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.
