Tag: degradation

1888 06-111 Bespelling her best girl
1889 06-111 Penny besotted by Channah
1890 06-111 Desperately holding on to mother
1891 06-111 Penny at Channah’s feet 4ever
1892 06-111 Chas’s Manipura Chain  (as it appears prior to implantation)

Explicit version containing masturbation, sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, and prostatestimulation themes at 06-111[X] Girls and Boys and Succubae, Oh My! at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah leads Penny in an intense and passionate dance while Kadidia is holding Chastity from behind working her over.  NOW:

“I want to be a girl too,” Chastity whined, not planning it, just blurting it out, overcome by the sight of Penny.  “Can—can you make me a girl, Your Grace?”  Kadidia just laughed, while Channah answered:

“You’ve always wanted to be a girl, haven’t you, Chastity?”

She hesitated half a second, she didn’t even know why, then burst out:  “Yes!  Yes, Domina!”

“Your whole life?”

“My whole life,” she nodded, making a little noise in response to the sensations Kadidia’s hand was producing, and without her realizing it, the seductive magic Kadidia was pouring into her.  “As long as I can remember.”

“Look down at your belly—ungh!—Chas.”

She did, and gasped, seeing and then double-checking by touching the gold-and-emerald medlar fruit in her navel.

“I’ll save the long version for later.” 

“Oh—yes, Domina,” Chastity agreed, a whiny, plaintive noise like a bitch because she was disoriented, starting to get turned on, and never very good at resisting succubae or their operatives, even on the few occasions she’d wanted to.  “Yes…”

“That is your ticket to becoming who you want to be.  If you really want to be a girl, it will make you a girl.”

“I do, Domina, I do!”

“I believe you, dear.  But what kind of girl do you want to be?”

“What—what kind?” She asked in confusion, Kadidia’s big, strong, yet gentle hand beginning to get a response similar to the one Channah was receiving from Penny.

“The kind keeping their little boy part?  Or the kind with all the girl-parts and none of the parts you were born with?”

“Oh!  I want my clitty, Domina!  I love my clitty!”  The coven roared with laughter, and Chas pinkened, suddenly realizing how much of an audience they had on the platform, let alone… whatever that was below them.  In a more muted tone she pleaded:  “They are girl-parts!  They’re my girl-parts!”

“And when you play, do you always like to play the girl’s role?  Or do you like—”

“I like—I love!—all the parts, Domina!” Still embarrassed, but not surprised, that her confession was greeted with amusement all around.

“Penny,” Channah spoke to her rider.  “You’re not like Chastity, are you sweetie?”

“She’s a girl!”  Chas whined excitedly.

Channah laughed, shaking her head in mock-exasperation.  “That’s not what I meant, Chas honey.  And I didn’t ask you.”

“Oh,” she said, chastened.

“Penny only gets to play the girl-parts.  I’m not giving her a choice.  You know that, right muffin?  You’re never, ever, ever going to get to play the boy in bed?”

And she laughed, a low growl of pleasure deep in her throat, when Penny sobbed and confessed:  ‘I know, Domina!” letting her head fall and for a second.

“I’d ask Penny if she wants to play the boy part or not, but…” she turned to Chas and pecked her on the cheek, surprising her with the display of affection.  Stage-whispering:  “That might be kind of cruel, to ask a girl doomed to never actually get to try, hunh?  What do you think?”

And she cackled with delight, like the other succubae, at Penny’s unplanned, pitiful moue of recognition and acknowledgment of the cruel truth. 

“Oh, don’t whine.  You should be thanking me for making the decision for you.  I think we both know—or at least, you already suspect and fear what I already know, that you couldn’t take a man’s role with either a girl or a boy!”  She laughed harshly.  “Could you, pumpkin?  Hell, you can barely handle yourself, can you honey?  Admit it, baby.  It’s okay, sweetie.  I know you’re a wimp and I still love you.  Admit it!”

“I know!  I know you’re right, Domina!”  Penny cried out in anguish, delighting their audience.

“Why, of course!  It’s perfectly obvious,” Channah scoffed.  “You haven’t got the man, or even the little boy, in you for that.”  She patted Penny gently as she wept and grunted, playing teasingly with her best little approximation of manhood.  “Pudding and jelly don’t work the same way proper boy-parts do, do they, Puddin’?”

“No, Domina.”

“This is the only penetration you’re ever going to enjoy, isn’t it?”  And she emphasized the point with several particularly-hard bumps as she moved her hand faster over Penny’s wannabe-boy parts, enjoying watch her whine, cry, and nod, hardly able to help herself.  “I let Penny be this way, even though—well, okay, maybe because?” she snorted, sticking out her tongue, daring Penny to protest, “she’s never going to get to use it for the purpose a man’s body was intended for, or feel the way a man should feel, if he’s really a man.” 

“Because you’re an evil bitch,” Kadidia chuckled, and Channah threw her head back and laughed.

“Guilty as sin, darling,” she cackled.  “But that’s not really the reason.  Not the main one, anyway.  It was mainly because boy parts are so much more useful for teasing and controlling than girl parts.  Imagine, a girl like Penny, through and through.  Based on a great deal of experience, my intuition tells me Penny wouldn’t know what to do—or, more exactly, not even want to do what a man would want to do, even if I let her.  No matter what she’s heard and been taught about it.  Would she?”

Kadidia nodded begrudgingly, laughing.  “We can all sense it, Majesty,” she agreed.  “We know a girl when we see one.  Regardless of her outer form.”

“So she doesn’t have any real use for those parts, except to control her.  And by deciding for her, I’m really doing her a favor by shielding her from having to face that embarrassing truth!”

“Thank your Master, pussy!”  Kadidia barked, with a big grin.

“Thank—you—Domina!”  Penny grunted and groaned.

“But you, Chas…”  Channah turned back towards the blonde girl.  “I’m guessing you like to play the boy sometimes, even when you’re a girl.  Am I right?”

“Oh, yes, Domina!”

“And there’s—ungh!—another big difference between you two, isn’t there, little Chastity?”

Chastity reddened.  “Maybe,” she whispered in a tiny voice.  “I’m not sure.”

“Oh, I think you’re.. sure!  Penny, even you’re sure, aren’t you?”

She swallowed.  “About what, Domina?  Ah!”

“About your future.  Does it turn you on, baby?  Do you dream about it at night?”  she giggled, eating up Penny’s uncertainty and confusion and worst of all, the dread that she might just know where this was going after all.  And when she didn’t say anything, Channah asked:  “All your life, have you just dreamed about boys doing the things to you that I like to do?”

Penny reddened and whispered in a tiny voice, biting her lip as she came closer still to what she was afraid her body was about to do for the second time today:  “No, Mistress.”

“Who do you dream about being your big, nasty masters?  Boys or girls?”

“Girls, Master,” Penny whimpered.

“Then I—well, my clients—your customers—and I are going to have to train you until you learn to like it, aren’t we?”

“I—I don’t know if that’s ever going to—” Penny tried to avoid answering, but then, meeting her eyes, trailed off, crumbled, and yielded miserably:  “Yes, Domina.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I will need to be trained to be that kind of girl, Domina.”

“And do you doubt I can train you?  Do you doubt I will?”                                                                                                             

“No Domina” she whispered, her lip quivering cutely as tears rolled down her cheeks, certain she could be broken by the much-stronger force of nature leaning over her, hands on the bar from which Penny was hanging, bearing over and down on her with a fierce and predatory grin as she continued to make a point of Penny’s weakness and receptivity.

“Awww…. Good girl!  I wish I could kiss you but—not right now.”  And then she dug the knife in:  “How about Chas, Penny?” she grinned evilly again.

Literature Section “06-111[X] Girls and Boys and Succubae, Oh My!”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 111 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1324 words::Explicit 1363 words—Accompanying Images:  1888-1892—Published 2025-06-10—©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.

Explicit version containing masturbation, orgasm, penetration, edging, and draining themes at 06-110X Chastity Comes Back for More at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

1884 06-110 She’s a compliant little bitch, isn’t she?
1885 06-110 That’s it, Slut-a-rella.  Make my boots spotless
1886 06-110 DON’T drop that skirt, missy!  We’re not done!
1887 06-110 Does ordering her around ever… make you wet?

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah leads Penny in an intense and passionate dance.  Meanwhile, Kadidia is propping up a comatose Chastity beside Channah, who has urged Penny to help Kadidia revive her.  NOW:

“Chas, Chastity, please wake up!”  Penny called out sincerely with her heart and soul.  “Come back, you can do it!  I did, I know you can too!”

Kadidia leaned over Chastity’s shoulder, putting one hand across Chastity’s chest, turned her head to the side, and kissed her on the lips, breaking the spell that had banished Chas from her own body.  Almost immediately Chastity jerked and came awake, causing Penny to cry out thankfully with relief.

“Good work, Pleaser!” Channah praised her, keeping one hand on the bar and using the other to reach out and take Penny’s chin in her hand, forcing her to look her in the eyes and see the hunger and the passion there.  Penny shivered, helplessly charged by Channah’s charisma, magic, and raw sexual energy, multiplied by Penny’s own sensitivity and responsiveness.  Channah dialed back the pressure on Penny, allowing the tickler to pulse, steady and low; while she drew her hand back from Penny’s chin.  Penny tensed and gasped in fear, causing Channah to laugh.  “Oh, poor widdle baby so nervous!  Please don’t worry, sweetie, this is what you’ve been waiting for!  Mama’s gonna love you baby…” then she snickered, unable to be completely sweet here, in this environment, with the wickedness she had planned.  “Mostly.”

But then she showed the girl just how sweet she could be, as Penny continued to swing back and forth.  As they continued to sweat and move together, the sound turned flatter, moist, and nasty, from the soft whisper of skin on skin to a wet slapping sound of flesh on flesh like women having a slap fight in a rain storm.  Channah bit her lip, for her own pleasure and rude satisfaction, and to show Penance how hot and dominant she was feeling.  Penny’s own face and slack jaw, even without regard to her trussed-up position, made it clear how perfectly she was complementing Channah with her passivity and submission, starting to moan very quickly with real pleasure as Channah’s behavior let her turn from fear to hope, resignation to interest and arousal, and soon, soon, desperation. 

Slap.  Slap.  Slap!  She bounced the girl extra-hard just for fun, giggling with Penny’s wail and her own sudden dizzy suspense as Penny swung out to maximum arc and Channah waited to find if they would be able to continue, or be rudely interrupted. 

But it was edging perfection:  Penny came soooo close to escaping her they both gasped before she returned and they both cried out in relief, the sounds both of them were making, taking on a little, desperate edge.

Meanwhile, next to Channah, having awakened her princess with a kiss, Kadidia played with Chastity’s nipples and held her tight, murmuring into her ear how much she looked forward to taking her the next time they were on this parapet together. 

Chas gasped when her mind started processing well enough to listen and make sense of Kadidia’s words, and Kadidia chuckled, deep in her throat.

“Oh? hmm…” the girl mumbled, only half-awake, the delicious sound turning into a surprised yelp.  “Who are YOU!??!”  And immediately after her genuine, unconscious outburst, realizing she had just barked at—first, a giantess; and second, someone who almost certainly outranked her—she started apologizing:  “I’m sorry, D—Mis—”

“Your Grace, Your—Your Grace, Chas!”  Penny came to her rescue.  “She’s Succubus Duchess Kadidia!”

“Your Grace!”  Chas repeated automatically, her eyes wide and looking every which way.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just—I don’t know—I can’t remember—PENNY!!”  she screeched suddenly, taking in her circumstances.  Even Penny managed a tiny weak rueful smile as Chastity, continuing to process and taking in Penny’s rearing flesh and desperate face, inferred that she was okay.  At least, insofar as any living soul dragged to hell for unnatural supernatural sex-torture rituals and hung out over a precipice above an ocean of ravenous devils could be.

And then, her third realization hit:  “Penny!  You—you’re so beautiful!  Oh, oh Penance—I can’t stand it—you—you—you’re so pretty!”

Penny’s face crumbled and she moaned.  “I know I’m a mess…”

“A hot mess, girl,” Chas promised.  “And I mean—girl!  What happened to you?  Wait—what happened to me?!  I was so scared, Penny, I—”

“Hush,” Kadidia commanded, taking her chin again and turning her back to face her captor, eyes wide with anticipation and arousal in the most primal of senses, focus and attention and heightened blood responding to prepare her body for whatever she was going to need to do next—fight, flee, or fuck—because Chas, bound and held from behind by a woman two or three times her size, had already kind of figured out she wasn’t going to be left alone.  She was still adjusting and nowhere near arousal quite yet, but she was starting to wrap her mind around her circumstances, remember she had cum earlier without permission, been punished, and then been—she shuddered with the recollection, and decided she didn’t want to think about it just now.  Couldn’t possibly think about it now, with Penny and the Duchess and—and—

Channah grunted:  “Chastity—you’re—you’re with us again?  You have the presence of mind to know what’s—ungh—happening around you?” 

“Yes, Domina,” she responded, still sounding dazed even to herself, but nodding as much as she could with Kadidia still holding her chin.  Less than a minute of awareness, and the very first moments of first setting eyes on, or even imagining anything like, Kadidia, and she already felt the heat of Kadidia’s easy power.  She realized of a sudden, with complete certainty, she could not resist Kadidia, physically or mentally, even if she tried her very hardest.  She swallowed and sighed involuntarily under Kadidia’s hands, pleasing the succubus with her natural reaction.  Kadidia’s hand moved lower.  Chastity sighed, and sank back into Kadidia’s big, brown, amused eyes.

“This one’s a natural-born slut,” Kadidia evaluated her, just like that, and Chas turned red, making a helpless little noise.

Literature Section “06-110[X] Chastity Comes Back for More”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 110 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1003 words::Explicit 1146 words—Accompanying Images:  1884-1887—Published 2025-06-09—©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.

1881 06-109 Channah, Khan of an Unholy Hoard
1882 06-109 Channah, Master of Horses and Slavegirls alike
1883 Channah, Domina of Rome, Champion of the Colosseum

Explicit version containing orgasm, sodomy, and analpenetration themes at 06-109X The Last Sedcuction at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny are locked in an intense and passionate dance, Channah desperate for an intimacy she never imagined existed and Penny whipsawed by her deep responses to her alternating affection and abuse, all of it magnified by the larger powers unleashed by the darkest rituals of the succubae in this unholiest of places.  NOW:

Channah drove Penny like a charioteer driving her mare into a frantic lather at the colosseum, heedless of—no, reveling in—the damage and chaos she caused as chariots crashed and competing animals and drivers were destroyed all around her, a price she was willing to pay for her victory, and indeed enjoyed as a benefit of it.

Faster and faster, her hips powered her tattoo against Penny’s soft buttocks and thighs, sending the girl bouncing everywhere her position, hanging suspended by her wrists and ankles like a human swing over the fiery pit, allowed her to rock.  Channah gripped the railing above her, making hers a full-body workout, barely aware someone else was substituting in for Kadidia behind her,. 

One of the greatest benefits of the twister, Channah thought, not for the first time, was how it worked on both a succubus and her boy under the nearly-second-nature instinct of the succubus.  It was powered largely by her subconscious, becoming just another muscle flexing automatically, in conjunction with all her other muscles, to effectuate her desires.  It also allowed her to focus even more-selfishly upon her own pleasure and satisfaction, while it coiled and shifted and mustered itself to put just the right pressures, in just the right places, at just the right pace, to tease and torment her girls the way Channah liked to do, without Channah having to think too much about aiming or aligning herself with any particular part of a partner’s body. The twister did that for her.  Channah’s grunting became more and more primal as she warmed up again, so hot and high she almost imagined she could turn off the firehose of her seductive magic and still take this mood further by just riding it.  But maybe she was less confident of that than she ought to be.  What she told herself, was that she couldn’t risk letting up because for the sake of the ritual, she needed Penny to have conflicting experiences of pleasure and torment at once, while she experienced perfect bliss.

Channah’s eyes started fluttering as she threw her head back and roared like a lioness, hearing Penny’s strangled cries complementing her.  Oh!  She was so responsive, deeply and instinctively:  a perfect lover and plaything for a selfish bitch of a succubus.

Channah whispered another string of filthy curses, these all of human origin but from half a dozen different languages.  “I’m—soo proud of you, pretty girl!  You’re—almost done, baby!”  she assured her submissive lover.

“Yes, Domina!” she screamed agreement, misunderstanding.

“No—I mean—afterwards, when you’re really drained and at your lowest ebb—if I give you a turn, I’m going to need you to do something for me.  Really give it your all.”

“IF?!”  Penny wailed, uncomprehending.  “IF?!”  She wept.  “I don’t think I even want this!  Not—not this way, ooh, aah!  I don’t think I even should be able to—it’s not right—BUT I DON’T THINK STOPPING IS AN OPTION DOMINA!!!” she half-hollered, half-whined.  “I can’t—I can’t imagine—I can’t even think—oh, god, Domina!  What you do to meeeeee!”

“Yes, ‘if’ baby,” she insisted, hardly able to imagine it herself, and determined to make Penny say ‘yes’ because if she said ‘no’… Channah had no idea what she would do.  Stop herself?  Really?  Oh Penny you have to say yes…. But out loud, she managed:  “It isn’t a right for jawari slave-girls, is it?”

“No Domina,” Penny had to agree, shaking her head, almost looking as if it were beyond her ability to imagine but she knew she had to obey.

“No, sweetie, it’s a privilege.  A—gift.  A—a—fucking blessing, bitch!”

“Yes, Domina!  I know, Domina,” Penny whined and wept.

“So, yes, IF you—you want it, baby, and it’s totally up to you, but I’m—I’m going to need you to—show me you mean it when you promise you want to make me happy.  Show me, once and for all, tonight, before you leave this platform.”

Penny looked genuinely surprised, although it was a little difficult to be sure under the submissive, helpless, completely placative and adoring posture she displayed to show respect for her Domina.  Eyes rolling and voice rising plaintively, she wailed in shock:  “You mean there’s more?  What else—what else IS there, Domina?”

“Taking this from another boy, bitch, instead of from a girl with bonus features.  You’ve known it was coming, don’t pretend you didn’t!”

“I—I know, I didn’t understand—I know I agreed Domina!  I won’t go back on my pledge, Domina, I promise!  I’ll give you everything.  I want to give you everything!  I know that now!  I just—I didn’t know what you wanted!”  She sobbed.  “I promise, Master, I’ll do as you command!  I know what you expect from me, Domina!  I’ll be good!  I’ll be good!  I swear I’ll be good, Domina, anything you want, whoever you want, I love you!”

“Oh, dumpling,” she purred, “I know you want to be my good girl.  And I want you to be passionate, so sexy baby.  That’s why I’ve arranged an extra-special treat your first time, so maybe even you’ll learn -um, well,  it’s not exactly your first time, I guess, is it?  I mean, the first time you put out for me, darling.”  Keeping her eyes feasting on Penny’s desperate, pathetic, needy form dangling out in space, absolutely nothing but a bit of air between her and the crazed armies of devils below, Channah called over her shoulder:  “Kadidia, is our other little girl ready to come back to us?”

“At your command, Majesty,” the woman answered, smoothly and calmly, her sweet bakhūr presence close by her side. 

“Then try to bring her back, Kadidia.  Penny, you can do your part to help by trying your best to lure her back to this world.  Show as much need and love as you can muster for your sister-wife!  Callher back to us!”

Penny’s eyes shifted just to Channah’s right, where Kadidia had casually propped up Chastity, nude except her cage, her twister, her ring, her collar, and the tight leather harness she had been strapped into, sexy elaborate straps crisscrossing over her body like threads of a spider’s web from her collar to her thighs.  Like a puppeteer storing a puppet, Kadidia had effortlessly set Chastity on her knees, holding her upright by one hand on one of her shoulders.  Chastity’s hands seemed to be tied behind her back, not that she was aware.  At the moment, her body was an empty meat suit, muscles slack, head dropping, an inanimate dead weight of flesh utterly disconnected from her friend, whose soul had been taken and secured somewhere far, far away from her body by the magic of the succubae.

Still reeling from her own experience there, the moment she caught sight of Chas, she screamed in horror and recognition, at the appalling absence of life writ large across her friend, something she knew she had done (had been?) only a few minutes before.  Her shock at the sight was compounded because she had had no perception of anything in this world when she was in the same state; and therefore, her conscious mind had not been presented before with the icewater spectacle of her friend’s body looking way more dead than alive. 

The mind and the body knew when they were looking at a dead thing.  They knew, and were shocked to the core.

Literature Section “06-109[X] The Last Seduction”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 109 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1246 words::Explicit 1353 words—Accompanying Images:  1881-1883—Published 2025-06-07—©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.


1870 06-107 Watcha wanna do, fairy stepmother?
1871 06-107 Do you trust me?  Completely, fairy stepmother!
1872 06-107 I’m going to rock you AND your whole world
1873 06-107 Is your little lap buddy going to rock me, too?

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, watersports, corporalpunishment, urination, and prostatestimulation themes at 06-107[X] A Succubaean Sex Stunt at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny are locked in an intense shared experience higher than treble singers in a helium balloon on Channah’s sex magick, Channah desperate for an intimacy she never imagined existed and Penny shattered body and soul by her brilliant ruthless exploitation of her unparalleled knowledge of the human male.  NOW:

Laughing cruelly, Channah watched with savage glee as the last of Penny’s water dribbled out of her flaccid little underperformer. 

“Keep begging, bitch!” Channah giggled, just to be a bitch, and Penny’s incoherent noises became peppered with recognizable words like “please” and “beg” and “Domina” and “no!” and “ugh!” and “I need—I need—oh ggggaaaaaawwwwwwdddddd….  What you do to me, Master!  Oh!  Oh!  Aiee!”  Like that.

Penny’s pleasing cries and their hot, sick scene went on until, using one of Miryam’s discarded stockings to mop up, Channah snapped:  “Open up!  Mouth wide open, come on, hold it!”  and then crammed the soggy mass of silk into Penny’s mouth, stuffing it down as deeply as she could until Penny gagged, reducing her noises to much more satisfactory muffled grunts and cries; and then pulling the other stocking around Penny’s head, tying it off as tightly as she could, holding Penny’s lips wide apart and the first stocking in place deep in her mouth.

As she was enjoying this, a massive presence Channah recognized even before she saw two midnight-black hands thread a rope under her arms, in front of her breasts, or smelled the spicy, distinctive aroma of the bakhūr Kadidia alone used in her perfume.  A second later, Channah felt the rope drawn tightly under her arms and knew at once that she would be perfectly safe no matter what occurred as she and Penny continued their slide towards the lip of the platform.

Channah kept rocking her girl, harder and harder, as Fang and Judah wrapped the two chains holding her wrists and ankles together on each side of her, twice around the railing just above the shackle anchor points as a safety, sliding them with a metallic chunking sound to keep them taut as Penny approached the edge at a point where there was nothing between the railing and the platform itself to stop anything going over.  Channah kept smearing her hands all over Penny’s shoulders and arms and legs and neck and sides while her belly did the same to Penny’s, covering every inch of the girl with oil until she was shiny from head to toe and slipperier than a stick of butter.

Penny screamed as her head, and then her shoulders, and then her back, slid over the lip of the hetaraslakos with increasing speed as the amount of surface area to provide friction slowing her, shrank.  A second later, Fang and Judah pulled the chains as tight as they could.  The bar was positioned with people of average height in mind.  Because Penny was quite a petite girl, the final yank on her chains actually lifted her shoulders, and then her hips, several inches above the surface, even as Fang and Judah slammed the pins closed on the two shackle mounts locking Penny firmly into place, hanging like a trussed pig from a roasting pole, her arm and leg on each side suspended from a sturdy hook under the railing. 

The poor girl was still screaming and wailing, trying to put together what had happened and whether she was about to die, or perhaps dead already, while the coven members roared with laughter and clapped one another on the back at a perfectly-executed suspension of a virgin—in this context, meaning a jariya who had never been suspended before, or even seen a suspension before.  Channah did note, with distinct relief, that as much as Channah’s manipulations had overridden what the girl’s mind and body intended, causing her to be incontinent in front, she had kept control of herself otherwise, which spoke well to Penny’s courage and presence of mind.  It was one of the risk factors that made suspension such a casino-like rush:  sometimes, weak-minded jawari ended the game before it had fully begun in that way, and were left to dangle in humiliation and increasing pain from overtaxed muscles, ignored until the succubae and the band had left and the cleaning crew arrived to restore the platform to pristine condition for next time.  Needless to say, jawari who insulted a succubus and ruined her day in such a way, drew the least-desirable and most-dangerous assignments, as far away from the succubae as possible, after that. 

So Penny had passed yet another offhand and arbitrary test to satisfy the whims of her masters without ever knowing it was occurring.

Like an oak tree, without breaking a sweat, Kadidia stopped and held Channah so her knees remained on the platform an inch or two from the edge.  Miryam and Rivqah slipped kneepads under Channah’s knees for her comfort.  If the jariya were left alone, hanging in place, gravity would bring their hips to rest just where Channah’s spine was; which meant the succubus had plenty of leverage to thrust against her victim’s haunches, especially since petite, pretty Penny was suspended between six and twelve inches above the platform by her short legs.  Laughing at Penny’s lost, confused, anxious, uncomfortable expression, Channah resumed her attentions.

It was a skill.  An art.  One Channah and the other succubae had had centuries to practice, to perfect, and to elaborate upon.  Channah quickly and expertly fell into a perfect rhythm, timing her movements so her jariya’s momentum increased, propelled out away from Channah’s body until they were almost (but not quite) separated, then swinging back down, before repeating the cycle again.

Below them, the heady mixture of arousal, pain, fear, need, and power imbalance acted on the crowd like PCP, simultaneously stimulating them, polluting them, and ripping whatever was left of their minds and bodies to shreds.  Their noise began rising again, their movements to speed up, their center mass to press forward to a point directly under Penny’s swinging body.  From her position, even in her aroused and fully-occupied condition, Channah could tell something was terribly wrong below; but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.  It didn’t seem to be interfering with the energy of the tortuous dance she was leading them all in, so she pushed it to the back of her mind for now; but her impression of wrongness was clear and strong enough she wasn’t likely to forget about it.

Penny flew and swung back and forth like a pendulum, faster and faster as Channah felt a power storm start building and gathering within her.

Literature Section “06-107[X] A Succubaean Sex Stunt”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 107 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1055 words::Explicit 1139 words—Accompanying Images:  1870-1873—Published 2025-06-05—©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.


1866 06-106 WTF is THAT, stepmother, and what does it want?!
1867 06-106 What do you keep a wiggly thing like that around for, stepmother dear?

1868 06-106 Why is Mr. Wiggles looking at me that way?
1869 06-106 What on EARTH do those wiggly things want from ME?!

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, watersports, corporalpunishment, urination, and prostatestimulation themes at 06-106[X] Squeezing Penny ‘til She Pops at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny are locked in an intense shared experience higher than treble singers in a helium balloon on Channah’s sex magick, Channah desperate for an intimacy she never imagined existed and Penny shattered body and soul by her brilliant ruthless exploitation of her unparalleled knowledge of the human male.  NOW:

“You should be ashamed of your infantile loss of control!”  Channah scolded her fiercely, looking down and laughing.  “You’re leaking everywhere, sweetie.  If you were a man, you’d be too interested in me to worry about your bladder.  But because you’re really a girl, you’re still soft as pudding…” then, with a laugh, she blurted:  “I love that!  That’s what you are, isn’t it, Pleaser?  You’re my very own little Puddin’, aren’t you darling?”

“No!  You’re doing things to me—things I can’t—I don’t even understand!” she blubbered pitifully, shaking her head, trying to make sense of it.  Less rationally, wanting to deny it.  “No, that can’t be…”

“But it is,” Channah insisted, “and we’ve got the evidence to prove it, don’t we, girlie?  Shall I make you admit it?  You pee when there’s pressure on your bladder just like any other girl.”  

Because it was clear by now Penny would—Penny only could, helplessly—submit unconditionally to anything her erastes did to her, she didn’t need to bother with holding Penny’s ankles or wrists any more.  But she wanted Penny to know how deeply submissive she was, so she gathered her eromenos’s wrists back into her right hand and yanked them down and behind Penny’s head, allowing Channah to rest her weight on her own hand and use it for leverage while pinning Penny’s below it.  With her left hand, she started smearing her hand over Penny’s tummy and breasts, then brought her hand to Penny’s mouth. 

“Please no!”  Penny tried to murmur with her lips together.

Channah just laughed harder, watching Penny’s eyes dart to their audience before she looked back at Channah with horror, shaking her head violently. 

“Open right now, Puddin’, or it will go badly for you,” Channah ordered her roughly.  And with a particularly loud wail, Penny surrendered again, another long swath of whatever dignity she still had roughly torn away like a layer of clothing, helplessly accepting another indignity, opening her mouth as she cried and accepted Channah’s fingers.  Channah used her right hand behind Penny’s neck, holding her wrists, to lift her up partially and maneuver her onto the slippery oil-covered stone beside them; using her left hand to pull Penny’s hair, and then again to slide over her skin.  Looking up at her coven members, she instructed them:  “This little girl’s already made a mess of herself—and me.  Just pour oil on her.  I want her slipperier than a greased pig with her cuffs paired for the swing.”

Penny opened her mouth and started to complain, or plead, or something.  With a sneer, Channah immediately shoved her freshly lacquered fingers into Penny’s mouth again.  And that was that for Penny’s little protest, or whatever it would have been.  Channah talked instead, as she cruelly moved her hips again and again, as hard as she could, the girl looking pitifully uncomfortable beneath her.  “You look rough, honey,” she pretended to pout.  “Is baby sore?”  She nodded, laughing when Penny nodded agreement around her hand.  She removed it and slapped Penny’s cheek.  “Too bad.  Little babies who ruin their masters’ clothing are going to be uncomfortable.  Because they deserve it.  See?  Your disgraceful display is only more evidence you’ve been a girl all along.”

“NOO, Master!”  Penny bawled uselessly.  Looking back down at Penny, Channah smiled wolfishly at the scared, uncertain, lost expression struggling for real estate on Penny’s panting, overstimulated, passion-tortured face and kept moving over the smaller girl, giggling as Penny’s oily shoulders and back started slipping over the stone surface.  She laughed aloud watching as Rivqah cooed and verbally humiliated Penny while she sputtered and spat, trying to keep the stream of oil Rivqah was dribbling all over her face, out of her mouth.

Channah had known her knees would suffer on the stones without kneepads, but she felt herself becoming irritated and cranky anyway, taking it out on Penny by working harder than before, holding her wrists in a vicelike grip so as the rest of her body slid, her wrists slipped beneath her neck to an uncomfortable position, and by being careless with Penny’s sensitive new curves, alternating—one hand in her mouth, the next percussed on her curves, with a bit of hard pinching for added effect.  “You’ve got nice, classic lines Penny.  With those curves, you’re going to make a lot of men very happy.  And I do mean a lot,” she cackled as Penny practically flinched.  “So you’d better get used to that funny, intense feeling inside you.  Learn to enjoy it, if you can.  And figure out some way to get that girl-bladder under control, or you’re going to find yourself over the knees of a lot of frustrated clients being disciplined for disrespecting them!”  She shook her head, marveling as Penny continued to struggle to control herself. 

Suddenly she frowned.  “Whatever happened to your panties?  And Esmeray’s panties?  We could use those—to—unh!  Absorb all this!”  She looked up and chuckled when she saw Miryam wryly kicking off her boots and removing her silk stockings, even as Rivqah kept pouring oil on Penny—as directly toward her mouth and nostrils as possible—and then flicking the oily stream above Penny’s head to lubricate the stones ahead of her.

At the same time, Judah and Fang took Penny’s wrists from Channah and attached each one to a delicate ankle, using two carabiners that already dangled chains.  This freed both of Channah’s hands to explore Penny’s new girl body, even as she continued to tease and torment the girl by turns with pinches, slaps, tickles, light trailing brushes, and deep tissue massage.  And, of course, force-feeding her until Miryam casually dropped her stockings on Penny’s tummy and tucked them down between her legs. 

Channah used her control over Penny’s insides to squeeze her hard, even as Channah’s fingers seized and squeezed her victim on the outside, giggling as Miryam’s stockings prevented a fountain from spraying in every direction around Channah’s tightly-clasped fingers.  She used every bit of force she could to wring Penny’s insides, exulting while Penny’s orchestra of sounds and noises took on a choked, gurgling quality expressing the potent cocktail of feelings and experiences she was being compelled to imbibe by turns.  Her pitch soared and fell as the pressure intensified and peaked, and their audience laughed and applauded.

Literature Section “06-106[X] Squeezing Penny ‘til She Pops”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 106 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1059 words::Explicit 1186 words—Accompanying Images:  1866-1869—Published 2025-06-04—©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.

1860 06-105 It’s Kool-Aid for your brain…
1861 06-105 That’s a perfectly natural reaction.  So keep inhaling!

1862 06-105 You’re a silly little girl.  Keep puffing!
1863 06-105 I think she’s ready for us, Mistress
1864 06-105 NOW she’s ready… Bwa ha ha ha ha ha!
1865 06-105 Since it can’t be real, there are no consequences!^

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, watersports, urination, and prostatestimulation themes at 06-105[X] Channah Thoroughly Ravishes Penance at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny have just had the magical experience of a lifetime, turning Penny into a futa as their privacy shield fell.  Uncharacteristically experiencing a devastating top drop after falling from the dizzying heights to which they had risen, Channah has jump-started them both again with her magic and is ruthlessly overcoming shy Penny’s reservations and thoughts of resistance at the prospect of being royally and humiliatingly romanced in front of an audience.  NOW:

Whether from trust in and a desire to please her Master, the intensity of the connection surging between them, the magical fountain pouring into her, or simply the raw force of Channah’s shoulders on her ankles and hands gripping her wrists, after a final little flutter of resistance manifested in an aimless, anxious wiggling of her extremities, Penny calmed down and stopped struggling, making her legs relax as much as she could so Channah didn’t have to strain quite as much.  Penny meekly accepted being virtually folded in half, whining and panting and moaning into Channah’s lips as she was able to relax her muscles to accommodate Channah’s insistent demands on her and comply with Channah’s pleasure. 

Helplessly, with Channah romantically ravaging her, with Channah’s demon tongue snaking deeply into Penny’s delicate mouth, with Channah’s energy surging through Penny’s chakras, and with Channah’s shoulders pinning Penny’s legs back at such an extreme angle she could almost suck her own toes, Penny started to cry out, her cheeks fiercely red with the shame of her willing, indeed cooperative and increasingly ardent, degradation before so many people.

“Beg more,” Channah slurred around their lips.  “Show them all what a shameless little hussy you are.”  And when Penny turned even redder instead of speaking:  “Confess your desires NOW!”

Sobbing, Penny begged, as wantonly and desperately as she could, absolutely in earnest because her silence had been the modesty of not wanting to reveal her truth, rather than a reflection of any inner calmness or perspective.  Because she had none:  By now, Channah was her whole world again, and pleasing Channah her whole and sincere purpose.

“Take me Master!” she pleaded, nearly crazed with the abandon, as much as arousal, of throwing all her own sensibilities and modesty to the winds in order to submit to her Domina and fulfill her Domina’s desires under such conditions.  Responding to Channah the way she commanded and demanded required her total surrender to her Domina, to her fate, to her shame, to her extremely public degradation because it allowed no half-measures.  There was nothing, not one shred of personal dignity or self-respect, that she could maintain and obey her Domina as she had to do and as she longed to do.  Her personality and feelings were being shredded into confetti by her Domina’s desires and the resulting conflicts tearing her apart.  “I don’t know what you’re doing to me Master!” She wailed hysterically, her voice muffled and interrupted as Channah kept kissing her and she kept kissing back.  “Ah!  Ah!  You’re—omigod, what you’re doing to me!  It hurts!  Why am I so eager, Master?”

“Because you’re a girl.  And I found the sweet girl spot inside you.  I—knew it was there!  I knew it!  I could tell!” she bellowed triumphantly.  “Some girls, a very few, are born that way,” Channah lied easily, enjoying scrambling her head as hard as she was her insides, “and now that I’ve finally found it, it’s brought your true self to the surface!”  She growled roughly, resting her forearms on her futa’s ankles to hold them down so she could use her fingernails to tickle her futa’s extremely sensitive and ticklish soles, watching Penny’s breathing turning into a desperate gasping sound, her head moving from side to side whenever Channah’s lips permitted as if she were searching for more oxygen.  Seeing Penny’s state, Channah allowed herself to use her tongue to gag her until she almost passed out from lack of air, just because she felt like seeing if she could. 

Channah reveled in her total power and command over her wiggling, wriggling, wailing, mindless futa love doll to which she had reduced a previously normal and clever boy.  But she knew there was more to it than that, the way she was feeling higher and higher and almost crazy with lust.  She was dimly aware she needed to stop feeding her own lust before she tore the girl limb from limb but she was loving the effect her magic was having on the girl, too much to stop feeding their connection just yet.  “It hurts a girl the first time, silly ninny,” Channah laughed, “surely even you know that much?  And a girl born like you, inside-out, I’m sorry, sweetie,” Channah laughed, “It’s gonna hurt a little bit every time.”  And Channah shivered with pleasure at the thought.

“I can’t stand it omigod ogod ogod I feel like I’m going to explode but I’m not even enjoying this!  Ohh… oh, no… It hur-ur-ur-ur-ur-ur-urts!  What’s happening to me?!?!”  she wailed and cried and shook her head and rolled her eyes and practically melted down into a puddle right in front of Channah’s devouring eyes, her warm, soft, passive, obedient body and over-the-top passion of agony and ecstasy all rolled up and intertwined together, bringing Channah to another emotional and physical peak.

The succubus threw her head back and howled like a wolf with glee, briefly meeting Miryam’s and Rivqah’s amazed, aroused, envious eyes.  Inspired, she barked:  “Oil.  Gallons!” tipping her head towards the smooth black stone past the edge of the mattress above Penny’s head, before she turned her attention back to her victim, nipping her bottom lip and tugging on it before smothering her in more kisses and stuffing her mouth again with demon tongue.  The Demon Queen relished the exquisite, delightful way her prey thrashed and bawled with painful confusion and panted and whined with passion all at once. Penny was utterly overwhelmed, unable to process all the conflicting, confusing, clanging sensations that were wracking her body.  “My body!  I hate it but I want it whatever you’re—I maybe—!  What’s happening to me, Domina?!  The things you do to me Master!  And now I’m….” she wept.  “I think I’m losing control!  I’m so ashamed!”

“You should be!”  Channah scolded her fiercely, looking down and laughing. 

Literature Section “06-105[X] Channah Thoroughly Ravishes Penance”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 105 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 979 words::Explicit 1078 words—Accompanying Images:  1860-1865—Published 2025-06-03—©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.

1852 06-103 I love you! f you love me, you’ll be a good little white rabbit
1853 06-103 Good white rabbits stay in their cages
1854 06-103 You DO want to be my good little white rabbit, don’t you?  Un-huh, yes, ma’am
1855 06-103 You want me in THERE? Alice giggled.  I’ll barely fit!

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity themes at 06-103X Consent Violations at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny have just had the experience of a lifetime, more than either of them could ever have imagined, touched with magical forces neither of them fully comprehends.  Penny is still lost in a daze.  Channah is consumed with a desire for more and cannot bring herself to let it end.  NOW:

Always grateful for her existence—once as an angel, now as a succubus—Channah loved herself, and her life, without suffering from either humility or disappointment.  And the combined flavors in her mouth—first, of the top drop, almost hangover-like in its intensity following the burning out of every single one of her nerves; and second, the crestfallen woe of being separated from Penny, were as unacceptable as they were unfamiliar.  Refusing to accept the intolerable situation, she did something she could not recall ever having done before, simply because she had never felt the need to:  She capitalized on her nature by using her powers to feed her own heat, feeling the low, struggling flame within her ripple dangerously before bursting into a full raging inferno.  Penny groggily began moving her head back and forth, her human body so much more shredded than Channah’s by the forces that had ripped through them, she needed more time and heat to come back.

Frantic for Penny’s consciousness to come back to her, and irrationally irritated with Penny for not responding faster than her species was capable of, Channah saw the girl’s soft, sticky little pastry curled between her legs, as delicious and unthreatening as a snail cooked in butter, and decided on a wicked plan to interest her and punish Penny for—whatever it was she wanted to punish for.  Promptly, considering it only from the lens of her own desire without even considering any negatives or what Penny would feel beyond what Channah wanted her to feel, Channah converted her intentions into action, snatching up Penny’s cage from where she had tossed it aside and locking it again.

Then Channah resumed her undulating motion, rolling her hips against Penny’s.  Her supernatural energy pulsed through both of them like an electrical current, even as Penny’s twister pulsed and squeezed, animated by Channah’s will to resume what it had been doing before, enveloping them in a pulsing rhythm more intense than nature could have achieved unaided.

Channah groaned before Penny was even back present with her, aroused to a fury by Penny’s tight little booty, and her peaceful feminine features. 

Penny’s peaceful feminine features…

Something about the phrase tugged at Channah’s mind until she gasped in amazement, incredulous at how long it had taken her to get past her own shell shock to register the obvious.

And just as Penny shook her head, blinking rapidly and focusing on Channah with a dreamy, loving, seductive smile that made Channah’s heart jump in her chest, Channah proclaimed, as genuinely as any pathetic human punter: 

“Penny!  I knew it!  I’m so happy!  You’re beautiful!!!  I’m so happy!  You did it!  And you’re MINE!!!”  She picked up Penny’s hands and laid them gently on her girl’s firm round breasts, urging her to feel them and marvel, praising Penny’s beauty and femineity, doing everything she could to help Penny assent to what had just happened to her.  Penny had to accept it, her new body and appearance, at a minimum—she must!  And ideally she would see the beauty and opportunity in it, which would turn Channah on even more, and would certainly improve Penny’s life and disposition from this point forward.

Penny gasped, looked shocked, and then turned fiercely, brightly, practically a luminescent red, her hands moving gently and automatically over her own breasts and nipples, hyperventilating again and squeaking:  “I turned into a girl!”

Channah wolf-whistled, aroused by her own magic but even more, she knew, by Penny’s distinctive, innocent speech and way of speaking, even as she embarrassed Penny and the Coven members laughed and applauded, understanding the importance of Penny’s acceptance and doing all they could to encourage it.  At the same time, they distracted Penny and drew her attention to them and caused her to squeak again, covering her new breasts with her hands.  At the same moment, both to control and distract Penny, and to satisfy her own soul if she had one, Channah rose up onto her feet, using her weight as leverage to kiss her girl forcefully again.

For a moment, Channah could see, Penny’s mind wanted to resist the swirling storm of natural and supernatural (and perhaps even unnatural) emotion around her and within her.  The Penny she had always been, wanted to cover herself, no matter the feelings roaring and raging through her, her eyes rolling around wildly in their sockets like those of a panicked horse, taking in the sights around her.  Miryam, Rivqah, Judah, Fang, and the other eight members of the Coven watched them with hungry, desiring, rapacious eyes and the tense posture of predators aroused by the sight of their alpha feeding on desirable prey, hopeful despite themselves and imagining taking their own turns.  Esmeray and Hong watched too, with their five blindfolded, bound jawari kneeling before them, Hong coolly appraising and evaluating with, Penny might imagine, just a hint of contempt in her eyes; and  Esmeray fierce and attentive, eyes darting everywhere, with the attitude of a parrot whose feathers have been ruffled reclaiming her dignity, half as unsighted to Channah and Penny in this moment as the blinded jawari before her.

With an incoherent noise of anxiety and alarm, Penny started to flail; but determined to make this moment last, and recover her equilibrium by fucking Penny again, Channah shook her head commandingly and murmured “hunh-unh!”, all with her mouth pressed against Penny’s.  Grabbing her girl’s hands, Channah pulled them up and set them to hold the back of Penny’s ankles, helping Channah pull on her own legs.  Channah shivered with delight at the way the sensations she was delivering overwhelmed her little girl, her eyes bulging.  Channah felt happy in her current, odd mood, even knowing her own magic was affecting her and, she realized (a much more serious risk, in her mind) trusting Penny—or herself with Penny—to let her guard down enough to allow herself to be affected by magic.

Literature Section “06-103[X] Consent Violations”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 103 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 993 words::Explicit 1247 words—Accompanying Images:  1852-1855—Published 2025-05-30—©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.

1844 06-101 Channah claims Penny as she has never done before
1845 06-101 Penny is Channah’s plaything now
1846 06-101 Pray all you like, Penny dear… it’s adorable
1847 06-101 MINE.  Questions?

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, orgasm, and prostateorgasm themes at 06-101X Consummated and Consumed (unabridged version) at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

INCLUDE PART IN PREVIEW FOR CONTEXT:  Channah is on top of Penny.  She couldn’t tell what Penny was babbling on about, and she didn’t care—doubting he knew, either.  She was doing what she needed to do, for her.  NOW:

Nor did anything that came out of Penny’s mouth thereafter, help to clarify anything except her surprise:  Penny’s speech was rapidly degenerating and sputtering into an incoherent, pathetic, inarticulate, jumbled mess of words and half-words and sounds that cycled between bafflement and submission and made no sense beyond that, conveying only one message, again and again and again:  how lost and confused she was in submission to Channah as Channah scrambled forward, asserting herself, her attentions to the weaker girl given a cyclical rhythm by Channah’s not-so-gentle efforts to protect Penny from chafing, repeating the sequence, Penny’s speech degenerating further and further, her wail rising to a higher and higher pitch, the unexpected intensity of exactly what Channah was doing, the very special place she had found and focused on preventing Penny from any traditional enjoyment, until—at the very second Channah reached her goal—

Penny made a screaming howl of mixed joy, surprise, and plaintive frustration, even as the privacy shield around them dissolved, immersing them back into hell.  The sights and smells were intense; the sound, overwhelming.  Of course, Penny did not know, but their solitude had begun to end when Channah started pouring oil on her, Channah’s coven bringing them swimming back into the visibility of everyone on the platform.  And even more importantly for the succubae’s purposes, at that same moment, the passion, intimacy, and degradation coming off them in waves like heat from asphalt in summer had begun forcing itself into the perception of the damned below.  By the time Channah had taken the next step, the chaos below had exploded into a maelstrom of sound and movement such as none of the ancient succubae on the platform could remember, staggering and shaking all of them to the core.

And in the moment Penny and Channah were done, together:

Pandemonium extremis maximus.

A madness like nothing any of them, human or demon, could have ever imagined.  Like nothing any of the succubae had even dared hope for.  The howls of the damned below topped out, interrupted by jagged screams of wildly oscillating pitch abruptly ending in popping and tearing noises, like popcorn popping and flesh being ripped away by raptors’ teeth, all at once. 

At first, Penny—and almost, almost Channah, as experienced and powerful as she was—were oblivious, lost in the moment and the intensity between them, their eyes locked, Channah’s burning with the power, hunger, and savage joy of the taker; Penny’s wide with the wonder and acceptance and dizzy peace of the giver.  Their shared sensations, and the pandemonium wave, were both so uniquely intense their bodies and minds had nothing to compare them to, and so at first they blended into a single sensation, changing in flavor but not intensity as it flooded them both.

Channah began to come back into some kind of focus first, whispering incredulous curses so vile and dark they could not be expressed in any human language, and therefore could not be spoken at all—only roared in a savage animal sound older and rawer than words, more dragon than human, as her hips slowed and her eyes closed, overwhelmed with the combination of afterglow and power refraction.  The waves tearing through her had the strength of a black hole’s gravity to spaghettify any sun or lesser celestial body within their reach.  A moment later Penny’s mind was able to begin its own return from its own bliss into something less pure and much more violent, savagely and intensely joyous, flowing through Channah and then Penny, a total connection that neither of them had experienced ever before, or could imagine experiencing ever again.

“The… Power!…” Channah gasped, stunned, sagging forward as Channah became something close to dead weight and Penny something close to unresistant and rubbery, the two of them so overwhelmed and full of pure light, water, fire, earth, and air rushing into them like all the energy and mass of the universe collapsing into a single black hole, they could do nothing—not act, not feel, not think, not even be aware.  Only by giving every ounce of themselves to it, they could just barely hold on and ride it out, surviving it with all the agency of an unconscious person carried racing through whitewater rapids.

Channah began returning to something like conscious, some kind of reasonable awareness, staring down on her girl’s closed eyes and open mouth, her heart pining in a way Channah was not familiar with; and she felt… lonely and devastated, human feelings she neither liked nor wanted.  She could tell her girl was still twenty thousand, forty thousand, and more leagues beneath the sea away from her.  Channah wanted to be with her now.  She ached for the connection they had shared when they went under the waves together, something she had never experienced before and wished she never had experienced, if the knowledge of what she was missing was going to make her this unhappy now.  Her heart, or whatever organ or part of her was capable of such neediness, insisted on—demanded to—have it back. She had to bring Penny back to her, surrounding her, enveloping and connecting with her and making her more than she could ever hope to be on her own.

With a cry, almost subconsciously, a pure reflex by her body insistent to reconnect rather than a conscious thought, Channah resumed her assault, wanting—needing—to be back where she had been a few moments before.  Her sense of incompleteness was total.

And she saw, instantly, the path for a succubus to achieve the connection she required.

Literature Section “06-101[X] Consummated and Consumed”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 101 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 936 words::Explicit 1026 words—Accompanying Images:  1844-1847—Published 2025-05-27—©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.

1836 06-99 Penny cannot believe the words coming out of her own mouth
1837 06-99 Penny begs for things she couldn’t have imagined

1838 06-99 Penny waits desperately for Domina’s decision
1839 06-99 I’ll do ANYTHING Domina

Explicit version containing penis, size, analpenetration, orgasm, piledriver, and masturbation themes at 06-99X Channah Knows How to Stretch a Penny at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Penny, lying open below her Domina, begs Channah to take her.  NOW:

“Wow, girl,” Channah snickered, impressed with her girl’s begging, pulling a jar from her pocket, removing the stopper, and dripping olive oil all over herself.  With every single drop that landed on her, Penny jerked and writhed and moaned with the need to release bottled-up energy.  “I’m impressed with you!  I sensed there was a raw, live-wire slut inside you, buried beneath all the layers of propriety and manners and civilization….  There were times when even I doubted my instincts about you, you buried yourself so deeply, but I shouldn’t have.  I knew it!  Didn’t I?  And now you’re my whore.  My slut.  My wanton, wanton girl.”  And then she snapped:  “Aren’t you?!”

“Yes, yes, I’m—I’m your t- your, I mean, Jezebel!,” Penny started bawling, her cheeks on fire, shamed and humiliated beyond all measure and reason, abasing herself and professing her disgraceful deepest desires as she had never done before.  And the worst part of all of it was being afraid, as the words came out of her mouth, that they might all be true.  “I’m a—I’m such a hussy,” she sobbed.  “Why why why I don’t know!  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I’m such a nymphomaniac.  But I need you.”  She looked and sounded shocked again:  “But-but I think it actually may be—I’m feeling a funny kind of way—Oh, Domina!  I—I think I really do!  I need you, Master!  I need to feel you warming me up inside, right to my heart!  Please Domina, make me complete!  Oh, please, please pleeeeeease…!”

Channah, meanwhile, was rubbing the olive oil into her skin, enjoying the feeling.  “Where—where do you want me to touch you?” she demanded, panting almost as heavily as her slave.  

“Where—where you did before,” Penny squeaked, hardly able to stand the sound of the words coming from her own mouth.  “Anywhere, Domina, anywhere you want, you know best!”  And she started moving her own hands lower. 

“Hunh-unh!”  Channah snapped, dropping an oily hand to slap Penny’s to one side.  “You had your chance, Ms. Modesty.  No more!  No hands!  You made your decision—keep your hands on your nipples, girlie!”

“I’m sorry, Domina, I was stupid!  Please, please let me change my mind, Domina!  Oh lord, please—I need—Please?!  You’ve got to—”

“ ‘Got’ to?  Are you trying to tell me what to do, bitch?”  Channah asked dangerously, raising her open palm as if she were going to slap Penny hard.  Penny moued, and her knees jerked as if she were fighting every instinct she had to keep them apart, but hold them apart she did, cringing while she did so.

“No—no of course not, I’m sorry, Domina,”

“No, ma’am, I thought not.” Channah shook her head, smirking commandingly, her voice at once much quieter than Penny’s, and much more authoritative.  “Good girl.  Try again. Do you command?”

“No, Domina, I—” and she realized she knew the answer already.  Channah had already told her.  “I beg, that’s all I can do, Domina!  I beg of you, please take charge of me!  I want it more than anything.  More than anything I’ve ever wanted!”  And in that moment, she was so deep in subspace, under Channah’s spell, that she believed it well enough to be true.  Penny whimpered and cried brokenly.  “Do what—what Roger did to you, Domina.”  She realized, with shock, that it was absolutely true, mortified to consider what it looked like, what it sounded like, and that for some reason she still wanted to be treated the same way.  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Mistress.  I want to be your baby-doll.”

Backing the rest of the way back so Penny’s feet weren’t under her knees anymore, and shaking out the rest of the bottle carelessly all over Penny, Channah shook her head.  “No. Not today… today I want it to be so personal.”

“Personal?”  Penny gasped.  Not understanding yet.

Channah laughed, a low, guttural sound.  “I’ll show you.”

Channah took hold of Penny.  “Please do!  Please show me!  Oh please do!”  Penny hyperventilated, as Channah dropped to her knees.

Penny flipflopped instinctively, panic piling back into her eyes as the reality of what was about to happen hit home, and wailed in a combination of need and fear.  “Oh please be gentle with me, Domina!”

Penny’s squeal rose to a full-fledged wail as she felt Channah touch her.   “Oh my goodness—PLEASE!!!!!”

Channah wasn’t sure what Penny wanted at this point and she doubted Penny had any idea, either.  But in any event, it was way past the time Penny might have had any say in the matter.  She was Channah’s totally passive receptive girl now, her entire existence defined by, even given by, Channah; her whole identity shrunk to the obedient, desperate, aching flesh being touched by Channah, even as she flooded Penny with another blast of the magical-sexual lightning that was the unique gift of the succubae.

Literature Section “06-99[X] Channah Knows How to Stretch a Penny”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 99 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 827 words::Explicit 1183 words—Accompanying Images:  1835-1838—Published 2025-05-24—©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.


1828 06-97 C’mon, whinny!  That’s a good little horsey!
1829 06-97 Ride me instead, please, Domina!
1830 06-97 Channah has Penny wrapped around something…
1831 06-97 Channah is the Queen of Penny’s heart
1832 06-97 Please let me be your sex-bunny, Master!

Explicit version containing intercourse, penetration, penis, and vagina themes at 06-##X Title at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  After using Penny, Channah has teased her mercilessly to a fever pitch.  Now she’s ready to close the deal.  NOW:

“Beg me for what I want, until you feel, no, until you know, with every fiber of your being, that it’s what you want, too.  No matter how long it takes.  And don’t you dare stop until I command you to!”

Penny groaned, turned to helpless jelly by her ruthless application of power and her unending hunger for Penny’s attention and obedience.  Channah’s desire to rule Penny, absolutely and powerfully, persuaded and confirmed for Penny just how much Channah cared about her, and how much she mattered to Channah.  Any lingering thoughts of looking for ways to resist or hold back, utterly collapsed into the ruins of Penny’s will, which now was only to do whatever it took to keep Channah happy. 

From the moment she opened her mouth she was begging with utter sincerity and a raw, unadulterated need that touched Channah’s heart through all the layers of armor and insulation she used to protect it, amplified perhaps, but not allowed in the first place, by the four magical bonds they now shared:  “Please, Domina.  Please!  I want to be your girl.  Please take me, I beg of you!  Please make me your girl.”

“How?” she demanded relentlessly, and Penny gave her another one of those enchanted, perfect moments unintentionally:  She couldn’t seem to figure out what to do with her own hands, knowing she was supposed to remain passive for Channah and wanting to be a good girl, but restless with the unspent energy crackling and curling in the ether around them.

Penny, her hands fluttering uselessly, wailed:  “Please, please—ohmigod,” Penny whimpered, a small, helpless, weak, ashamed sound before she forced herself to choke it out, trying so hard her voice came out in a scream:  “Make me a woman, Domina!  Please possess me, my Master, my Goddess, my Queen, my savior!  Please take me, Domina!  I beg of you!  I was meant to be your base, I know it, and you to be my captain and commander, I know that now!” 

She made a whining sound, and Channah seized the opportunity to interrupt her stream of self-abuse and command her further, rolling and grinding her boot into Penny’s stomach and solar plexus:  “Play with yourself,” Channah commanded, nodding to her fluttering hands, watching Penny turn into a tomato again.  “Your chest, ninny,” she laughed, knowing before Penny did what she would think because Penny was so desperately shy and so fundamentally uncomfortable with her own feelings, she had to be bullied every step of the way into showing them, or even allowing herself to admit and experience them.

Penny awkwardly placed her open hands on her chest, covering them like a modest woman caught without a bra on.  “Plea—” she started again, before Channah interrupted her, throwing back her head and laughing harshly:

“No!  Completely inadequate!  Move your hands,” she barked down at her girl.  And as Penny obeyed, she directed her every motion, coaching her until she became enthusiastic:  “No—alternate, your full palm with a light tickling with your fingertips.  Lighter… lighter!” 

“I—I love you, Mistress!”  Penny bleated.  “Domina!  Please!  Use me however you want, I want it, I swear, Domina!”

And when she saw goosebumps popping up on Penny’s skin she nodded with satisfaction, waving Penny to keep her mouth shut to let her talk.  “Take turns, using one hand to tickle yourself and the other to pinch your nipple…. Roll it between your forefinger and thumb.  Go on!  That’s good, baby.  You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Domina, I want to be, Master, I swear!”  Penny promised.  “I love you!  Please make me yours, I beg you…” it came out as another scream:  “NOW!  Use me very badly, please, Domina I beg you,” Penny was fully sobbing now, drawing in her breath with surprise as she realized, while recovering her breath, that her hands on her chest might actually feel good.  She met Channah’s eyes with a mortified, startled expression of having been caught out, blushing, but trying, not giving up.  Tentatively at first, and then with slowly-growing authority, turning pink with embarrassment but managing just barely to keep going, she lightly ran her hands over her chest and nipples, forcing herself to sigh deeply as she tried to relax.

“And keep begging!  More explicitly!  I want details!  Tell—me—exactly—what—you—want, bitch!”  Channah commanded, calm but emphatic and authoritative, as she stepped off Penny’s chest and then slowly, tauntingly, both of them knowing what she was doing, shuffling backwards over Penny’s legs, raising her skirt so Penny, afraid and appalled, but helplessly aroused to be so submissive, locked her mesmerized, horrified, bulging, lovestruck eyes on the evolution occurring there without even erasing her womanhood.  Channah paused, standing over Penny’s hips, trapping Penny’s feet under her knees.  “Until I tell you to stop, footstool!”  She dripped her contempt down on her girl, watching her slowly start to move her body, unconscious of what was happening, as she—the natural submissive inside her—started responding, more and more deeply, to Channah’s dominance.  Her hips were moving.  Her legs were still raised, helplessly and openly, like those of a chicken or turkey ready to be ripped apart and eaten by hungry diners around a dinner table.  They slowly waved, obscenely, as her hips moved, her hands still working on her chest, her shoulders rolling and her head shaking as if she couldn’t even believe her own lack of dignity and morality.  Her whole body was bobbing in time to her heart.  She was panting and grunting as she worked herself into a frenzy for her increasingly cruel and mean-spirited master:

“Put your body inside mine!” 

Literature Section “06-97[X] Penny Begs for It Like the Slut She Is”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 97 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 946 words::Explicit 1080 words—Accompanying Images:  1828-1832—Published 2025-05-21—©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.