Tag: coffee

continued from 06-44

“Why is qahwah a secret?” Penny asked, beginning to eat with Chas.

“First, because it’s an advantage.  We always prefer to keep our advantages over our enemies, for as long as possible,” Sindonie explained.  “Second, we always want to avoid unexplained contacts with other parts of the world that the humans don’t have.  Everywhere we go, we try to blend in and be like the hucows as much as we can.”

“Hucows?!”  the girls laughed.  “Is that like…”

Sindonie pinkened.  “Human cattle.”

“But we’re—”

Christendom, dar al-Islam, and Beyond

“Let’s stay on track, shall we?  Speaking Arabic as fluently as you both do, you can range from Spain to India and the Balkans to the ports of the Indian Ocean without raising an eyebrow.  In Christendom, you can be what you are, gentle English.  Your class was at one advantage the Countess intended you to have by selecting you. 

“But because you’re both so fair and pale, and you would have trouble blending seamlessly, in dar al-Islam—the Muslim world—your story will be that you are Saqaliba—from the Balkans.  The other option would be Circassians, but since saqaliba live amongst Christians, you’re less likely to be caught posing as a Saqlabi.  Either way, it’s a near-perfect cover for a mamluk or jariya because as Christians and pagans, respectively, Saqaliba and Circassians, like blacks, are preferred as slaves in the Western part of dar al-Islam.  Many if not most mamalik and jawari are Saqaliba or Circassian.  To serve the Queen outside Christian and Muslim territories, you would have to learn other languages.”

“Does she have operatives in Cathay?”  Penny asked, wide-eyed.  “The West Indes?”

“And beyond.  She has operatives everywhere there are people.  I’m told those include parts of the world no one in Europe has ever even heard of.  Now try your qahwah, girls,” she insisted.  And when they hesitated to touch their cups to their lips, she said:  “I know it smells harsh.  Try it.  With sweetening, you’ll come to enjoy it.”

And they did.  “I do love sugar, Mistress,” Penny admitted.

“I know you do, dear.  Now eat up.  Not rudely, but efficiently.  The human servants were beginning to prepare baths for you when I took your food.”

Honeymoon Advice

“Is there anything we need to know about our seclusion to be prepared, Mistress?”  Penny asked between bites.

“According to rumor, you girls have already learned most of what you need to know for the honeymoon,” she teased them again, watching them squirm a moment, a distant look coming into her eye as she doubled down.  “I remember when I first met each of you.  You did look girlish to me, as many children do.  But the way you evolved and grew… you’re both quite lovely and feminine.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” they chorused, turning redder.

“The Queen has a remarkable eye for transgender jawari.  I’ve met dozens of them and like you, most of them don’t even need makeup.  Your Svadhishthana Cages will help you look like beautiful young women by preventing the further growth of hair.  But to preserve your beauty, it will be important for you to keep eating carefully, avoiding male animal flesh, and using the herbs and spices as you’ve been trained, even when you are out on your own.”

“Yes, Mistress,” they answered.  “We understand,” Penny amplified.

After considering carefully for a moment, Sindonie continued:  “To answer your question, I know you’ve had a very hard week, and that you are struggling with anger and confusion about the changes.  Especially the cages, collars, and twisters, and… what she expects of you to serve her cause.”  Their eyes blazed with the truth of that, and their hurt.  “Oh, dear girls, I’m so sorry,” she reached forward, placing a gentle hand on each girl’s shoulder and neck to connect and empathize with them.  “Even I, who was not adopted as a child but came into the Queen’s service as an adult, have had to face—challenges.”  She bit her lip, shaking her head slightly but firmly as if rejecting something.  “Serving our Queen is not easy.  But the same can be said for any human King.  Their concerns are not ours.”

“Your honeymoon is a time for you to heal your connection with Her, to feel the joy of your union with Her, while learning your new relationship with Her.  Try to find other outlets for your anger, like working hard to serve her.  And sublimate the feelings you can’t work out, into your natural submissiveness.  In this respect, you are more fortunate than the mamluks.  We’ve given you all the tools we can to prepare you to be content, even joyous, in your service and obedience to her.  The mamluks have rigid honor where you have bent desires, but honor keeps them even more emotionally separate, from Her and from other humans, even as it protects their loyalty and fidelity.  You have… this.  There is no ‘honeymoon’ for the mamluks beyond what they enjoyed of your trials.  They are pushed out into the world, not sheltered at home from it.”

“Also, now that you are proven and sworn to Her, She can start to share Her amazing knowledge and experience with you.  You cannot even imagine the worlds she moves through.  If you can relax, and follow her lead, try the new things—like qahwah—that she tries to show you, you will be a richer and better person for it.  And, I am told, you will know dark delights that she only shares with her jawari.”

The boys shivered with both the warmth and the chilly thrill of anticipation, looking at one another, and then back at her, anxiously, seeking and receiving reassurance from one another and her eyes.  “Thank you, Mistress Sindonie,” they chorused.

Valide to Valide

“Good.  Here, stand up,” she urged them, walking to one side of the table and embracing both girls for a long, tight hug.  “With your initiation,” she began, her voice cracking as all three of them began to sob together, “With it, I will no longer be your valide.  For most jawari, that role would belong to the most-senior jariya; but for the two of you, your valide will be your Domina.  I promise, though, I will always be your governess, and I will always be here for you.”  With a final, intense squeeze, she implored them:  “Trust and obey your Queen and Domina and—” she could hardly say it “valide in all things.  Trust and obey her.  Promise me!”

“We promise!” they bawled, delaying their separation. 

But finally, she shook her head and backed away, wiping her eyes and waving vaguely toward the stairs.  “Come!  We’ve taken too long already.  Penny—no, you’ll want to keep your blanket around you—girls, please work together to bring the tray with you and set it in the Great Chamber.”

CHAPTER SIX PART 45:  “LE SACCAGE DE LA SALE BÊTE ROUGE (RAMPAGE OF THE DIRTY RED BEAST)”

2025-03-29 Literature Section “06-45 Hella Honeymoon II”—Accompanying Images:  1539-1541.  1142 words—©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.

adventuresofaradicalprovocateur tudor england femdom humiliation dominatrix succubus coffee jariya jawari governess honeymoon wedding polyamory valide mother chakra

PREVIOUSLY:   Like a substantial minority of the biologically male orphans, slaves, and refugees “adopted” into Channah’s global family of proto-operatives, Chas and the slightly-younger Penny had been raised as transgender girls.  Upon Penny’s eighteenth birthday, they had undergone the hazing and trials to become jariya women:  For six days and nights they were guilted, punished, trained, seduced, subjugated, intimidated, cajoled, drugged, teased, confused, gaslit, sleep-deprived, tormented, and broken to the ultimate will of the succubae.  But unlike almost any of the orphans, their wedding to Channah as her 35^th and 36^th sisterwives—her first human brides in centuries—had comprised the last phase of those trials.  After suffering the Seven Indignities, the protracted ceremonies allowing the girls to demonstrate their loyalty and worthiness through their submission and suffering, they had finally been allowed to sleep.  NOW:

Graduation

The girls were awakened by the smell of hot eggs and bacon, their first hint they had been allowed to oversleep.  Blinking and rubbing their eyes like schoolchildren, they discovered the sun was well up in the sky, although from the North-facing windows they could not see its exact angle.  They were where they had fallen asleep the previous night, on futons laid on flattened pews in what they could not help thinking of as a private chapel but, as a desecrated church that had never been restored, had been taken by hell as a satanikoklus of the succubae.

Sindonie, their governess of a decade, sat smiling across from them on an uncovered pew.  As always, she was practically, if exquisitely, dressed, reflecting at once her personality and class.  There could be no doubt she was a member of the gentry, England’s lower nobility.  Her clothing was neat, to all appearances unworn, made of the finest cloths not reserved for upper nobility.  The girls could not remember ever having seen her disarrayed, or even with a scuff on her boot or a single hair out of place beneath her hood; certainly nothing as vulgar as being sweaty or dirty, no matter the temperature.  But typically for her, atypically for her class, she wore little or no jewelry, the cuts of her dresses were simple with clean lines, and she avoided fashions like tall heels or dress loops that would hamper her movements.

Between them stood a low table, cleared of the night’s empty cups and wine bottles, now filled with a silver tray loaded with the eggs and bacon they had smelled, as well as breads, sweetbreads, water, milk, sugar, and a hot pot of something having a strong and brisk odor they had never smelled before.

“Mistress Sindonie, is this for us?” Penny marveled.

“Yes, it is,” she beamed.

“And you brought it to us?!” Chas wondered.

“I did,” she nodded, cocking one eyebrow as if to say “can you believe that?”  “I even boiled the qahwah myself, because it is considered a secret of the Court.  So you’re not to speak of it to outsiders.”

Since they didn’t even know what qahwah was, they weren’t worried about spilling the beans, so to speak.  Instead they looked at one another, somewhere between dazed and amazed, before Penny asked quietly:  “Mistress, are we part of the Court of Lust now?”

She smiled again, warmly, and nodded.  “You are.  You’re still not quite fully married, but you have completed the trials—and before you start looking worried, don’t.  You’ve endured the trials and passed the tests.  The hard part is done, now it’s time for your reward.  You and the other members of your class will be formally initiated into the Court of Lust when you return.”

“Return?”  Penny asked, a little anxiously.

“Reward?”  Chas asked, a little hopefully.

“From your honeymoon with Channah!  Which is a celebration, mind you, my dour little Penny—a celebration for all three of you to bond in seclusion and seal your marriage—not a challenge.”  Meeting their eyes for a moment, and reading them instantly, she tossed her head to one side.  “Do your business, girls.  There’s a screen over there if you’re still feeling modest.  Although,” she snickered, “It may be a little late for that, from what I heard.”

Both boys blushed, intensely.  “Mistress!” they chorused in protest to their childhood governess, both opting to scurry behind the screen, holding blankets around themselves for modesty, doubly happy to escape from her sight.

“I’ll always be your governess, but you’re adults now, girls.”  And meeting their eyes as they returned, reading their minds as she so often seemed to do, she confirmed:  “It’s much better to stay near the food.  The chapel desperately needs a good airing-out.  Big George modified the top of the windows so they can be opened to vent,” she nodded toward a thin strip of glass at the top of the stained-glass windows where George had painstakingly moved grout and glass from their original stone frames to metal ones mounted on hinges, “but they have to be small and high to keep prying eyes from seeing inside.  So it will take awhile for this—” she smirked again, shaking her head and teasing them.  “You girls’… scandalous activities….”

They both opened their mouths to protest but shut them decisively, reddening again.

“I had to bring your food because the human servants couldn’t be allowed in here to smell the—evidence of debauchery in the chapel, or find it filled with naked men and girls.”  And without their having to ask, she again anticipated:  “Your Dominae left yesterday—”

“Yesterday?!” they chorused.

“Yes, you’ve been asleep almost twenty hours.  The men woke up earlier this morning.”

“Thank you for bringing us our breakfast—or dinner?—Mistress,” Penny bowed slightly in appreciation while Chas echoed him.

The Honeycomb

“You’re welcome.”  She had been preparing two cups, putting milk and sugar in them before pouring a brown, almost bitter, stream of steaming-hot liquid into the two cups.  “Qahwah,” she explained.  “Because you girls are soft and sweet, I’ve put milk and sugar in it so it won’t be too strong for you.  When you return from your honeymoon, if the Queen hasn’t taught you already, I’ll teach you girls how to make it for everyone.”  She giggled.  “You have to make it in the Countess’s bathroom, away from the eyes of cook and the kitchen maids.”

“What is it?”  Penny asked.  It was always Penny who asked.

“A hard little bean from a plant that grows far up the Blue Nile.  It gives you energy and sharpens your mind.  Now that you know who your Queen is—” she met their eyes briefly— “yes?”

“Yes, Mistress,” they nodded, still showing traces of the awe and anxiety they felt at the revelation.

“Penny told me,” Chas explained.  “Although I can’t imagine—”

“You won’t have to, not for long,” she assured them.  “The Queen will take you through the honeycomb in her realm to your honeymoon.  It’s how she and members of the Court travel around the world.”

“Where are we going?”

Sindonie smiled.  “I suspect I know, a particularly wonderful place she calls her natural cloister.  But I’m certain she’ll want to tell you, or more likely show you, herself.  The honeycomb is how the Court stays in communication with all our operatives, and the reason you were taught Arabic.  The honeycomb is also how the qahwah came to England, from the Queen’s palace in Cairo.  You know we have always discouraged you from drinking small beer, Chas?”  Chas nodded slowly.  “No discouragement required for our prudish little Penny, of course.  Whose example should have illustrated the truth, that small beer for breakfast and dinner doesn’t actually protect health.”  She shook her head.  “Now you can both drink qahwah instead.  Wine and spirits should be for celebration—or comfort—not for sustenance.”

“Why is it a secret?” Penny asked, beginning to eat with Chas.

CHAPTER SIX PART 44:  “LE SACCAGE DE LA SALE BÊTE ROUGE (RAMPAGE OF THE DIRTY RED BEAST)”

2025-03-28 Literature Section “06-44 Hella Honeymoon I”—Accompanying Images:  1535-1538.  1170 words—©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.