PREVIOUSLY: Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise. After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah angrily and rigorously punished, tested, and bedded her girls before being appeased and sending the girls to do chores while she worked. The girls have just finished their chores, bathed, and are ready to let her know that dinner is ready. NOW:
Chastity and Penance remained naked except for the marks and tack Channah had imposed upon them. For marks, both girls’ hindquarters were fading from bright red towards a fierce brownish-purple; and Chastity’s torso, upper arms, and upper legs, especially, were heavily scratched, abraded, and sensitized, covered with faint but vivid red marks. For tack, both girls wore their Chakra Reins—collars, piercings, cages, twisters, and triggers—inside and outside their bodies; wrist cuffs; ankle cuffs; and the hobbling chains that limited their strides significantly and their hands even more.
In the hall outside her command room, the girls fell to their knees and crawled forward to two of the four supplicant positions shown on the floor. Each supplicant position was marked with five tiles. Four obrounds were positioned along the sides of an imaginary diamond shape on the floor—two smaller obrounds approximating the width and length of lower arms from elbows to wrists; and two larger obrounds approximating the width and length of lower legs from knees to ankles—with a round stone positioned between the two arm stones along the centerline of the imaginary diamond. The obrounds were spaced widely enough to force a tall man to stretch uncomfortably to cover them. Smaller gurls like Chastity and Penny could not possibly reach them, but forced their knees and elbows apart, and their hips and shoulders and foreheads down, as far as they could manage, hoping their efforts would be sufficient to avoid punishment. They looked like frazzled frogs who had been pinned down and pushed to the ground by giant boots. But in fact they were exhausted, shaken slavegurls who had each been accused of defiance, badgered, shouted at, corrected, spanked, terrified, and stomped on by their angry Mistress, until she had reduced them to the quivering puddles of submissive flesh they resembled now; and who had been harangued and kicked the first time they reported to her here, to teach them how she wanted them to enter in the future, while their Domina’s more-important visitors laughed at them.
They waited, disregarded supplicants, quietly and unobtrusively, where and as they had been trained, on the cool hard floor, for the attentions of their Domina, while she met with people who were much more important and higher-ranked than them: her vassals the succubae and incubi, her officers and officials in Hell, her qahramanat, and her mamalik. Here, in her office, or command room, Domina and her wives were outside the bubble of their marriage, where their Domina had made it clear she expected her inferior morganatic wives to behave appropriately for their station, that of sub-humble jawari. Needless to say, none of her visitors were jawari; because she would have no truck with the likes of them outside of their assignments and services. They certainly had no role in administering her Court or her Empire!
Because they entered on hands and knees with their heads bowed subserviently, the tiles on the floor near them were all they could see until she summoned them forward and gave them permission to rise. But from their earlier entries, they knew that like most of her home, the throne room was open to the outside, made with the same colorful carved stone as the rest of it, facing a formal pool in the central part of her garden, although the furniture and working parts of the room were set well back from the edge of the roof to protect them from wind-driven rains.
Channah herself sat comfortably on her throne, an ornate gold affair decorated with the same strange figures and motifs, in the same strange style, as the stones of her house and the gold of her bed and her smaller, simpler bedroom throne. This one, a formal throne of state, sat on a dais rising two feet above the surrounding floor, was flanked with side-tables, was wide as a love seat (allowing her to sit up or lounge to the side as she preferred while conducting her business) and rose in the back to an impressive height—a true throne of command, suitable for the conduct of official business from her mountain retreat. She was regally clad, in keeping with her throne, in formal robes of state to conduct her business: a high-necked floor-length scarlet brocade gown embroidered with golden serpents and medlar fruits, a pair of tall shiny black boots, and a tall, viciously spiked crown of gold decorated with rubies. And she would either be holding, or nestled beside, her onyx scepter, a heavy hexagonal rod topped with a human skull.
All of her visitors appeared before her throne, inside a large and complex magic circle mosaic. The dominant shapes were an outer circle perhaps four yards in diameter, circumscribing a pentagon, circumscribing an inner circle closer to three yards in diameter, circumscribing a pentagram. The circles, pentagon, and pentagram were made of a hard, shiny white grout forming ridges rising an inch or two above the tiles, contrasting with the level greenish-gray grout used everywhere else within the house. And each of the 21 oversized tiles within the larger circle were inscribed in silver. The centermost stone, the focal point of the pentagram, was the most elaborate by far: marked with a serpent wrapped around and riddling through a rotten medlar in the shape of a broken heart. Each of the other tiles was inlaid with an astrological symbol, or a more-arcane symbol of some kind Penny could not identify.
Everything about the circle set the girls’ hair on end and their spines tingling. Despite the care and artful grace with which it had been designed, its evil pattern was irreducibly sinister and jarring. And it generated a palpable energy field the girls could feel when they knelt in their supplicant positions, even though those were several feet outside the circle. There was something magnetic or electric, something warping, that came off the circle in malevolent waves.
The Queen’s visitors came from nowhere and disappeared to nowhere. They were incorporeal—ghosts, the girls had thought in terror at first, until Penny, staring down at the floor below her in wide-eyed terror, had recognized Kadidia’s voice during her previous visit and deduced that they were not spirits. Or at least, not standalone spirits; but perhaps, spirits of her vassals summoned to her in the circle for her to address, before being released by her and allowed to return to themselves.
Finishing with one vassal, a succubus by the conversation, she dismissed them as the girls had heard her do other visitors earlier in the day, with a double clap of her hands and the command: “atrudha!” (Arabic for “Dismiss her!”).
This time, however, unlike the previous occasions on which they had awaited her pleasure, when she had summoned them forward to order them to perform new chores, this time she continued to ignore them. Instead, to the girls’ mortification, she clapped her hands once and called: “min kambiridj-‘arni rujar!” (“from Cambridge—show me Roger!”); “min Sademtsaowah-‘arni ‘iismiri!” (“from Sademtsaowah—show me Esmeray!”); “min tshanghan-‘arni Kai!” (“from Chang’an—show me Kai!”). Things went from bad to worse—from the girls’ perspective—when they recognized not only Roger’s and Esmeray’s voices, but those of Cutter and Martin as well. The Queen’s entire conversation with the visitors was conducted in Arabic, which still seemed unusual to Chas and Penny, who still expected their bullies, their qahramanah, and Channah, to speak English by default.
“Your Majesty!” the five voices chorused, presumably while bowing and curtsying deeply.
“My qahrahamanah. My mamalik. You may rise. Attend to me! Roger, have you found Frances?” The girls, whose thoughts so far had primarily been hoping none of their English bullies would notice or recognize them, knew Frances well. She was another English jawari, only 2 or 3 years older than Chas; and they were startled to hear that she was missing. But they dared not raise their heads or react in any other way.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Roger answered. “Mistress Rivqah scried her position and we deduced she was trying to reach her mother’s house. We intercepted her there yesterday, before she could make contact with any of her family.”
“Where is she now?”
Roger, Cutter, and Martin guffawed nastily. “You asked us to make an example of her, Your Majesty, so we dropped her in the servants’ cesspit.”
“I commend your enthusiasm, boys, but can we be sure she hasn’t drowned? We do actually need her.”
“We tested the depth with a rod and there’s only three or four feet of muck down there. We tied her to a rope just long enough to let her drop in chest-high.” He snickered. “Although we may have given her the impression, ah, she would be left to dehydrate and drown down there.” Cutter and Martin snorted derisively.
“As much as I like the idea of leaving her there a few more days, I think her time—and Eleanor’s—would be better spent training with Esmeray before the ritual. And further punishment is always available in, you know, Hell,” Channah snickered. “No risk of her avoiding what she deserves there. So tomorrow, pull her out, make Eleanor help her clean off. And I mean, clean, clean, clean, first in the creek and then when she can be allowed in the servants’ area, in a barrel of warm soapy water. I won’t have her stinking up my bath at Fensmere, let alone my domain, with the filth of Earth!”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the boys agreed.
“I want you waiting with her and with Eleanor in the Satanikoklus at noon sharp. I want both of them hogtied for transport.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
“Kai, inform the duty Timorite at Chang’an that I want her to pick the jawari up from the Satanikoklus and deliver them through the Honeycomb to Esmeray at Sademtsaowah. Esmeray, inform the duty Timorite at Sademtsaowah to expect the girls tomorrow afternoon.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Esmeray responded. “Will—if I may ask—Will Penny and Chas be returned to me before the next ritual so that we can try full rehearsals? Or should I prepare for deeper training with just Eleanor and Frances?”
Something about her manner or gestures, or those of Channah, must have pointed out the girls kneeling on the floor within the visitors’ field of view, because Roger gasped and then burst out laughing. “Wait—no. That’s impossible. Those cannot be our Penny and Chas!”
“They are indeed,” Channah laughed, as the girls’ bullies made sounds of incredulity and astonishment. “Girls, get up on your knees and grab your new boobies for your boys!”
Scarlet and practically dying inside, but in no way willing to risk angering Channah, and mindful of her command to be enthusiastic little sluts for her, both girls rose up, sitting back on their haunches with their knees still spread. Chastity, excited even as she was nervous, artfully emphasized her breasts, pushing them up while she grabbed them at the base. Penny, self-consciously, put her hands modestly over her breasts.
“Princess! I didn’t tell you to cover your tits modestly!” Channah laughed even harder. “I said ‘grab’! As in, show off! Put your hands under your breasts, cup them and squeeze them to make them stretch and swell and stick out further! Go on, no place for reticence when you’re a whore!”
The ashamed girl did as she commanded, to a chorus of rude whoops and catcalls from their bullies and Kai. Channah noticed with satisfaction that Esmeray was able to watch neutrally, only the way she shifted uncomfortably betraying her ambivalence about what she was witnessing.
“Now turn around, away from the boys, spread your knees, put your shoulders down on the ground, and jiggle those big round beautiful bottoms and hot pussies for your mamalik!”
Penny and Chas, whimpering and moaning with embarrassment and fear (and for Chas, just a little bit of defiant excitement) obeyed, setting off another round of even more enthusiastic responses.
“You’ve been training them hard, Your Majesty,” Cutter gushed. “Their asses are so beautiful and bruised….”
“I have, and they are,” Channah agreed flirtatiously.
“And they’re obedient as hell,” Roger growled. “Damn, I mean, Your Majesty, I don’t suppose your offer to fuck them is still open, now that they’re real girls?”
Penny couldn’t help herself: she raised her head to see her Domina, who was looking sly and thoughtful. Desperately she shook her head and whispered under her breath pleading with her Domina—more like, willing her Domina without the courage to ask her—to say no.
Channah shook her finger slowly and sexily in a “no” signal to Penny and smiled evilly, looking Penny straight in the eye and seeing her swallow nervously, before she looked back up at her vistors and asked: “Are you sure? I thought you were too much of a ‘man’ to fuck my little girls.”
“Well—that’s when they were fake girls, Your Majesty. I apologize—I meant no disrespect. To you. No disrespect to you. Sissy boys in dresses. But now… heaven above, they’re completely female. In every respect!”
“Their minds are unchanged. Their souls…”
Roger made a dismissive noise. “I’m not planning to take their souls, Your Majesty. Those are irrelevant. I want to possess their new bodies.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Channah agreed snarkily, as her bullies laughed. “What are you working on right now?”
“We’re learning, Your Majesty, as you commanded, as much as we can about how the manor operates, so we can help you manage it. But we don’t actually have any duty assignments right now.”
“Continue learning until you leave, and don’t breathe a word of any of my plans. When we return to Fensmere next week, Roger, I will make you my Castellan. Cutter will be in charge of the mansion and its staff, and Martin the head of the field staff. Don’t let those titles go to your heads, boys—I’m not picking you because any of you have a reputation for effective management or work habits or dutifulness even good sense.” She laughed shortly and deliberately insultingly. “Don’t interfere in the actual running of anything—leave that to the Butler, the Housemaid, and the other senior staff. You’re to be in charge of…” She rolled the last word around in her mouth, savoring it: “Discipline.”
“Oh, yes,” the three bullies laughed, sounding as if they were hugging and clapping one another on the shoulders in celebration.
“You can use your positions to get revenge on everyone who mistreated you in the past, but only in the context of your duties. Believe me—you’ll find more pleasure in their fear, awaiting your vindictiveness—than tearing up my household immediately. And my household must run well. A scared and miserable staff is fine—delightful, really—but the laundry must be cleaned properly, the house must be kept dusted and polished, the food must remain delicious and interesting, the servers polite—in short, the Sun itself must continue to shine out of my ass over that house, so that my life is as convenient and pleasant as possible, and my guests, from the lowliest deliveryman to the King himself, continue to be awed and amazed by the splendor of my mansion. Do you understand?!”
“Yes, Domina,” they agreed, sounding more muted.
“The reason I want you in charge is for operational security, not the actual operation of the household itself. I’m giving you the three highest positions in the house—after my Governess, Sindonie, who will remain in charge of the noble children, as you can imagine—so you can enforce discipline and security on the household, or at least, all of the commoners within it. Without ever telling anyone there are new rules, or explaining them out loud, you will build and enforce a new regime at Fensmere. A culture of obedience to me, and silence about my business. I’m already aware there are the vaguest rumors circulating out in Cambridgeshire, and perhaps even further afield, about… changes people have noticed to the household. Even questions about me. Well, we’re going to stop that process when you return, so that my Sipahi ranging the countryside can continue to stoke the rumors of demons abroad in the countryside. Your duties for capturing and disciplining escapees will expand from my slaves to include the entire staff and population of the manor and the village. Once someone joins the manor or the village, they will remain there until they are buried, unless they receive my leave to depart. Only trusted staff will be allowed off the premises at all; and then they will be sent in groups. Staff and their families will not share any of the business of the manor, or the village, with visitors or tradesmen, beyond the minimum necessary to accomplish their business. And, most importantly, when the King arrives, our staff will have no doubt about where their loyalties need to lie. I will instruct my tailor in Sademtsaowah to help you dress appropriately for your work.”
Then, changing tone: “Esmeray, as I’m sure you’ve gathered, training Eleanor—and especially Frances—will be different than training these sweet, compliant girls.”
“Yes, Domina. Although I’m surprised… as more-experienced jawari, I thought they would be fully-broken.”
“Oh,” Channah waved her hand dismissively. “In many ways, they are. But they were always trained differently than my two girls. Or, more precisely, my two girls were always trained differently than any of the other jawari. In this generation, anyway. That’s why I wanted you to meet and work and play with them first, so you would see them for who they are, not lump them in with the other rabble.” She laughed sharply, and not entirely nicely. “Boys—I need you to pay attention to me, not my little sluts’ bottoms. Girls—” she bent forward, addressing them, “—Keep your knees on the floor but rest your arms on my dais, straight out in front of you like you’re holding on for dear life, and worship my boots with your tongues and lips!”
“Yes, Domina,” they hurried to obey, seeming to make Channah gasp with excitement at the sight of their distressed, worried, sorrowful faces… and to compel her to ram the toes, and occasionally the heels, of her boots harder into their vulnerable mouths while she continued her conversation with her visitors.
“Why don’t you boys come through to Sademtsaowah with your prisoners tomorrow, to provide security for Eleanor and Frances while Esmeray begins their training. They’ll be kept in the kennels at night; but whenever they’re not locked in the kennels, you’re to monitor and contain them so they can’t get away from Eleanor. Don’t help Eleanor train them unless she asks—it’s her job to be their qahramanah, not yours—but do be of assistance to her however she asks in handling or training her charges. Kai, please find quarters for them near Esmeray. And then…” she shrugged, visibly delighted that she was able to tease at least three boys and two girls with diametrically-opposed desires, with a single taunt. She shrugged. “Depending on how well-behaved my girls have been, and how helpful you’ve been…. we’ll see about introducing my three bully-boys more… intimately to my new girls.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!” the three Englishmen laughed celebratorily, even as Penny and Chas, too stunned to even take it all in, buried their heads in their hands, making little sobbing-whining noises too primitive and instinctual to have a name. “Oh! And, ah…. One of you let Big George know I want him to come along with you. My Castellan has a couple of projects requiring his expertise. Is there anything else?” she asked, giving them a moment before continuing. “Then carry on with your assignments.”
“Yes, thank you, Your Majesty!” they responded.
Channah clapped twice: “aitrudhum!” (“Dismiss them!”) and the light in the room changed slightly. Whether it was darker, or the quality of the light had changed when the sterile bluish ghosts had disappeared, leaving the warmer, yellower, indirect Sunlight from the garden alone to illuminate the room, neither girl could tell for certain from her perspective hanging at Channahs’s feet. Leaning forward, knowing she had their full attention, Channah purred. “You girls look so cute and sweet and submissive, sucking my boot tips and heels and looking up at me so sadly and pleadingly. Ha!” she clapped and shook herself with delight. “I think you both know you’re going to have to be very good—practically perfect—if you want to avoid the attentions of Roger and his bully-boys entirely, don’t you? So better suck up your very hardest! And at this moment, I mean that very literally! Open your little pieholes wider, go on, wider, streeeettttcch those lips out and push your faces as far forward as you can on the tips of my boots. Oh, come on… you especially, Penny, with your well-known big mouth! I want to see you swallow half of that boot. I want to hear you—yes! Woo-hoo!” She clapped with glee as Penny—looking like a fish with its mouth stretched by hooks—started to make gargling and gagging sounds as the toe of Channah’s boot started tickling the back of her throat. “PUSH, BITCH, PUSH!” Screaming as loudly as she could at Penny while leaning as close down towards her foot as she could, she fairly seethed with joy as Penny’s face turned red and her throat and mouth began involuntarily contracting in an instinctive attempt to clear her throat.
Resting her chin on her fists, Channah enjoyed watching the girls suffering and debasing themselves to please her for what seemed forever, before her smile grew even wider and slyer. “This is the best honeymoon ever!” she barked. “I’d ask you why you came to disturb your Domina’s important business, but I don’t want this moment—this pathetic display—to end!” She giggled nastily. Setting aside her crown and her scepter in a leisurely fashion, she continued: “If you’re done with your chores, nod your heads with my boots in your mouths. Ha ha! Excellent! If you’ve bathed yourselves, nod your heads. Good! And if you’ve served dinner in the dining room? Veeeerrry good, darlings. Oh! I have a fun game! Without removing my boots from your mouths—or biting my toes!—I want each girl to remove her boot. You can use your hands to pull them off, but your mouth must stay wrapped around that boot, and that boot needs to remain deep inside your mouth in gag-a-bitch position, until you’ve removed it entirely, and I accept it from you. Oh ho ho, that’s cute… look how hard you gurls are working on those boots. You two look really ree-diculous!” she guffawed. “Like a couple of Maltese puppies down there, wearing only your dog-collars.” When they removed her boots nearly simultaneously, she laughed again: “A tie! Good doggies! Such committed, devoted little puppies…” she purred, rubbing her knuckles under their chins before taking her boots and setting them aside. “Penny, your first chore tomorrow is to polish my boots. I want them gleaming!”
“Yes, Domina,” she answered, hanging her head in shame at how Channah was making fun of them.
“No time for your pouting,” she chided. “Worship my feet. While they’re still warm and layered with the smell of leather. I’ve had a long, stressful day while you two have been cleaning without a care in the world. Go on, use your mouths and your hands to relax me.” She observed them, sighing and relaxing back in her throne as they kissed her heels, sucked her toes, rubbed the balls of her feet, and caressed her arches. “Oh… that feels good. You girls are naturals. I may need to keep you two with me to de-stress me at the end of each day… mm….”
When she felt her breathing deepen and slow, she ordered them: “That’s enough for now, sweeties. Now put your arms back on the dais, stretched out toward me, armpits on the edge of the dais, that’s good. And use your toes to brace your legs and knees right where they are. I’m going to put pressure on your faces, and I don’t want you to fold or slide.” Ignoring their confused expressions, she waited for them to move their arms and feet into the positions she had commanded. Then she stepped on their faces with the soles of her feet, relaxing a moment, feeling their breath tickling the soft skin in her arches, while she untied her robe and slipped it from her shoulders. Then, bracing her feet on their faces and her shoulders on the back of her throne, she raised her hips and slid her robe out from under her, settling back down and draping it gently in its accustomed resting place over the back of her throne. Finally she put her feet back down on the dais and slid her hips forward off her throne, dropping into a squat immediately above and in front of them, her beautiful bare legs emerging from the slits cut up to her hips on both sides of the simple tube dress.
“Stand up! Go on!” And when they had, she rested her arms around their necks, with her hands on their shoulders, using them to steady her as she jumped off the dais to the floor. Devastating Penny with a flirtatious look, she flicked her head back towards her dais and commanded: “Get my heels for me, bitch.” Taking advantage of her most-vulnerable moment, when she was stretched forward as far as she could reach to touch and pull on Channah’s mules, she slapped her ass. And as she took the high-heeled sandals from her and set them on the ground, using their shoulders for support again, she slid into the sandals, kissing each girl quickly before leading them towards the dining room.
Literature Section “07-31 The Naked Debutantes”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 31 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls: Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4316 words—Accompanying Images: 2141-2145—Published 2025-08-03—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.
