to her side. When that produced no response, it was followed by a harder and more insistent kick, immediately repeated, prompting Chas to struggle to roll herself over onto her front. Next was a kick to the bottom of her shoe, repeated again until she moved it, bending her knee and then in response to a blow to the other sole, moving her other knee. The kicks were repeated until she lay on her knees and her shoulders, one cheek pressed against the stone, like a frog with its arms tied behind its back.
Someone lifted the back of Chas’s gown, pulling it up like a curtain until the entire dress, causing Chas a quick shiver. She next felt the boots that had been kicking her sliding up the outsides of her calves, before being withdrawn. A moment later they returned, this time between her legs, nudging her insistently to force her legs apart, the woman’s—she assumed it was one of the women—standing behind her, legs pressed against her hips.
The woman did something with Chas’s chemise, the light linen smock under her dress—Chas couldn’t quite tell what, because it was such a light garment and only one among the many she wore.
The next thing she felt were fingers, insistent fingers, tugging fabrics around her sacrum and yanking them down around her knees. Chas groaned, startled again by how much weaker and deeper her own voice sounded when every noise outside her body was taken from her absolutely. She felt fabric being stuffed between her panty strings and her hips, before being used to tug her panties down.
Then the hands were gone, abandoning her back to her isolation, causing Chas to croak out a useless, drawn-out sound of protest. How long would she be left here this time? An hour? Or only—
—a moment. She was kicked in the side again and obediently rolled back over onto her back, like a dog being trained in the kennels.
Lying flat on her back hurt her arms and with a nervous swallow, she worked her elbows up towards her shoulders with difficulty, raising her shoulders again.
Hands finished removing her unnecessaries.
The she felt boots between her legs again, pressing.
Chastity grinned, her skin tingling with anticipation…
Nothing.
Nothing happened. Her smile faltered, and blurred into confusion and disappointment.
They’d left her! For the first time she thought of Penny, her friend—and felt a stab of jealousy. Were they turning their attention to her now?
Don’t ignore me! Her mind hollered uselessly, so thoroughly separated from the world around her it could only express its longing with a rather desperate-sounding and ambivalent grunt of protest.
Finally it came, a testing of how easily he moved from side to side, to confirm what the carelessly-named Chastity already knew. She felt her lips tightening again, in another pleased, only-slightly-guilty smile.
The hand withdrew and Chas moaned in disappointment. Then gasped when two hands returned, tentative hands, not assured ones like the first. These made no contact whatsoever with her skin; they were hyper-careful. Chas felt no warm palm resting on her leg, no stray fingertips brushing the pulpy flesh at her base; only its housing being shifted, first to one side tentatively, then a second time, decisively, straight downwards, making her moan breathily. Chas gasped as she dared to hope she knew what it portended…
Small movements around the place where the parts of her Svadhisthana device met. Yesssss! Chas sighed raggedly with relief and breathed even faster, panting, rolling her hips in silent entreaty for more attention, waiting to feel more aggressive hands…
Where were they? She moued, only half-hearing the sound herself, the part inside her head, nothing after it left her body. She brought her knees together and up to her chest, frantically moving them, breathing harder, unsure if she could even press hard enough. Any second, she expected hands to stop her movement, prevent her from continuing; and when they didn’t come, she began hoping she could make it—
—she finished! She just barely managed to, enough for relief but not satisfaction. She longed for the velvet glove of a woman holding him the way he was meant to be.
She could hardly remember the last time she had been left in such a place of gratitude and dissatisfaction. Even as she felt the comfort of the afterglow, if she could have cried out properly, she would have remonstrated with fate and demanded a do-over! She wanted more…
