CAUTION:  Contains themes of heavy degradation and filth some readers may find disturbing.

RULES OF THE CARD GAME THE CHARACTERS ARE PLAYING AVAILABLE HERE.

PREVIOUSLY:  Playing the demonic card game, Perdition Tarot, Channah has wagered Penny, Chas, Esmeray, and her other servants against Húanglóng; and everyone has wagered some combination of money, dares, and sacrifices on every trick and deal.  The doors have been sealed, the atmosphere is rowdy, the stakes are high, and everyone in the Lodge is intoxicated.  Queen Channah is descending into a dark mood for reasons other than, but somehow bound up with, the game.  After the other bets have been settled, Channah inserts marbles into Penny and Chas that she mysteriously promises—or threatens—will make them cleaner than they have ever been.  Now she leads them away from the rest of the gamers to prepare them for the frightening events to come.  NOW:

“Clothes off!”  Channah paused at the stairway, waiting while the girls stripped.  Taking their dresses, she almost led Penny and Chas further upstairs, but then shook her head, setting their dresses down on the upward flight and murmuring “better safe than sorry” as she led them downstairs instead, down the garden path, past the hot springs, where she commanded them to pick up soap and towels, and through a thick grove of ancient forest to a narrow defile, half-hidden behind an old āhuēhuētl tree, that cut down through the rocks to a small ledge five or ten feet below the cliff face where water from one or all of the springs spilled over the cliffs, forming a small and shallow pool in a bowl perhaps carved from the rocks by the water itself, before brimming over the lip of the small ledge to plunge down the face of the high cliff.

From the floor of the valley, perhaps the water revealed itself as a gorgeous and dramatic waterfall.  But from the dizzying height of the narrow ledge, it seemed to disappear down an infinite chasm, likely dissolving into spray and mist long before it reached the bottom.  If it ever did.  Chas gasped for breath, pressing herself back against the face of the cliff, the second the side of the defile slipped away to reveal the terrifying fall.

Channah laughed harshly.  “Not even the birds build nests here.  Only two reasons to come here,” she opined.  “To contemplate death, or do what you’re about to do.”

“What is that, Domina?”  Chas asked.

She just laughed in reply, enjoying keeping them wondering as long as possible, pushing Penny so she was pressed up against the cliff face with Chas, commanded them “Sit!” and then squatted before them, unfastening their cages, washing them in the water beside her before setting them on the rock to dry as she began to speak, her eyes flicking up to meet theirs firmly between concentrating on what she was doing:

“As you have no doubt already gathered, I’m off my game today.”

“I’m sorry, Domina,” Penny quavered, nervously but honestly.  “I can see you are upset.  Is everything all right?”

“No, I’m not,” she answered, surprising them with her candor.  “And I’m not sure.  I’m obviously going to lose every bet I place today.  Including, most importantly, my ill-advised—or possibly fated—bet with Húanglóng.  I do regret the consequences of placing it, although Penny, if you were more open to the pleasure that awaits you from surrendering, it would not have been necessary.”

“I’m sorry, Domina.”

“Hush.  You’re not.  Some, I know, but not sorry enough, anyway, despite my best efforts to make you so without spoiling your sweet disposition.  So many years’ training, and now I’m backed into a corner.  It was a reckless bet, but I’m not sure what else I could have done.  And again, I feel the hand of the fates at work here.  Revealed…” she hesitated.

“In your cards,” Penny whispered.

Nodding, she agreed:  “Especially so.  But not just in my divination hand—the entire deck.  You have to be ready in less than a month to serve a man eagerly, no matter what he looks or smells like.”

“Domina!”  Penny sounded as shocked as she was horrified.

“Try not to sound so surprised, sweetie,” Channah giggled despite herself.  “It’s charming, but it does make you seem a bit stupid at this point.  I mean…” she looked straight into Penny’s eyes, bursting out laughing when she looked away, reddening with shame.  “Really!  You’ve known I bought and bred you to be my whore for at least a week… and as clever as you are, perhaps a part of you has seen and feared it for years.”

“No.  No—”  Penny shook her head.

“Oh, dear,” she laughed, looking piercingly into Penny’s eyes and delighting with the shame she saw blossoming in her girl’s countenance.  “Your denial was just a little too emphatic, sugar bear.  An unmistakable tell.  That’s a direct hit, isn’t it, Princess?  Your cheeks, so red.  And you can’t even hold my gaze!” she thrilled.  “I love it so much I want to lick and eat you up.  That delicious shame…. I think it’s your very-most attractive quality, Pleaser.  It makes me hot and wet like a volcano every time.”

“Domina!”  Penny gasped, shocked by the intensity of her reaction and how much it revealed about the deep, intimate connection between them. 

“You know it’s true.  I see that,” she sniggered gleefully.  “Suspected so long, and still stayed with us and tried so hard to please us….”  She reached forward, taking Penny’s chin in her hand, to force the girl to look at her.  “Oh, you must despise yourself!  Don’t you, darling?  Fuck yesss….” She used her other hand to stroke herself.  “I can’t believe I’m about to lose you two for a week!  You better hope you don’t fall into my hands in the final deal of the game.  I want you two filthy-innocent sluts so badly….”  And then, in a sing-songy teasing voice, she chanted:  “Penny loves the Queen of Hell enough to be her eager whore….”

“Domina!”  Penny squealed in protest, squirming.

Channah threw her head back and laughed.  “Oh I wish there were a bit more time right now.  But I fear there’s not.”  Shaking her head and becoming businesslike once again, her tone became instructive:  “That’s your problem, darling.  Denial.  And your charm:  The innocence persisting and longing for a past so long-gone, it won’t accept the reality of corruption.  Perhaps the next week will help cure you of that.  After you’ve lusted so desperately for things you never imagined you could, it’s much harder to pretend it wasn’t you.”  She shrugged.  “Húanglóng has that effect.  All dragons do, Húanglóng more than any of them, of course.  And you’ll enjoy it, I promise.  If I had considered it acceptable for even a second to risk trusting you to the custody of another court I would have sent you to him years ago.”  And then, almost deliberately to cut off the question she could see forming on Penny’s lips, she preempted:  “How do you feel?”

“A little queasy, Mistress,” she conceded.  Then whispered under her breath, almost too quietly to be heard:  “From the disgusting conversation….”

Channah whooped with laughter.  “Oh, you wouldn’t dare sass me if you didn’t know I was in a rush, would you?  Let’s get you ready but don’t think you’ve gotten away with anything.  Now, dear, breathe deeply, this is both going to feel strange and it’s going to hurt, but I don’t have time to put you under this morning.”

“Put me—”

“BREATHE DEEPLY!” she reminded her girl, carefully positioning her right hand around Penny’s belly button and grasping her piercing firmly in her left hand as she closed her eyes, calming and composing herself and whispering something in a language neither girl understood as she pressed forward, a warm feeling emanating from her right hand seeming to loosen and relax Penny’s muscles so much she almost doubled over with the intensity and weirdness of the sudden loss of muscle control and sensation over a part of her body.

And then Channah ripped it out.

Really:  ripped.

It felt like a bandage being torn off a wound to which it had stuck, taking scab and healthy flesh alike with it; and sounded the same, not unlike tearing cloth.

Penny squealed, provoking Channah to smirk and shake her head, interrupting her chant.  “Please.  It’s not that bad.  Not a tenth as dramatic as putting it in in the first place, you big baby.  You won’t even have a scar to remember your piercing by.  If you let me get on with my spell.”  Then Penny’s squeal turned to a shout of shock and surprise—and Channah’s smirk to laughter as she tried to resume her chant—as Chas suddenly yelled, too.  As she pulled on the piercing, it came out…

And came out…

And came out.

Several feet of copper wire with small charms affixed to it at intervals, like a very long charm bracelet, but with the shapes molded into the same piece of copper as the wire itself rather than hanging free from it.  The charms were too small and bloody for the girls to tell what they were, but each one had a different, irregular, and quite deliberate-seeming form making it clear they were neither identical nor accidental.

“THAT was inside me, Mistress?!”  Penny screeched.

“Yes, dear, and you didn’t even know it, did you?  You never would have known it if this card game hadn’t gone so badly.  Or… if it was not necessary…” she mused as the last of it finally came out and she set it on the rocks in a shallow part of the pool beside her.  Channah kept her hand on Penny another good minute and a half, whispering, until she was satisfied; and with a quick nod, shifted to face Chas.  “I hadn’t planned this game.  But the sudden desire to play it was… overwhelming.  And I wasn’t expecting it, so… it’s even harder to avoid being manipulated when you don’t realize it’s happening.”

“Manipulated, Domina?  By… the fates?”  Penny breathed.

“Yes.  Destiny.  Prophecy.  Necessity, perhaps.  Call it what you like.”

“The cards,” Penny repeated her previous guess, nodding with conviction now.  And guessed:  “Death and The Devil!”

“Very good, smartypants,” she nodded.  “Or should I say, ‘smartyskirts’.  But not the only ones.  What made you notice those two?”  She asked, as she relaxed a second time, her right hand on Chas’s belly now, her left hand on Chas’s piercing.  Then she began whispering as Chas made a startled sound.

“I’m not exactly certain, Domina,” Penny admitted, shuddering sympathetically as she watched Chastity, stunned to see what was coming out of her body despite the fact she obviously had known what to expect.  “Instinct?  There were a series of cards in your first hand that you played strangely, almost like you were performing a ritual instead of playing a card game.  And…. Oh!  The Huángdì of Wands!  You played it around the same time in the first hand.  Then in the second hand, you played the Pharaoh of Wands first—even when you shouldn’t have.  Death and the Devil—they—they’re very memorable cards so I remember seeing them when you played them.”

“Me too,” Chas agreed, although it was unclear if she simply meant she remembered the cards, or if she remembered anything about how they had been played. 

Penny resumed:  “In both cases, you were terribly… intense.  Almost obsessed.  But… why are you removing—our chakra ornaments?”

After she had set Chas’s piercing in the same shallow puddle and finished chanting, she opened her eyes again and answered:  “Did you notice anything about the cards I played?  What was on them?”  And then she clarified:  “Who was on them?”

We were!”  Penny exclaimed in shock.  “Or—or at least, a blonde and a redhead.”  And then she whispered, either from amazement or shyness:  “Serving a powerful Succubus.  I—I thought I was… fantasizing it.”  Channah laughed, a sharp laugh of surprised, genuine pleasure as Penny turned bright red, realizing what she had said.  “Imagining,” Penny clarified.  “You know what I mean.”

“Perhaps better than you, Pleaser.  ‘Fantasizing.’  Not ‘imagining.’  I have your number fully now, what a horny little slut you are,” laughing even harder as Penny covered her eyes with her hands.  “And I love it that you’re still shy about it.  After the things we’ve done,” she shook her head, feigning shock.  As she rinsed the two piercings in the water, she continued, answering Penny’s most-recent question:  “Because you’re starting to figure some of this out, I’m going to tell you a bit more.  Not because I want you to know it, but because I want you to know how important it is to your own interests not to share a whisper of your speculations with anyone other than me.  Listen carefully, and take this seriously.  And keep it to yourself.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Domina,” they answered, swallowing and looking at one another, impressed with how serious she was.

“I’m going to tell you just enough, so you can be on your guard, before you say anything in front of others.  So you can protect yourselves and me.”

“From what?” Chas asked.  The fact Penny had not asked the same question should have suggested to Chas that Penny already knew the answer; but even if this had occurred to Chas, she would not have put together that Penny and Channah had previously had a previous discussion about this subject.  She would have assumed clever Penny had figured it out on her own.

“Am I dangerous?” Channah asked unexpectedly.

“Oh, yes, Domina!” They both answered unhesitatingly, without anything other than total sincerity.

“So if I have enemies—and I do—that I have been battling for centuries without vanquishing, they must be dangerous as well, mustn’t they?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“And if any of them realized how important the two of you were to my ambitions… what do you think?  Would you be safer?  Or…”

“In terrible danger,” Chas answered, nodding slowly to herself.

“Yes.  That’s why we’re having this conversation away from even my most-trusted lieutenants; because even they lack the powerful incentives to keep quiet about this that only the two of you share with me.  If my rivals come to even suspect two humans as weak and insignificant as you may have an important role to play in my fate… they would see you as my most vulnerable point, and exploit that.  Perhaps by killing you; perhaps by trying to turn you with magic or torture or blackmail; perhaps….”  She shrugged, unable or feeling it unnecessary to offer further alternatives.  “Do you understand?”  She hardly need have paused for their response; they were both, immediately, nodding earnestly. 

“Good.  Then listen well.  The two autumn leaves—I called them that because they appeared for the first time on the Death card, on All Hallows’ Eve, in 1517.  Just—long before—I met you.”  The girls exchanged an uneasy look.  That didn’t sound good.

“The cards are slippery.  Their destiny is to reveal the future, but they seem to fight that destiny as vigorously as I tried to fight mine today.  Or, perhaps, they are simply serving their own purpose in causing the events they are to tell by making us their pawns.  They do all they can to conceal what they reveal, and leave us all in confusion, looking the wrong way, so they can laugh at us afterwards and tell us ‘we told you so, fool (allusion to the Tarot fully intended, even required), and you should have listened!’  Only in hindsight are their messages clear.  There’s always a chance you two are…” she shrugged again, emphasizing her uncertainty and the powerlessness of every soul, “Nothing.  Nothing at all.  Or perhaps, originally, you were nothing—until, suspecting I might have recognized you in the cards, I plucked you up and made you a part of my story by reading, and then pulling, you into a prophecy that had nothing to do with you.  That’s Fate’s second-favorite trick.”

“What is its favorite?” Penny asked.

She laughed bitterly.  “To persuade you to engineer the very situation the cards are warning you to avoid.  They love to do that.”

“That’s… cruel,” Penny opined, as Channah reached forward to unfasten Penny’s collar, shooting her an intense, commanding, silent glare in response to her look of surprise.  Apparently, this was a secret within a secret, to be kept even from Chas.  And not for the first time, Penny wondered how many secrets of Channah’s surrounded her, woven by Channah through the people around her, cautioning them not to share with Penny, even as she was warning Penny not to share her secrets with them.

“Ironic, at least,” Channah proposed, even as the collar came off—something deeply unsettling to Penny because of its significance, and of how much she had come to expect it as a permanent fixture of her life.

Rubbing her neck while Channah washed the collar, Penny said, strangely:  “I—I feel… something.  Nauseated.  Empty.  Terribly—” her eyes met Channah’s.  “Lonely.”

Channah smiled, abandoning Chas for a moment to take Penny’s cheeks in her hands and pull her forward for a deep soul kiss.  “Yesss….” She hissed.  “I knew it.  I knew you were feeling what I was feeling.  Our—” she spared a glance at Chas, before composing herself and returning to remove the third girl’s collar “Our three souls, are fusing into one another, I as your Domina, you as my slaves.”  And she laughed ruefully:  “Either confirming the cards, or proving how very slippery they are.  “Do not doubt for a second my collars will return to your necks.  Or rather, that they will return you to your rightful places under my gorgeous infernal feet—when Húanglóng brings you back for the next heteraslakos next week.  These accouterments, and more.”

“More?”

“You have six chakras, ginger.  Two more to go, sealing our union completely, after these first four.  But you don’t even need them anymore to feel the basic connection between us, do you?  It will never leave us; it is already a part of who we are.  That, and the craving your soul has to cleave to mine ever-closer, emphasized by the loss of the even deeper connection lent by the collars, is the loneliness you are feeling.”  As as she washed Chas’s collar, she explained:  “The connection between us, longing for the intimacy and amplification brought about by the chakra accouterments.  Even I feel it.  Now—” she stood up, and pointed to the platform on the other side of the stream.  “Go stand over on that platform.”

“Why, Domina?”  Penny asked.

Get—over there—now!” she barked, stamping her foot, swatting their hips—and then their bottoms as they instinctively turned away from the blows—pointing insistently, staring down the girls until they obeyed her and cautiously made their way to the far ledge, hugging the cliff every step of the way despite the fact they had a good five or six feet insulating them from the precipice.  The platform was roughly a square, six feet on a side, defined on one side by the rushing water, a second by the cliff wall which provided the only sense of security, and on the other two sides by the abyss. 

Only after they were obeying did she explain:  “The loneliness you’re feeling is all about separation from me.  Magical separation, emphasizing—or more precisely, failing to compensate for—the physical separation that feels increasingly at odds with the spiritual connection between us.  But the nausea you feel is only partly at the isolation.”  She smirked a moment before becoming serious again:  “And Penny’s yummy shame.  Right now, the magico-chemical suppositories I placed inside you are finishing their work of dissolving everything inside your intestines and stomach.”  The girls looked at one another, worried.  “Well, except for the twister and the trigger, which will jell all by themselves when I command them.  And believe me, you want me to command them to do so, which I will do as soon as you’re in position.  Right now, they’re what are holding in your filth; but as your intestines churn more intensively…. They are ultimately tasked with not harming you, so they’ll allow you to vacate before anything more extreme happens.  But they will hurt like hell exiting your body if they’re forced out, without any further help from me.”

“Why?” Penny asked.  And Chas, simultaneously:  “How?”

“Now step to the very back of the ledge, furthest away from the edge, and squat down with your hands on the cliff wall.”

“Mistress!”  The girls whined with alarm and fear.  “Please!  Mercy!”

“Obey me and I will be merciful and jell your toys.  It’s hard not to experience what’s about to happen to you as unpleasant—”  Then, nodding her head thoughtfully, she qualified:  “Well, unless circumstances or spiritual darkness compel you to experience it a few times.  Then, I’m told, it can become quite addictive.”

What?!

She laughed.  “I know!  Humans are disgusting.  Point for today being, it’s unpleasant but not harmful or excruciating.  It won’t hurt a tenth as much as Fang’s paddling this morning.  It’s mostly the bad associations that make it unpleasant.  It’s hard for your mind not to experience it as the worst case of the flux you can imagine.”

“Mistress!”  The girls were almost crying.

“Good girls,” she laughed, enjoying their plight but pretending it was routine.  “The most important thing is to keep your mess there at the base of the cliff wall so the trigger and the twister aren’t swept over the ledge.  If they drop down there, you’ll spend the next week and a half after your return from Lytos searching for them.”

She shook her head, smiling, and sat down on a rock watching the girls shivering and whining and casting looks of fear at one another, then at her.  Bursting out laughing, she dried her hands on her dress while she cautioned them:  “Remember.  Do not let anything solid go over that cliff.”

“MISTRESS!”  They squealed in alarm, looking terrified, just before she smirked at them and relaxed something inside herself.

Immediately, their expressions melted into extreme discomfort.  “Oh no!” Chas yelped, as she became sick at both ends at once.

“Please look away, Domina!”  Penny begged, her face becoming agonized as she tried to resist what Chas had accepted.  “Privacy please—”

Channah sneered.  “Absolutely not!  It’s physically revolting, of course, and you should be disgusted and disgraced with what vile creatures you are.  So wallow in it, you dirty, despicable girls!  Go on!  Look at me while you void yourselves or I’ll whip you until I can see your bones!”  And when they obeyed her, she shuddered, her eyelids fluttering with the intensity of her arousal as she began rubbing herself, completely overcome with passion.  “Oh fuck I wasn’t planning to do this but occasionally I disgust even myself!”  She was laughing with the same intensity of their bitter tears, even as her body shook and jerked with one of the strongest orgasms they had ever seen her experience, a rolling orgasm that surged and subsided and surged again like waves on the ocean at high tide.  She could barely speak, half-grunting, and disturbingly, even shimmering back and forth between her human and demonic forms.  Most unsettling, in her intense state, the human and demonic forms, while similar to one another and all recognizable to the girls as their Domina Channah, were not the same.  As a demon she would have U-shaped horns, then curled rams’ horns, no tail that they could see, then a long one; and her human forms would vary between her usual obscene plushness and a grotesque, almost inflated fatness; then between olive and almond skin tones.  “Your shame is like opium honey to me,” she grunted, as she burst out laughing, unusually cruelly, which was saying something for her, as Penny, like Chas, started crying, shitting, and vomiting all at once.

Channah applauded and mocked them, their indignity, and their misery, when she could gather enough breath to do so between bouts of laughter so strong her efforts to breathe became a form of sobbing similar to her girls.  “This is horrific!  You’re the most disgusting, nasty, filthy mud-fountain whores I’ve seen in—years!  Lilith and Cain, I LOVE BEING SUCH AN EVIL NASTY BITCH!  OH FUCK!” 

By the time it—orgasm for her, flux for them—was more or less over, Channah was slumped back against her rock, staring off into space with glassy eyes, while the girls were quietly sobbing with their misery and humiliation.  It was several minutes before Channah finally took a deep, relieved breath and, apparently too fatigued to stand, practically crawled forward to wash her hands once again in the stream, before drying them again on her dress.  “Ohhh… thank you, girls.  Your mortification was so hot.  I love to see you suffering, emotionally and physically at once.  If you can train yourselves to get aroused while you’re suffering that way—” she ignored the girls’ noises of shocked protest—“You’d really learn to endear yourselves to me.  Now, set your triggers and twisters in that little pool there for safekeeping, but stay over there, well back from me and the stream, until you’re done.  Well—more precisely, until I’m satisfied you’re done.”

“We’re not done yet?!”  Chas asked incredulously, amusing her again. 

“In the main, my darling bimbette.  But to be safe, I’m going to give your tummies and bowels a few minutes to settle and finish whatever activity they may have remaining in them, while you attend to what I’m explaining.  We must be absolutely sure that you’re both done and pure.”

“Mistress….” Penny whined.  “I can’t stand myself!  Let alone—”

“Good!” she snorted.  “You can’t imagine how much that pleases me.  Do you disgust yourselves?”

“Yes, Domina, “they admitted miserably.

“Tell me.  Tell me!”

“The smell—it’s terrible.  And my skin—even the rocks around us—this is worse than Sodom!”  Penny bawled.

“I’m certain I’m going to be sick all over again—every minute I have to kneel here!”  Chas wailed, proving her words with a dry-retching sound that momentarily cut off her ability to speak. 

Channah whooped.  “That’s perfect!  You girls are a delight to me.  Although clearly I’ve been treating you too well.  But have a thought for your betters, Miriam and Rivqah.  Stop thinking about yourselves, and start thinking about them!  They’re going to have to kiss your nasty bottoms when we get back to the game, aren’t they?”

“Yes, Domina,” the girls admitted, surprised to remember it, or perhaps even to start to suspect it might be an actual possibility.

“And they deserve the very best, don’t they?”

“Yes, Domina!”

“Certainly, better than you two.  Just as I do.  So show us all the proper respect for our relative stations and have the patience to make certain you are clean as a whistle before we have to touch your nasty bodies.”

“Yes, Domina,” they mumbled in shame.

“Turn and face me, and get down on your knees and elbows in a proper posture of respect.”

“But the surface of the rock—” Penny began, gesturing unnecessarily at the spray of liquid filth polluting every inch of the stone around them, almost to the edge of the pool and stream.  Meeting the unexpectedly implacable and dark fury in Channah’s eyes, she started, even before Channah growled:

“One more bit of sass or resistance of any kind out of you and I’ll make you lick that entire side of the ledge clean with your tongue before I allow you to wash yourself.  If I sense anything other than gratitude and unqualified respect from you, you’ll have nightmares for a year from the things I force you to do in the next two hours.  Do you understand me, Penance Batonnoir?!

“Yes, Domina!” Penny corrected herself, and her attitude, with an alacrity that clearly pleased Channah, an ugly smile blossoming on her face at how genuinely cowed Penny was as she watched Penny scramble to assume the specified positon.

And after pausing and staring her slave down, she hissed:  “Lower.  Spready your knees and your elbows so your hips—and especially your nose—are half as far from your stinking corruption as they are now.”

 “I’m so sorry, Domina, I swear it, I’ll be better!”  Penny fell over herself to show how contrite she was, and how bereft of the hubris that often made her try to act better than the chattel slave she was.  “I’ll be a good girl, Mistress!  Thank you for this chance to apologize and do better!  Thank you, thank you, thank you, Domina, I’ll be your good girl!”

“Of course!”  She crowed with satisfaction.  “You’re such a prissy, affected little snoot I should have guessed it!  Now I have another way to control you when I really want to.  Or how to punish you.”  She laughed meanly when Penny moaned fearfully, continuing to revel in her own power, and rub Penny’s nose in her own helplessness and lowliness, so to speak.  “Thank you for being so thoughtless and stupid as to reveal another profound vulnerability to me!  Now I have two:  Pain… and filth.  One day, perhaps we’ll have a test to see which one breaks you faster.  Unless you can continually impress me with your devotion and submission.”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny whispered fearfully, her voice shocked with horror.  “That won’t be necessary, I swear it!”

“You should be grateful I’m consigning you to my husband’s control.  I advise you to sink completely into your desire to surrender to him, and learn how to embrace the benefit and blessing of willing surrender, before I waste another minute on you.  Otherwise, you will find it very emotionally stressful to serve me with the level of meanness and humility I will require.”

“Yes, Domina, I’ll try, Domina, I promise!”  Penny babbled.  “Thank you, Domina!”

“And your lowly position is thoroughly appropriate.  You should be humble.  I am about to reveal to you my destiny, and yours.  Your place in this world.  Your significance, such as it is, here; and the meaning and purpose of your existence.”

Channah felt inordinately pleased with herself. As the girls knelt, shivering and miserable, their guts still cramping and their nostrils and eyes assaulted and assailed by the evidence of their lowest form—and how easily she could reduce them to it—she, their master, relaxed easily on a clean rock in a fresh warm breeze, overlooking a beautiful deep valley on a fresh morning, pulling a piece of cloth and a lacquered box from the folds of her robes.

Literature Section “07-41 Filth and (Mis)Fortune—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 41 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4994 words—Accompanying Images:  2510-2521—Published 2025-11-18—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

RULES OF THE CARD GAME THE CHARACTERS ARE PLAYING AVAILABLE HERE.

PREVIOUSLY:  Playing the demonic card game, Perdition Tarot, Channah has wagered Penny, Chas, Esmeray, and her other servants against Húanglóng; and everyone has wagered some combination of money, dares, and sacrifices on every trick and deal.  The doors have been sealed, the atmosphere is rowdy, the stakes are high, and everyone in the Lodge is intoxicated.  Queen Channah, well-known for and quite intent on maintaining her reputation as a good sport who pays her debts, is descending into a dark mood for reasons other than, but somehow bound up with, the game.  After impulsively commanding their servants to satisfy them sexually, the second round of play is about to begin.  NOW:

The eight demons resembled lizards in the sun, lying motionless and relaxed with their eyes barely open.  Beneath and before them—or in Esmeray’s case, near them and with more determination than anyone else—their human and cambion servants waited, carefully still, determined not to disturb their masters or be the first to draw attention in the slowly-stretching stillness and silence.  By the time the succubae, incubus, and dragon began stirring, the open-air design of the house was working its magic, clearing and re-energizing the stale atmosphere around them.

Channah and Húanglóng, whether from superior constitution or the call of duty, came back to life first, Channah immediately glancing to her part of the table, looking for her hand of cards.  “Do you have our cards, Tifaret?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Tifaret stretched as she answered, fishing their hand from a pocket sewn into her dress.

“Very good.”  Channah stood up, rearranging her own dress and speaking to Penny:  “Once Tifaret releases your legs, bring us more wine and water.  And maybe a sna—” stepping away from the nonresponsive Penny, she looked down and realized she was unconscious, passed out in the stillness that had followed their lovemaking, her mouth open and her eyes closed, snoring quietly.  Drawing her foot back to prod her, she thought further on it and turned to Esmeray.  “You owe me.  You owe us all.”

“Yes, Domina,” Esmeray agreed hastily, scrambling to her feet, acknowledging her debt.  “Wine and water for everyone, immediately!”  

Channah continued to stare down at Penance, hands on hips, considering what to do with her.

“Perhaps best to leave her alone, Your Majesty,” Fang offered.  “Frankly, I think we’re lucky she hasn’t gotten sick.”  She giggled.  “The stakes are higher than her constitution is prepared to tolerate.  I was sure illness was where she was headed.  Perhaps we can wake her up for the next deal, and spank her after everyone has their cards?”

“Spank–?  Oh, yes,” Channah chuckled quietly.  “Or earlier, when it’s time for her to kiss my ass.”  Suddenly she looked back at the table, then shrugged in resignation to see someone—most likely Esmeray—had beaten her to the humans’ hand, forestalling any possibility of securing her victory now.

After a moment’s consideration, she nudged Penny awake with her boot in her groin; and when that didn’t work, she reached down and twisted her hair, yanking her head up, slapping her cheeks, and finally pinching her nostrils shut until the girl’s confused eyes opened and she gasped for breath.  She staggered back up into her seat, urged by Channah’s insistent hands, blinking and moving like one entranced and sitting quietly where Channah put her.  Not disinterested—her eyes followed the activity around her—but subdued.  Fang reminded her she had an empty chamber pot under her seat if she felt sick.

When everyone was back in their places, they played the second deal.  Everyone sensed the dark mood gathering in Channah from the moment she saw her cards on the first deal, getting even stronger as she played.  And she played terribly, making egregious errors.  Those who had gambled with her before knew something was amiss—something other than losing at cards—guessing by simple process of elimination what the nature of the problem was, if not its exact form or portent.  Cards only served two purposes, after all.  Nor did she seem frustrated or angry, as a bad loser might be expected to seem; but deeply pensive instead.  Still, it meant she wasn’t in the easy, approachable mood she usually maintained at cards; and now everyone at the table except Húanglóng found themselves second-guessing how their sovereign would react to unwelcome news.  And in Húanglóng’s case, the similarly tricky task of second-guessing his wife’s reactions.

“Are you… throwing the deal?!” Húanglóng finally blurted out, astonished.

“Never!”  Rivqah and Miryam blurted out, angrily, as Channah opened her mouth with a sour—but shocked—expression, ready to answer.

“Wait!  Don’t answer that at risk of cheapening the stakes!”  Húanglóng prevented her from answering by raising his hand sharply, glaring at her until she closed her mouth firmly, her irritation plain in her expression.  “This is a chance I’ve been waiting for ever since I heard the stories about the orgy with Claudius—”

Channah cracked a smile despite herself, shaking her head “No.  No!”  While Miryam and Rivqah both giggled.

“Wait, let me finish!  If you’re not throwing the deal, I’ll cover your bet.  But if you are throwing the deal, you’ll give him the Claudian Forked Tongue.”  The entire table gasped, shocked and titillated at once.

Hearing the intensity of the table’s reaction, Chastity dropped what she was doing and looked sharply around the table.

Meanwhile, Miryam was shouting:  “Slanderer!” genuinely upset at Húanglóng’s suggestion.

“Our Mistress would never throw a game!”  Rivqah amplified.

“You must be higher than my little redhead,” Channah laughed at Húanglóng.  “How am I supposed to respond to that without cheapening the stakes, revealing the answer by my own, before you say ‘done’?!”

“Fuck.  Maybe Kadidia’s remarkable laudanum is stronger than I had realized,” Húanglóng conceded.

“He probably would have agreed anyway!” Judas snickered.  “You missed an opportunity there.”

“I’ll take the bet!”  Miryam and Rivqah both slammed their fists down on the table loyally, looking at one another with surprise.

Miryam blurted:  “But you’re covering for my—our—bet, not the original bet!”

“Second!” Rivqah insisted.

“Fine!  Done!”  Húanglóng brought his own palm down, followed in rapid order by Channah’s devoted ladies.

“WAIT!  Foul!  Or—spoiled bet—or—”  Channah looked frustrated with her inability to identify the correct phrase.  “Whatever. Point being, this is a bet that cannot be made without my consent!”

“‘Missing party,’” Fang supplied the correct objection quietly.

“What she said!” Channah snapped her fingers for emphasis, glaring at Húanglóng with a faint twinkle in her eyes.

“NO!  No harm, no foul!” Húanglóng insisted.  “You can’t complain about a bet merely because you benefit from it!”

“I—I—” Channah scrambled for words. 

“HA!” Húanglóng pounced, as if he’d just completed a brilliant mathematical proof. 

“I will be harmed!”  Channah insisted.  “My reputation is on the line here!  Was I too subtle in assuring Princess I’m no sellout that you don’t see my credibility is what’s truly at stake here?!”

“Oh, bother!  But I’m sure we can find a solution to buy you off,” Húanglóng suggested.

“Your Majesty, with respect, that’s not enough—Penny is also a missing party!”  Chastity blurted, stoutly and bravely, everyone at the table looking first at her, then at the dazed Penny.

“The blonde bimbo lacks standing to object!” Judas shouted. 

Húanglóng blinked.  “Exactly!  She’s not a part of this bet!”

“Then I—I object,” Penny added, frowning as if she were trying to figure out what she was objecting to.

Fang’s eyes glittered.  “You’re standing up for your teammate, is that what you’re saying?” she asked, quietly and calmly, with a confidence that would have given Chastity pause if she were closer to sober.

“Yes, Your Grace!” Chastity swallowed, looking nervous.  And then, when the entire table whooped with delight, and even Channah looked intrigued out of her foul mood, Chastity looked terrified.  “What?”

“I’d say it’s a pity that by my calculation, just as Her Majesty says, her consent is required here,” Fang shrugged.

“Well… as reluctant as I am to consent, the stakes have been raised through the roof, now I kind of feel torn…” Channah mused.

“Consent!”  Judas urged her immediately, chanting:  “CONSENT!  CONSENT!  CONSENT!”  Looking around the table and making encouraging gestures until almost everyone who wasn’t human, was clapping or pounding on the furniture and chanting with him.

Trying ineffectively to smother her smile, Channah raised her hands for silence.  “QUIET!”  And once she had it, she chortled.  “I’ll consent on two conditions:  I get to defend my honor by warming them up first, and they be purged and purified first.”

“Ohh…. Fuck,” Miryam cursed, the look of confusion and hurt on her face mirrored by Rivqah’s, even as almost everyone else in the room slammed their fists down with an enthusiastic “DONE!”

“You said you were standing up for your teammate!” Húanglóng took Chas by her long blond hair and shook her head.  “Say ‘done!’”

“Your Majesty, I—I—” Chastity looked terrified.

“Her point was that Penance is incapable of agreement,” Esmeray interjected, calmly but not entirely happily.  “She agreed to stand up in Penny’s place, but it was to assert her incapacity, Mistresses and Masters.”

“Ah-ha!”  Judas thundered, nodding confidently, as if he’d just come up with a definitive explanation of the motions of the heavens.  “But she did agree to stand up for her!  And she IS capable of consent!”

“Regrettably,” Kadidia growled, “Much as I hate to admit it, I’m certain that doesn’t make any sense, Judas.  You’re as addled as the rest of us.”

“Fuck,” Húanglóng grimaced, turning Chas’s terrified face so he could glower at her at extremely close range.

“But Esmeray can agree on behalf of her team,” Fang suggested quietly, the same glitter in her eye as when she had trapped Chastity a few minutes earlier.

And instantly, the demonic and cambionic eyes in the room all swiveled to focus on Esmeray.

“No, I’m sorry,” Esmeray shook her head firmly.  “They’re my teammates.  And I’m their qahramanah.  And I don’t know… what this—‘forked tongue’ is.”  And, faced with the stony, unflinching gazes and silence of the rest of the room, she shrugged and spread her hands.  “It sounds bad!

“That’s fine,” Channah agreed quietly.  “You’re standing on the rules of the game.  And you’re entitled to do so.”  And after a momentary pause for emphasis, she continued:  “As are we.  Henceforth, we all shall expect your strict compliance with the rules.  No more special consideration.”

“Hear hear!” the other succubae applauded, with an undercurrent of special enthusiasm.

“This game is getting better and better,” Kadidia murmured, expressing the sentiment of the crowd.

“Yes.  It.  Is,” Húanglóng agreed decisively.

Esmeray looked physically ill.  “Please—Mistress—Mistresses—I—”

“Please, Mistress, don’t force her!  I’ll consent,” Penny interjected, glancing back and forth between Channah and Esmeray.

Channah shook her head.  “Your and Chastity’s ability to give consent have been challenged.  So it must be Esmeray.”  And lied vindictively:  “This is, after all, a matter of honor.”  Glaring into Esmeray’s terrified eyes, she continued:  “Fang, why don’t you go first.  Assuming Húanglóng’s consent to cheapen the stakes, spank her teammate as savagely as you like,”

“I consent,” Húanglóng agreed quietly.

“And then I’ll deliver on my promise.  I think the Claudian Forked Tongue is easily within the parameters of the bet already made.  I expect I can remember what I did in Rome.”  Her gaze remained, unblinking, on Esmeray.

“Oh, all right, Mistress!”  Esmeray burst out, looking miserable and ashamed.  “I agree!  We agree!  I’m sorry, Mistresses and Masters—please!  Please, we agree!  Done!  Done!  Done!”  she pounded her palm on the table three times.

Channah smiled at her, a terrible and cold smile showing she was not ready yet to forget, let alone forgive, and hinting at the possibility of retribution to come, as the rest of the room whooped in delight.  “Then let’s finish the hand,” she suggested, her quiet voice dripping with malice.

At the end of the deal, Esmeray and Penny had won the hand again; and Channah had come in dead last, despite a notable improvement in her playing after the side-bet.  Her mood was pushing the atmosphere of anxiety to even greater heights.  Tifaret did her best not to whoop and crow as she raked in the other players’ antes, all too aware what a mood Channah had been in even before Esmeray’s brief flare of defiance had pushed her into worse.  Players and lovers alike shifted uncomfortably, hesitant to predict what Channah would do next.

Blinking and realizing the hand was over, Channah shook her head and snorted.  “It’s time to perform, isn’t it?”  Sighing, she confessed what several at the table had figured out when she gave her conditional assent to the bet:  “I wasn’t throwing the game per se.  Not on purpose.  Rivqah, Miryam, I am ever-grateful for your unswerving loyalty.  I would never have meant to throw a game And all of you—I apologize for letting the side down.  I suppose—I was trying to resist the Wheel of Fortune.”

Several demons gasped at the confirmation, even though it was of something they had suspected.  The humans all seemed, to different degrees, confused, fearful, curious, or—in Esmeray’s case—guilty.  “With predictably poor results,” Channah amended.  “I suspect—no, I’m sure—the fates were forcing my hand.  And I was momentarily focused on trying to resist them, not playing to win.”  Shaking her head as if to clear it, she snapped:  “Let’s satisfy honor first, and continue this discussion before the next deal, when our dealer is fully conscious again.”  Heading toward the door, she snapped:  “Jacob, Oliver, Hong, and Huifen—with me.  Fang, would you like to wake her up, while I find the girls’ kits?”

“Very much so,” Fang smiled evilly, crooking her finger at Chas, who gasped and raised her hand to her breasts questioningly.

“You and your little companion can both drape yourselves face-down over that divan,” Fang pointed.  “Tight against one another, like you’re two peas in a pod.”

“But—Mistress—” Chas sputtered, as Penny managed to look indignant through her frustration at the injustice of what was happening around her.

“But what?” Fang asked distinctly.

“Yes, Mistress,” Chas blushed, hurrying to obey her to cheers and applause.  Esmeray, unbidden, her head down refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, helped the girls reposition the divan; before scurrying to take the chamber pot and set it directly under Penny’s face in case she got sick.  Although she made a couple of incoherent noises, she appeared to remain asleep even after she had been moved into position.

“Go on, tight up against Penny,” Fang sang, with a suggestive push on Chas’s ribcage.  Humming merrily after asking Boubacar to fetch her another glass of wine, Fang carefully pulled up each girl’s dress, leaving their bottoms and even their backs bare, before raising her own dress and settling daintily onto their backs, skin to skin, centered between them with her legs spread to the outside of both girls’ hips.  Still humming, she rubbed her hands lasciviously over both girls’ buttocks, thighs, taints, and purses, sharing a conspiratorial smirk with her audience and giggling at the way the girls shivered and sighed from Fang’s gently teasing fingers.

Channah returned to the room, alone, as Fang began swatting her victims’ backsides, slapping her palms against their buttocks, left, right, left, right.  First striking the girls’ inner cheeks, then their outer ones; third using her right hand against Chastity, under her right leg, then her left hand against Penance, under her left leg; fifth using her right hand on Penance and her left on Chastity.  She varied her blows unpredictably, hard smack then soft pepper, fast-drumming in sequence then slow-falling and brushing against their flesh in leisurely fashion.  The only consistency was the average intensity over the course of her overall arc, beginning mildly and growing steadily heavier, like a gathering thunderstorm.

Beneath her, Chastity remained stoic and still for a long time; while Penance quickly began to respond to her punishment with twitches and moues, rapidly escalating to jerks and whines, then outright struggles and cries.  “I’m sorry, Chas,” Penny whispered, embarrassed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong!” Chas assured her back, also whispering.  “You didn’t do anything.”  It wasn’t that either of them believed they could keep their exchange private; but simply that it was private, directed to one another, not wanting or inviting input from anyone else in the room.

Their audience seemed torn, between staying where they were to enjoy the slow, steady pinkening of the sacrifices and the irregular, unpredictable dance of Penny’s hips and legs as she tried unsuccessfully to remain still; and shifting their chairs or simply standing behind Fang to watch the girls’ faces turn red and their expressions grow increasingly stressed.

“I offer anyone a Hate the redhead starts crying first!” Judas called out.

“That’s a sucker’s bet, if I’ve ever heard one!” Kadidia replied, over a chorus of guffaws.  “No one’s going to accept that.  But I will bet you Fang can make blondie cry, too!”

“Fine.  Done!” Judas responded as they slammed their hands down.

Fang laughed, and without pausing or showing any disruption to her assault, bantered:  “I’m insulted!  I should object on the grounds of nonconsent, but I’d much rather insist on my right to take Kadidia’s bet.  And triple it!”

“Yes!”  “Outstanding!” the crowd applauded gleefully.

“Fine!  It will be worth it to see you win!” Judas conceded.

“May I at least gamble on how long it takes Penny to cry?” Kadidia began.  But barely before she finished her sentence, Penny started crying, provoking a round of laughter and mockery.  “Never mind!”

“I think that slave is defective!” Tifaret shook her head.

“In so many ways,” Rivqah snorted.

“You have no idea,” Channah concurred.

“She’s defined by her shortcomings,” Miryam elaborated, chortling.

“I can see that!” Tifaret agreed.

“We can all see that!” Húanglóng laughed, applauding.

“Esmeray, be a dear and hand me my shoes,” Fang commanded as she reached down to wrap her finger and thumb around the base of Penny’s scrotum, squeezing hard and stretching it backwards out from the protective globes of Penny’s buttocks to where she could reach it. 

“Yes, Domina,” Esmeray obeyed her, kneeling before her and gently removing her high heeled sandals, waiting patiently until Fang, holding Penny’s scrotum stretched back hard between her finger and thumb, used her free hand to take the shoes and set them on the table in front of her. 

“It is a tiny little thing, isn’t it?” she asked rhetorically, swatting hard and then—with a predatory, triumphant expression—using her long fingernails to jab Penny’s balls and delighting to hear Penny’s cries grow louder and more urgent.  “And getting smaller.”

Choosing one, she held it by the heel and used the flat, hard sole to slap Penny’s scrotum, over and over until she was bawling up a storm, before jamming the heel into the soft, spongy flesh for good measure.  “You do know that, don’t you, missy?” Fang asked.  “Long-term chastity makes your little penis even littler.  And softer.  Some girls lose their ability to get hard at all,” she smirked, making eye contact with her audience as Penny whimpered between screeches.  Finally, when her sack was as red as her bottom, Fang reached back around her to look down at Penny “Open up!” she commanded, shoving the heel into Penny’s mouth and warning:  “Hold it gently with your lips.  Don’t you dare scratch my beautiful shoe with your nasty teeth!”

Penny made a sound of obedience as best she could manage as Fang took her other shoe and repeated the same process on Chastity’s scrotum, only harder and longer to win her bet—elevating the level of intensity, and thus pain, until she was satisfied with the agony expressed by Chastity’s crying mouth and flailing limbs.

When Esmeray, still seeming guilty, finally said:  “I see tears, Domina!” the room cheered.  Fang visibly relaxed, making the weeping Chastity hold her other shoe as she resumed her more-conventional spanking.

“I suppose I’m holding up the game,” Fang offered.

“It’s quite all right, dear, we’re all terribly amused,” Kadidia responded.

“Only—I feel—I need to finish their discipline properly!”  And then, addressing her charges, she cautioned them with a series of particularly-heavy slaps:  “And—neverever!—drink from my glass without permission AGAIN!  Do.  You. Understand?!”  She demanded.  At the same time, she accelerated her attack into a frenzy of blows, until they were whining and moaning urgently and emphatically around the shoes in their mouths.

“Good!  I think they’re sufficiently contrite and awake for—whatever it is—you have planned, Your Majesty,” Fang offered.  “And Penny didn’t even get sick.  Yet.”

“Thank you my dear,” Channah replied, standing, picking up the two wooden boxes she had collected and starting around the table towards them.  “I hate to disrupt you—” she began.

“Your slavegirls are most comfortable, Majesty,” she conceded, rolling her hips sensuously as if testing them. “And their skin is soft as lambs’ wool.  I will miss their backs warming my bottom.”

“Please, keep them there in position for me another moment.”

“Happily.  Although I’m not sure if they’ll miss my hands warming theirs quite as much!”

“Not yet!”  Channah suggested.  “But given enough time and conflicting messages….”

“It’s quite common,” Fang agreed; “If you’ll give me that much time with them.  I have the impression you plan on keeping them busy….” and cooing, she stopped slapping and started stroking them, quite gently and entirely skillfully, right up and down their cracks, taints, and scrotums, causing them both to bloom with goosebumps and moan from the unexpected and undeniable pleasure.  “Any animal can be domesticated,” Fang finished her thought.

“Especially the weak and pliant,” Channah added, approaching them, setting the boxes down, setting Fang’s shoes down on the floor below their heads, and holding two marbles in front of their mouths, one copper and one gold.  “Speaking of which… open up, girls.  Go on.  Unless you don’t want the lubrication?”  The room laughed as the girls swiftly popped the balls in their mouths, hanging their heads in shame.  “You’re right of course, Fang.  I do have work for them, starting with the King’s upcoming visit.  I expect these girls to be the toast of the court.  Several courts.  And the heteraslakos.  I demand it, really, after all the training and pampering they’ve received.”  And then, frowning, she spoke to them again:  “Time’s up.  Drop it, doggies!”  She sneered as the balls fell into her hands.  “Yuck.  Bad puppies, drooling so much.”  Stepping around Fang, she expertly popped the two balls into the girls’ bottoms, goosing each of them for good measure as she wiped her hands across their red, inflamed backsides.  “Pound those in for me, will you Fang?”

“Certainly, Mistress,” Fang replied, half-slapping and half-punching the girls right on their vulnerable cracks, even as Channah moved around them again and snapped her fingers, before shoving them in their mouths.  “Clean!”

Patting their bottoms proprietarily, and promising:  “I look forward to doing this again with you girls for real on the heteraslakos!” Fang stood, commanding the girls:  “My shoes.”

“And thank your Mistress for spending her valuable time correcting you!”  Channah reminded them, watching approvingly as they kissed her toes murmuring their thanks, slipping her high heels back on in turn.

Fang petted each of them on the head, as if they were pets who had performed a trick successfully, before releasing them to Channah, who turned on her own heel and headed toward the door, breezily commanding them:  “This way, girls!” without pausing, leaving them to scamper after her.  And with a throaty, unsettling laugh, she promised:  “We’re going to make you cleaner than you’ve ever been in your life.”

Literature Section “07-40 Dangerous Games:  Wrecked and Reckless”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 40 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—3873 words—Accompanying Images:  2503-2509—Published 2025-11-11—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

RULES OF THE CARD GAME THE CHARACTERS ARE PLAYING AVAILABLE HERE.

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah has wagered Penny, Chas, Esmeray, and her other servants against Húanglóng in a demonic card game, Perdition Tarot.  The doors have been sealed, the atmosphere is rowdy, and Channah is frustrated after coming out of the first deal badly.  Now it is time to double down on their bets and play again.  NOW:

“You’re the starter again,” Channah snapped, as everyone pushed or threw their cards back in front of Penny. 

“I think I found the missing cards, Mistresses and Masters!” Hong exclaimed in surprise, patting a pocket in Judas’s sleeve and removing six cards.

“Thief!” chuckled Kadidia, then exchanging a glance with Esmeray and Fang.  “I brought plenty of laudanum, and I don’t want to be soft on the little cattle, but… is it practical–?” Kadidia asked, looking at Penny askance.

Esmeray followed her gaze towards Penny, who was shaking her head and appeared to be talking quietly to the six cards Hong had found, calling them naughty; asking them how they’d escaped her; and debating with herself whether she should try to deal them back into the deck or find cards that “worked properly.”  Over Penny’s shoulder she could scarcely avoid seeing Chastity, who was giggling stupidly as she puffed rapidly on a bong supplied to her by Húanglóng, who was laughing at her and pushing her down toward the floor so when she finished the bong she’d be in the perfect position to pleasure his balls and taint from below while Boubacar polished his knob from above.

Esmeray tried to smother a grin at the ludicrousness of the idea of either girl being supplied with more intoxicants as she turned back towards Kadidia.  “Mistress, I—”  But the the moment their eyes met they both burst out laughing.  “Your Grace, I’m afraid if you supply the dealer with any further laudanum, her fingers will be too thick to shuffle the cards!”

“As long as she doesn’t throw up near me, I’ll count it as a win,” Fang agreed, shaking her head ruefully as Penny inadvertently picked up her wine and drank it. Softening her voice as if she were speaking to a confused three-year-old, she growled in an odd combination of frustration and patience:  “Child?  Child!  You’ll have plenty of time to shuffle.”

“I will?” she asked.

“Yes,” Fang assured her.  “So go get us all another round of drinks before you shuffle, there’s a good girl.”

“Yes, Mistress!”  Penny staggered a bit as she made it to her feet, lifting herself straight up to leave Channah’s crossed boots undisturbed, but she was able to keep her balance and walk well enough to serve.

Stake 7—Spankings for Wine-Stealing

Fang suddenly started the formal betting by raising her voice and shouting:  “As stakes for each deal, I offer on behalf of the Lodge that any silly little girls who are caught purloining their fellow revelers’ drinks should be put over the knees of their victims for a thorough spanking!” 

“Girls or boys!”  Kadidia suggested.

“Accepted,” Fang allowed.

Or demons,” Esmeray added quietly but determinedly, her chin set.

After a momentary pause as the other players turned to regard her, Fang laughed and shrugged.  “Fair is fair.  At cards, anyway.  Accepted.”

“Aye!” everyone at the table, including a giggling Esmeray, agreed, without any objection from the otherwise-engaged Penny and Chas.  Followed immediately by:  “Done!”

Stake 8—20 hates ante per deal

“I’m feeling lucky,” Rivqah challenged, dropping the five hates she had won from Judas onto the table before her.  “I offer to anyone in the Lodge that I will best them on the next deal.”

“A good start, but not enough!”  Judas exclaimed, dropping two strings of coins on the table.  “I’m in a mood to get my money back from you!  I’ll match and raise you to a score!”

“And why should the rest of us be left out?”  Húanglóng demanded.  “I propose on behalf of the lodge that for each deal, the ante will be 20 hates!”

“Aye!” came the chorus, predictably, of most of the players.

Clearing her throat nervously, Esmeray interjected:  “I apologize, Your Majesty, but we cannot accept the Dragon King’s laudatory wager.  As all the members of our team are property of the Queen themselves, we have no money of our own to wager.”

“I’ll stake you!” Tifaret immediately countered, adding her own money to the pot.  And when everyone stared at her, she explained:  “What?  I saw this coming inevitably; surely you did, too?  Lovers can propose raising the stakes, just not vote on them.  I don’t want to be the only succubus left out of this game!”

“Well… you can’t actually stake another team, can you?  It’s not your team!”  Miriam reasoned.

“No, but you can bet on the outcome affecting your team,” Fang stroked her chin thoughtfully.

“So how would I word it?”  Judas asked, frowning.

“In this group, instead of the lodge, offer the bet on behalf of all demons,” Fang suggested.

“That they bet… what?”

“That every demon place a bet on behalf of their team, each deal, what team they think will win the pot?”  Kadidia proposed.

“Clever!”  Judas granted.  “On behalf of all the demons in the Lodge, I propose each demon, each deal, wager two score of malice money, on what team they believe will win the next deal, identifying that team when they offer their stake.”

“Done!”  exclaimed the table, everyone quickly, and without needing to be prompted, blurting out their own team except for Tifaret, who named Esmeray’s.

Stake 9—Loser Kisses Winner’s Ass

“I’m disappointed in you, little woman,” Channah frowned provocatively at Penny as she finished serving her masters’ wine and settled back down onto her seat, slipping into the narrow space between Channah’s boots and the back of the chair.  Channah immediately pressed the sole of one boot forward on Penny’s crotch to emphasize her words.

“What have I done wrong, Domina?”  Penny asked, looking anxious and hurt.  With an amused glance at Kadidia and Esmeray, Fang was subtly sliding her wine chalice toward Penny, so it rested between Penny’s chalice and hand.  All three of them tried unsuccessfully to keep their expressions neutral.

“Nothing wrong, just disappointing,” she insisted, continuing to push too hard on Penny for her comfort and enjoying her efforts not to flinch or otherwise escape.  “I practically—no, I literally—challenged you, and in fact encouraged you, to stand up for yourself and prove to us you have some last remaining shred of masculine, or even human, dignity,” she guffawed.  “But you’ve remained quiet as a churchmouse, timid girl!  I want you to admit you’re my obedient little pussywhipped bitch.”

“Domina!”  Penny protested, pinkening, then gasped as Fang put her hand on Penny’s crotch and began playing with her.

Channah shrugged.  “It’s true!  Why not admit it?  In fact, your silence already admits it.  Doesn’t it?  Go ahead.  If you won’t make a challenge worthy of the game to prove you have the tiniest shred of manhood, I’m going to consider taking your feminization to the next—” she separated the toes of her boots “level.”  And with that, she snapped them back together like a pair of scissors closing sharply on Penny’s purse and clit.

“Owwooohh!”  Penny screeched, trying to protect herself.  Finding herself unable to loosen the grip of Channah’s boots on her, she began thrashing and hooting in pain.  “Please Domina!  No!  Just—do whatever you want me to challenge you to, but please don’t take away my—my—”

“You can’t even say it.  You obviously don’t have any use for it.”

“I do I do I do I do please Mistress Domina Queen!  Just punish me but please don’t maim me!”

“‘Maim?!’” she asked incredulously.  “I daresay your little companion would get down on her knees and beg for the privilege of being made a natural girl, if she could!”  And turning her head toward Chas, she raised her voice to make sure she got the blonde girl’s attention:  “Wouldn’t you, Chastity?”

Removing her lips from Húanglóng’s dong, she gulped nervously, turning on her knees towards Channah and bowing subserviently.  “But—but I am not Penance, Domina.  I know regardless of what I feel—she would never feel that way!” Chas managed loyally.

“I don’t think she believes you’ll honor your bets,” Rivqah growled menacingly.

“no!  I-I—” Penny began, only to be cut off.

“It’s an outrage to suggest such a thing!”  Miriam echoed.  “My Queen, you should—”

“All right all right I’m sorry!”  Penny wailed.  “On behalf of the lodge I propose the team with the lowest score in each deal must kiss the bottoms of the winning team!”

A loud roar of shock—but not a condemnatory one—sounded in the room as Channah abruptly withdrew her legs and Penny, trying not to cry, held herself protectively, leaning forward and whining.

“Don’t make me part of this bet!”  Esmeray hissed, pinching Penny’s arm.

“I mean—the player, the lowest-scoring player must kiss the bottom of the winning player!”  Penny hastily amended.

Channah had sat straight up and leaned forward, interested.  “Penance Batonnoir, I do declare you’re a nasty-minded girl!”

“Oh, come on!”  Penny whined, while the table erupted in laughter

“Have a drink,” Kadidia suggested, nudging her.  “It will lessen the pain and make you feel better.”

Penny took the nearest glass and drank from it as Esmeray, stricken with guilt and feeling they were ganging up on the girl too much, tried to warn her:  “No Penny don’—oh, drat.”

“What?” Penny asked worriedly, turning her head.

Esmeray shook her head sympathetically.  “Domina Fang moved her glass in front of yours.”

“Oh fuck,” Penny whimpered, briefly flicking her eyes across Fang’s, ashamed and accusing at once, before dropping her head—then straightening and saying:  “Fuck it!”  Before gulping down the rest of Fang’s glass. 

Fang looked scandalized, tried to look mad, but wound up looking more intrigued and pleased as she leaned over, gently pried Penny’s hands off her penis, and soothingly began stroking her.  When Penny looked up in shock, Fang gave her a quick, chaste kiss on the lips, laughing at the effect she had had.

“The villain’s suggestion is outrageous!”  Judas suggested.

“Hear hear!”  the other demons chorused.

“To suggest that a demon would stoop so low as to—”  Judas blustered.  Then broke out laughing when Channah shot him a dirty look.

“The girl already thinks we’re all word-breakers!”  Channah cried, sounding offended by the idea.  Eyes on Penny, she stood in her seat and leaned forward, causing Penny to gasp, redden, and shrink back a little, uncertainly.  “I won’t have it!”

“Hear hear,” Miriam and Rivqah chorused, rolling their eyes, as Fang, giggling, withdrew her hand from Penny’s semihard penis, even as Kadidia replaced it with her own, drawing a strange sound out of Penny’s throat. 

“I accept the proposal as modified,” Channah clarified, beginning to slowly circle the table, never taking her eyes off Penny, who swallowed nervously. 

“Oh, Aye!”  the other players agreed in turn, Miriam adding:  “I’m sooo going to make you regret that, little girl.”

“Call it, then, girl.  Call your stakes.”

“Done?” She asked uncertainly.

“WITH CONVICTION!”  The demons all howled.

DONE!”  Penny shouted at the top of her lungs, echoed by the demons.  And drained her own glass, leaving Fang with nothing.

Fang hissed with surprise:  “You’re—going to—pay!” she promised, the threat ameliorated somewhat by her accompanying giggle, pinching Penny’s hip without distracting her eyes which were following Channah’s smug expression, and her progress around the table, worriedly.

The Deal

“Shuffle,” Channah mouthed silently but very deliberately.  And then, snapping her finger:  “I mean NOW.”  Even the other demons were watching Channah now, with a mixture of curiosity and excitement, as she took her time circling the table, her target clear.

With a swallow, Penny hastily started shuffling.  After giving her hard little clit a couple more tugs, Kadidia withdrew her own hand.  A second later Penny flinched again as there was a thunk under the table.  Miriam’s and Rivqah’s simultaneous movement, sliding down in their chairs, and their giggle at the noise, clarified for anyone who was still confused that they had both thrust their boots at Penny’s crotch at the same time.  Now they competed for a moment, pushing one another’s feet out of the way snickering like school children, before sharing a glance, and apparently an idea. 

“Spread your legs, dealer,” they commanded as one, each pushing forcefully on one of Penny’s legs to force them apart, making plenty of room to rest both their soles against her crotch.  But to judge from Penny’s face, they were being more gentle than Channah had been.

Penny, flustered, spilled the cards from one of her hands and had to gather them back together again, pressing her lips together as if trying very hard to concentrate, before she could resume shuffling, amusing everyone else.

“Wank yourself,” Esmeray barked, tapping Penny’s shoulder.

“What?!” she asked, already disoriented by everything happening to and around her; now set further off-balance by the sheer surprise of her partner’s order.

“You heard me.  Touch yourself.  Stroke it.”

“But—why—”

“Because I’m certainly not going to be touching it,” Esmeray clarified.  “And Chastity is too far away.  But there’s nothing in the bet to prevent our team from playing with you so we can rearrange our turn, just like the others!”  And when Penny remained frozen, she slapped her upper arm hard enough to sting.  ‘’Do it now!  Before you deal!”

Penny hesitated, then barely touched herself, turning bright red as people around the table laughed at her, then returned to shuffling as Channah barked out loud:  “SHUFFLE, knave!  Aren’t you done yet?!”

And with a final feathering of the cards, Penny squeaked:  “Yes, Mistress.”

“Good,” Channah purred, stepping over the front of Esmeray’s chair so she stood against the back of Penny’s chair with her buttocks more or less in Esmeray’s face even as Esmeray backed away to give her more room.  Enjoying the way Penny subconsciously hunched down in her chair as she bent over her, Channah rested her hands gently on Penny’s shoulders, then put her right hand on the front of Penny’s collar, pulling it back against Penny’s throat, holding her tight back against Channah’s chest, even as she dropped her other hand down to Penny’s crotch, taking her in hand and pulling Penny and her chair back by Penny’s neck and crotch until Miriam’s and Rivqah’s legs dropped off the front of her chair. 

“You’re mine now,” she whispered, stroking Penny.  And then, provocatively, continued:  “Deal.  While you can still reach the table.”

Making mouing noises, Penny began dealing, as she had been taught, by threes.

“Did you know you’re wearing a choke-collar, puppy?  With just a thought—” the collar shrank around Penny’s neck and Penny started gasping and choking in panic.  Channah explained in her ear, loud enough for everyone around the table to hear:  “I’m no copout, slave-girl.”

“I—” Penny began, but Channah choked her off, tightening the collar—and her hand—around Penny’s neck even further as she shushed the girl.  “And I’m going to prove it to you,” she continued.  “Just as soon as you finish dealing.”

“There!”  Penny squeaked.  “All dealt!” 

As the other players—and for Channah and Penny, as Tifaret and Esmeray—picked up their cards, Channah murmured:  “Good.”  Taking her hand off Penny’s pussy and taking hold of the back of her chair, without releasing her neck, Channah suddenly and swiftly tipped Penny over backwards, eliciting a startled cry from the girl and a surprised sound from the other members of the Lodge.  “As the last player with my hands on my girl before she finished dealing, I’m going to switch with whoever was first after the rest of you choose your turn-order.”

“Second!” Esmeray immediately claimed their spot.

“Third!”  Miriam and Rivqah both claimed, then looked daggers at one another. 

“You’ll go last if you can’t agree now.”

“Alternating tricks?” Rivqah proposed, to break their deadlock before Channah intervened, and Miriam nodded her head in agreement.

“Frickking fifth,” Kadidia grumbled.

“Shitting sixth!” Fang topped her.  “And I was the one who started it!  This is my reward?!”

Setting Penny’s chair on its back, and shaking a finger of her left hand in front of Penny’s face, which was reddening as she struggled to breathe, Channah commanded:  “Stay!  Spread your legs, honey.  As wide as they can go.” And after Penny had obeyed, she encouraged her, even as she dropped to her knees, straddling Penny’s left leg:  “Good girl.  Keep your legs spread and hold the top of your chair-back with your hands.  Go on!” 

“Yes, Domina,” Penny managed nervously, hastening to obey, whimpering as Channah rammed her right knee against Penny’s side and her left knee as deeply as she could between Penny’s buttocks, leaving her right hand clamped tightly around Penny’s throat as she slowly and gently began stroking Penny’s clit with her left hand.  “What are you doing?”  Penny wheezed fearfully, provoking loud laughter all around them.

“Listen to you, huffer.  Calm down.  You can still breathe.  Enough.  You’re still an innocent but even you’re not that innocent anymore, are you, Princess?  You know exactly what I want from you.  I want you to cum for me so I can show you—and any other humans with the temerity to doubt us—that demons don’t renege.”

Penny groaned helplessly, much to the entertainment of everyone watching.  “Please—I trust—I swear—I believe—”  and as Channah sped up her hand, Penny groaned in surrender, puffing “Please—PLEASE, not with everyone watching…”

“Everyone will watch your pathetic little spooge, loser.  I need witnesses so you can never again accuse a demon of being a promise-breaker.  Unless…” she withdrew her hand, leaving Penny panting and whimpering even harder than before.  “You swear you’ll never accuse demons of being backtrackers again.  Then I’ll lock you up to keep you safe and sound from being molested by any nasty Demon Queens.  Maybe…. Permanently.  Yes.  So you’ll remember your lesson.  I think so.”

“No ple—”

“Your choice,” she shrugged.

“Please…” Penny swallowed and rasped, looking desperate.

“Please what?” Channah asked archly.  Smiling cruelly, she asked:  “What’s it going to be—back in your cage, or cum like a whore in a tavern show for me and all my friends and vassals?”

And when Penny made some incoherent noises, and her arms shuddered like she wanted to let go of the chair and play with herself, Channah shook her head.  “Nuh-unh, sorry Princess.”  She ran her finger up and down Penny’s clit ever so slowly, everyone laughing at the way the girl and her girl-penis jumped and thrashed in tandem at the tease.  “You have to say it.  And since you’ve made me wait by trying to defy me—”

“No, Domina, I swear I haven’t—”

“HUSH!” she barked, tightening her grip and her collar on Penny’s neck even further to make her croak, and sharply spanking her pussy one time, making her bark and jump before going back to her slow, maddening, teasing, torturous movements.  “Take her wrists and ankles.  Spread them and hold them down.  Hard.  I want her to feel how helpless she is,” she commanded the nearest humans, who moved instantly to obey her.

“Your face is turning red.  And maybe puffing up a little bit,” she observed casually.  “You’re starting to look a bit like a piggy.  Again.  Do you remember the last time you played piggie?” she shrieked with laughter, joined by Miriam and Rivqah, as Penny turned something like aubergine and tears started leaking out of her eyes.  “We’re going to have to share that story with everyone tonight.  Won’t that be fun, Miss Piggy?”

“No, Domina,” Penny pled.

“Since you’re making yourself look all piggy, you must really miss being a piggy, don’t you?”

“No, Domina!” she burst out crying.

Snorting with amusement, Channah continued:  “I’m going to give you two choices, and I’m going to choke you harder and tease you longer if you do or say anything other than telling me which of my two choices you want.  Do you understand, Miss Piggy?”

Penny nodded desperately.

“I can’t hear you, and you can’t speak…” she jiggled the base of Penny’s shaft for a second before going back to her long, slow stroking motions, drawing a helpless whine from her victim and chortles from her companions.  “Snort once for no and two for yes, Miss Piggy.”

Reddening even further, Penny, miserable, snorted twice.  Channah smiled with savage triumph as the people around them—with a couple of notable exceptions—whooped and applauded.  “Good little piggy.  Here’s option one…” she tickled just under the head of Penny’s hood, watching with something like a clinical interest as the poor girl rasped and thrashed helplessly beneath her. “You say:  ‘I’m so ashamed of the pathetic little piece of rice between my legs.  Please lock up my miniature cockette forever and throw away the key so no one ever has to see it again.’  Did you get that, honey?”  And when Penny nodded miserably, she reminded her:  “I can’t hear you.”

Penny snorted twice.

“Get your mouth back on me,” Húanglóng snapped, yanking down on Chastity’s collar until her face was back in his crotch.  “I may even cum myself.”

“And I want my qahramanah back,” Fang demanded, snapping her fingers.  Hong gave her no reason to complain, instantly disengaging from Judas and dropping to her knees before Fang, moving her tongue as Fang had trained her and immediately drawing a satisfied groan from her Domina.  “You can keep using my trainee,” she offered Judas.

“You know what to do,” Judas growled, and Huifen, despite turning red, promptly demonstrated that she did.  Around the room, the remaining demons maneuvered their servants into the positions that pleased them best.

Tifaret crossed the room and stood over Penny’s head, rubbing herself and looking questioningly at Channah, who shook her head.  “Absolutely not.  I’ll use that mouth after I pay off my bet.  Or maybe, while I pay it off.”

“But I need something,” Tifaret pouted, throwing a speculative gaze at Esmeray, who looked at Channah and shook her head rapidly, imploringly.

Channah rolled her eyes.  “You can use her rear if you grab her cage for me.”

“Fine,” Tifaret shrugged reluctantly, recovering the cage and kneeling between Penny’s legs as she rubbed herself against Penny’s taint, rapidly growing and pressing against her.

Penny groaned, even as Channah held up two fingers.  “Option two.  You can admit the truth and repeat after me—word for word, with real passion, what I tell you to say, to thoroughly entertain our audience with your wetness.  Well?”  She asked, raising her brow as she continued to use her clever, expert hand on Penny, watching the girl and all her parts shudder and shake, even as Channah clambered over her leg and knelt on her chest, making room for Tifaret, who dropped to her knees, set Penny’s cold cage on her tummy, and pushed up her legs onto her shoulders as she began lubricating her member. 

Channah cautioned Penny:  “And honey—if you wait too long and pop before you decide?  There’s no third option for you here.  You’re going to spend the rest of the day being paddled and tortured by every single person here, and the rest of your life with that cage on your clitty.  So you better not cum bef—”

Penny snorted twice, urgently.

“What’s that sugar bear?”  Channah beamed radiantly, enjoying Penny’s capitulation, and the cheers of her near-peers.  

Penny snorted twice again, desperately.

“Then repeat after me, sweetie, and you better be persuasive!” Channah air-kissed her before she began speaking dramatically, pretending to be Penance to entertain her audience and further humiliate her victim:  “‘Oh, Domina, you’re so right about me—you’re always right!”

“Oh, Domina, you’re so right about me—you’re always right!”  Penny wept.

“Try again.  This time, with real feeling!”  Channah moved her hand from Penny’s neck to her cheeks, squeezing them and shaking her head back and forth as her hand sped up on Penny’s penis.

“OH DOMINA YOU’RE SO RIGHT ABOUT ME—YOU’RE ALWAYS RIGHT!!!!”

“What a good girl.  Just like that!  Now, convince us you mean every single word:  ‘I admit it.  I’m a pathetic humiliation whore.  I’m your pathetic humiliation whore, Queen Channah!”

“I ADMIT IT!  I’M A PATHETIC HUMILIATION WHORE!!”  Penny started bawling, even before she felt the first insistent touch of Tifaret against her sphincter.  “N—” she almost began, then looked straight at Channah in terror before moving her mouth silently until she remembered the only thing she was allowed to say:  “I’M YOUR PATHETIC HUMILIATION WHORE, QUEEN CHANNAH!!!”

“Now say, ‘Omigoddess I love me a big demon cock in my pussy-hole!”

“OMIGODDESS I LOVE ME A BIG DEMON COCK IN MY PUSSY-HOLE!!!”  Penny wailed and cried and—as Tifaret began pushing in earnest—grunted in agony, even as the room exploded with cheers and applause, fighting with the laughter for everyone’s breath.

“Say that again!”  “Yes!”  Demons hollered.

“You heard them, pussy.  Say:  ‘There’s nothing like big demon cock for Me, Dominae!  I’m a regular demon-cock whore!”

Penny’s words ran together and blurred into her tears and sobs, but the overall effect was so satisfying Channah simply enjoyed it, laughing and clapping her hands as earnestly as the others:  “THERE’S NOTHING LIKE BIG DEMON COCK FOR ME, DOMINAE!!!  I’M A REGULAR DEMON-COCK WHORE!!!

Extemporizing, between laughing and breathing, Channah managed:  ‘Oh. Mistress Tifaret, please give me more of that giant demon-donkey dick!  It’s what I live for!’”

Penny gave her a desperate, pleading look for half a second before plunging onwards, knowing better than to test her Domina’s patience any further:  “OH!  MISTRESS TIFARET!  PLEASE GIVE ME MORE OF THAT GIANT DEMON-DONKEY-DICK!!!!  IT’S WHAT I LIVE FOR!!!”

Shrugging as if she were agreeable, Tifaret laughed:  “If that’s what you want, slut.”

“’Give it to me really hard, Mistress!  I mean it—harder!  Harder!  Punish my ass with your giant clit!  It’s what I need you to demolish me!’”

“GIVE IT TO ME REALLY HARD, MISTRESS TIFARET!  I MEAN IT—HARDER!  HARDER!!  PUNISH MY ASS WITH YOUR GIANT CLIT!!!  I NEED YOU TO DEMOLISH ME!”

“Go on!”  Channah urged her, speeding up her hand further.  “Don’t pretend you need me to tell you what to say anymore!  I want to hear you beg nonstop, nonstop and convincingly, until your orgasm is completely over!”

“YES DOMINA!!!  OH, MISTRESS TIFARET, PLEASE, IT IS WHAT I WANT!  I WANT YOUR BIG DEMON-DONKEY-(what was—oh!) DONKEY-DEMON-DICK!!  OMIGAAAWWWWDDDD GIVE IT TO ME PLEASE I BEG OF YOU!  I BEG THIS!  I BEG IT!  I’LL DO ANYTHING, PLEASE MISTRESS, IF YOU’LL JUST LET ME HAVE IT, MISTRESS!  AND DOMINA, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T STOP!!!  PLEASE MAKE ME CUM LIKE THE LITTLE DEMON SLUT I AM!  I WANT IT SO—I WANT—I WANT—UUUUNNNGGHHHAAA!!!!

And Channah darted back off Penance’s chest to kneel beside her even as her hand moved furiously and Penance bucked and thrashed and screamed and came like a banshee.  The laughter and demeaning comments from around them once again transitioned into applause and complements for Channah, and Channah mock-bowed even as she announced, continuing to play with Penny’s little thing, slowing down her hand but squeezing and pressing with greater force as Penny shuddered and shrieked through the aftershocks of her orgasm:   “Now… pay attention!  This is how demons play for real!”  Swooping down on Penny’s belly, she licked and sucked up the heaviest ropes and puddles of Penny’s mess before twisting so her face was over Penny’s.  Penny shook her head and snorted like a pig once, and Channah nearly lost it, barely keeping her lips closed over the smile that threatened to break through them, as she shook her head and slapped Penny’s face, hard, once on one cheek and once on the other, before raising one eyebrow expectantly.  Surrendering, the fight draining out of her before Channah’s insistence, Penance opened her mouth, groaning miserably but with acceptance as Channah kissed her, pushing her own spunk back into her mouth, even as Channah continued to squeeze and rub her penis, swirling her tongue in Penance’s mouth and occasionally pushing her tongue down hard to the back of her throat, reveling in every sign of struggle.

That’s my girl,” Channah praised her like a well-behaved dog, petting her hair and her little clit proprietarily before lifting her leg over Penny’s face and settling down onto it.  “Now shush up and get to work!” she barked.  “Mmmm…. Isn’t it nice to admit the truth?” she demanded between licking Penny’s belly, and proving with her thoroughness and tenacity that indeed, she could never be accused of reneging on her word.  “I’ll bet you think you’ve died and gone to hell,” Channah sniggered.  “Getting to cum like this with such a big, hard, juicy phallus in your bubble-butt, with your Domina’s pussy on your face?  This must be the greatest moment of your entire pathetic existence!”  meeting Tifaret’s eyes, the two succubae laughed and high-fived each other, thoroughly enjoying themselves.  Careful not to let her lips close around any part of her girl’s flesh, by even a fraction of an inch, Channah stuck her tongue out and used her hands to bend and twist Penny’s girl-boy-parts so she could lick off every single drop of moisture from them, before squeezing her scrotum and penis brutally to force them back inside their ring and cage, ignoring Penny’s muffled cries except to share another smile with Tifaret.  The moment she heard the cage click, assuring her it was locked in place, she leaned forward and pulled Tifaret towards her so they could share a sensual kiss, using and ignoring the helpless slave beneath them.

“This is soooo hot.  Ungh!”  Channah groaned.  “Your tongue feels so good, Miss Piggy.  Ohh you’re a fast learner, Zuckerbär.”  And settling deeper onto Penny’s face, even as she relaxed the collar to its normal size, enjoying the way Penny now struggled for breath under the weight and bulk of Channah’s wide, generous body, she mused around Tifaret’s tongue:  “There’s nothing like a well-trained slave, is there?”

“No, Mistress,” Tifaret whispered.

Literature Section “07-39 Sex, Drugs, and Tarot:  Demons Pay Their Debts”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 39 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 5,004 words—Accompanying Images:  2498-2502—Published 2025-10-27—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

(a few German expletives and other words mentioned, are defined after the text)

PREVIOUSLY:  As a honeymoon gift, Queen Channah’s husband, friends, lovers, and wives have just pleasured her, and are now cuddling around her—or in Penny’s case, under her—sharing the afterglow.  NOW:

No one spoke, or even moved, except Chastity and Penny, who had not been told they could stop soothing and honoring their Domina.

“Mmm… you girls’ lips are so soft, your kisses so tender…” Channah murmured.  “You can sooth me with your hands as well,” she allowed, shivering as the girls’ gentle fingers joined their mouths, trailing tenderly over Channah’s legs and hips and waist as best they could in shackles.  “Mmmm…. Gentler, silly girl,” she drawled, petting Chastity’s hair.  “Softer… don’t even brush against me, just roll your face and tongue back and forth, changing the pressure without any friction….  What a lovely way to rest… although generally, I don’t allow girls with mouths as dirty as yours on me.”

“You allow your girls to be dirty?!”  Húanglóng protested, trying unconvincingly to sound outraged, but it coming out closer to a luxuriant yawn.

“Oh, Lillith and Cain!”  Rivqah hooted.

Sooo dirty!”  Miriam agreed.

“The filithiest foxes in the land!” Rivqah clarified.

We are?!”  Penny asked, sounding so genuinely and innocently shocked and scandalized by the notion everyone around her erupted in laughter.

“Of course not, darling,” Channah purred, snaking her other hand down to stroke Penny’s hair as well as she could from her position, as soothingly as she was Chastity’s.  “I just meant I watched both of you shamelessly letting our First Husband step all over your tongues and faces with his big dirty feet.  You girls are still my little sugar bears.”  Then she giggled teasingly:  “Now hush your sweet, dirty mouth and keep sucking the scum out of my bum.”

The demons and cambions erupted in laughter while Penny’s forehead—the only part of her face anyone could see—managed to turn bright red, and she tried to move as she protested, sounding badly hurt:  “I didn’t—Domina!  I—”

“And don’t you dare stop!” Channah quickly amended, tugging a fistful of Penny’s hair for emphasis, then moving her hands up to run along the outside of Penny’s thighs and hips.  “We can’t have you getting distracted.”

“The poor girl probably can’t even breathe,” Húanglóng opined. 

“What are you suggesting?!”  Channah demanded lazily, trying to sound upset, and failing.

“Just that she’s a little slip of a thing, lovergirl,” Miriam assured her, giggling and touching her arm. 

Húanglóng roared:  “That, and you’re a gorgeous, spectacular prize cow, my voluptuous love!”

“Fucker!” Channah feigned outrage, laughing deep in her throat but not moving an inch.  “You’re lucky she’s taking such sweet care of me, you bastard, and I can’t be bothered with you right now.  But I’ll make you regret it.”

“How?” he scoffed, challengingly, leaning forward resting a hand on Chastity’s back to support himself, to kiss Channah’s knee.

“Oh, I’ll think of a way,” she vowed languorously, before addressing Penny:  “Darling Pleaser, I think we may have identified another little specialty of yours.”

“68?  Or analingus?”  Rivqah asked, exchanging an amused glance with Miriam.

Both.  And she’s so much softer now,” Channah giggled.  “They’re both just perfect now!  I’m afraid my little vacuum mattress is going to have to get used to breathing with my voluptuous… generous…” (the three demons laughed uproariously, while their cambions and cattle remained carefully neutral) “body covering her like a blanket.”

“I don’t know what either of those is,” George admitted, embarrassed.

“What, a vacuum or a mattress?”  Rivqah asked snarkily.

“No, Mistress,” George looked stricken.  “The other—68 and… what?!

“Oh, Channah my love,” Húanglóng scoffed, lifting her leg and kissing his way down her calf.  “You’ve obviously been neglecting the education of my wyrmling!”

“He didn’t even manifest as a cambion until a few days ago!” Channah pointed out.

“We thought he was just a dumb carpenter!”  Rivqah interjected, drawing a pinch and a glare from Húanglóng:

Bad succubus!”

Oh yes,” she assured him.

“You should let me take him to Lytos, and show him a bit of his Dragon heritage!” 

Channah laughed caustically:  “You’re kidding!  He’s my carpenter!  And he’s actually reasonably diligent!  The last thing I want him to learn about is his ‘heritage’ of apathy and idleness!” 

Rivqah, Miriam, and Jacob all roared with genuine, slightly-surprised laughter.

“Chastity, honey, you’re doing marvelously, but what I really need right now is a pillow for my head and Penny’s legs are starting to shake from supporting me.  Come up here, face down, and slide back until your little cage klinks against Penny’s to be my little double pillow.  Perfect!”

Jacob rolled over onto his stomach as well, and backed up toward Chastity.  Seeing Miriam’s and Rivqah’s inquiring look, he grumbled defensively:  “What?!  I outrank them, at least!  No need for her mouth to go to waste!”

“You’re lucky you’re so big,” Miriam allowed, letting it go with an amused glance at Rivqah.

“I’m serious!”  Húanglóng complained.  “I have great affection for all my little spawn.  And he’s yours—no question about it, I can’t even visit him on Earth, let alone train him.  I’m glad he’s in your care!  But you brought him to hell; why not let him see what he’s made of?!”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Channah responded, provoking another round of laughter from the succubae.

“I mean this!” he insisted.  “And, honestly, I could use a good carpenter…”

“I’m sure you could use anyone capable of an honest day’s labor around your broke-down, lotus-eating—” the succubae were all laughing so hard she couldn’t even finish her sentence, ignoring his continuing protests.  “Besides, I’m still trying to get pissed off at you for calling me fat!” she groaned torpidly, amusing her sisters further.  “The last thing I’m in the mood for, is doing you any favors!”

“But darling that’s perfect,” he paused in his attentions and sat up, raising his hands in exasperation.  “I’d be the one doing you a favor!  Let me take this one, and the two sows, back to Lytos with me for a few days, actually, or a week or two would be even better—for your benefit, I mean—and I’ll have them as docile and eager to please as a handmaiden’s lapdog!”

“Are you kidding?!”  Channah cried, scrambling up to a sitting position to face a surprised Húanglóng and pretending not to notice Penny making muffled noises and struggling for breath under her, and pretending not to notice her handmaidens’ amusement.  “Do you think I don’t notice how obsessed you, and all the ambassadors and visitors from the other Courts are, with our operatives?  Especially my jawari?!  Most of them haven’t had a chance to play, physically, with a live human for—centuries!  Don’t try to pretend you’d be doing me a favor!”

“Come now!” Húanglóng raised his hands, whether in protest or self-defense was not entirely clear, slipping into a mixture of English and German without intending to:  “Part of your ladies’ entreaties to get me here was their concern about your little arschkriecher there being too big for her panties and too good for pederasty!  I’ll overcome her little quibbles.”

Finally relenting towards her slave-wife, Channah rose up on her knees long enough for Penny to scramble out from under her, dizzy and panting like a winded puppy.  Channah rolled her eyes and tried not to smirk too obviously at her little bunny’s distress as she shook her head.  “You idle girls can make yourselves useful by refilling everyone’s’ glasses.”  Then she returned her attention to her husband.  “Unfortunately, I knew I would need expertise in canon law and she was the obvious choice.  So I let the priests keep her too long.  Hell, technically they still have her.”

Húanglóng looked skeptical.  “Wait.  Priests?  I’d have thought they’d lay the groundwork for you—”

She waved a hand dismissively, knowing immediately where he was going.  “Unfortunately, out of all the parish schools and colleges in England, she managed to find her way to the few devout ones.  Besides—your ‘rationale’ is also obviously defective because it fails to explain what you can offer me for sweet Chastity here,” she observed, fondly pulling both her girls into her sides and petting their heads.  Without letting their mouths anywhere near her face.

“She’s an idiot!” Húanglóng shrugged, as if it were obvious.

“Your magical powers can fix stupid?!” Channah demanded skeptically.  Both of them ignored the expressions of betrayal and hurt on the girls’ faces as they discussed them.

“Not directly,” Húanglóng admitted, showing only a minimal amount of discomfiture.  “But I expect Georgie and I can smooth over both their edges—”

“Ha!”  Channah exclaimed, trying to look more indignant than she felt.  Revealing her demonic spirit or essence, of whatever nature it was, by omission of any plea to his affections, she simply protested:  “You can do everything you’re suggesting by staying here with me for a couple of weeks.  And it would do you good, besides!  To be surrounded by a more-vigorous environment.”  Gently teasing him, she followed his unintentional lead in mixing languages:  “You could even send a few of your Runde, Pumpel Drachenherzöge along for us to help invigorate.”

“Hear hear!  We like that idea!” Miriam laughed. 

“Actually,” Rivqah clarified, also following suit, “as long as they bring their Drachenpenisse, they can leave their herzöge behind in the Hell of Sloth!”

Looking mildly irritated, he retorted:  “If the two of you graced us with your presence there again and made the invitation yourselves, I feel certain you could persuade any number of my valiant vassals to come assist you!”

“You will not be taking my Sukkubus-Prinzessinnen to Drachenland as if they were your—your… common drabs, Herr Drachenführer!“  She pounded her fist on the cushion beside her to pretend and emphasize her pretended seriousness.  Despite her valiant efforts, she was ultimately unsuccessful in concealing her amusement. “Get me a fresh glass, sweetie,” she nodded toward Penny before turning her attention back to her husband, who was continuing:

“That would be all well and good except for one thing, my Queen!” The Dragon King looked at her significantly.

“What?!” she asked with exaggerated exasperation, looking only slightly uncertain since she didn’t know what he was referring to.  Even as minor as it was, it was unusual enough for her to be attention-getting.

“You married me first, mein Drachenführerin!” He raised his finger so everyone would realize his was an important point, and more importantly that he was now consciously playing the bilingual game they had started.  Like Channah before him, he completely failed to hide his amusement, and thus to persuade anyone of his righteous anger.  “Which makes you the Sukkubus-Drachenkönigin of Lust and Sloth.  Which makes them the Sukkubus-Drachenprinzessinnen of Sloth and Lust!”

Scheiss die Wand an!” She cursed, slapping both her hands emphatically down on the cushions to her sides and just giving up, bursting out laughing and shaking her head as her husband, unnecessarily at this point, spelled it out:

“Which means I have every bit as much right to order them around as you do!  And which, by the way, makes Lytus their homes, just as much as Sodom!” 

“Sademtsaowah these days, my darling gelbe Zuckerschlange,” she cooed sweetly, leaning forward, unable to resist kissing her husband as they laughed and hugged one another.

Rivqah looked at Miriam and deadpanned:  “I feel sick.  I’m going to have to Die Wand anschreien.”  Then she noticed Penny standing stock-still beside her, her face white, hands frozen on the verge of refilling Rivqah’s wine-glass.  “What are you stopping for, mein Schätzchen?” she challenged, slapping her bottom to get her attention.

Penny shook her head to clear it and returned Rivqah’s gaze, saying—or perhaps asking:  “I’m a… what?  A succubus-dragon-princess of Hell?!”  And then, still ashen-faced, she shook her head again.  “That’ can’t be.  I’m a priest!”

“Not.  Any.  More,  I think it’s safe to say,” Miriam suggested, as the room dissolved in laughter.

Chastity, the only other person in the room not showing any amusement, managed:  “I thought ‘princess’ was just a nickname, like—‘prissy.’”

“Oh, it was, darling,” Channah assured her.  “And it still is.”  She shrugged.  “But it also happens to be true.”

“I thought I was a slave,” Penny frowned.

“Of course you are, Zuckerbär, don’t get all excited,” Channah confirmed patronizingly, making a dismissive gesture.  “And—” she glared at her husband.  “Even more importantly—You’re my slave and mine alone.  Demon-human marriages are always left-handed.”

“As it turns out,” Rivqah raised her eyebrows, staring with pleasure into Penny’s lost eyes even as she dug her fingernails into Penny’s soft bottom to ensure she had the girl’s full attention.  “Selling your soul isn’t as glamorous as devils try to make it sound.”

“But it does sound better, doesn’t it darling?  Now keep pouring, slave-princess!”  Channah rejoined, rubbing it in, before returning her lips and her hands and her attention back to her husband, managing to pout as she nibbled on his lower lip and stroked his manhood.  “Mm… I really could use your help here a few days, honey… surely now that you’re already here, it’s just as easy for you to stay, as it would be for you to go back home?”

“Witch,” he replied, admitting—as his body already had:  “You’re quite persuasive, darling.  But then… so am I,” he observed, touching her back and watching her instantly relax, humming with contentment.

“You are, baby….  I don’t know which of us is going to win this argument…. But I wager we’re going to enjoy having it!”

“Now I want to argue!” Miriam announced, apropos of nothing.

“Me too,” Jacob admitted.

Suddenly Channah gasped, pulling back from her husband and looking into his eyes with excitement and definite calculation.  “Daaarrrliiinnnggg…. Because, I’m concerned you’re going to persist in suggesting our marital status creates some kind of question about my chattel….”

“Uh-oh.”  Húanglóng swallowed.

“I have the best idea.”  She snatched her new glass of wine from Penny and took an excited sip, while Chastity was serving Húanglóng.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” he allowed, looking at her with an expression that was both intrigued and calculating.

“Sweet darling little Chastity was just begging me to play some games earlier….  Why don’t we make it a bet?

“Oh!  I’m listening!” Húanglóng was suddenly entirely interested in whatever she was going to say.

“Let’s play tarot for it!  We’ve got everything we need… cards in the parlor” she pointed one perfectly-manicured long fingernail toward the parlor, and then managed to indicate both girls at once without setting down her glass “and pets right here.”  Penny and Chastity exchanged a nervous glance, but apparently didn’t think this was the right occasion to ask what she meant.  “We can make a side-bet,” she proposed, returning her free hand to the yellow dragon while she took another sip of the spiked wine.

“If I win,” the Dragon King began, “what do I get?  I want your jawari, their qahramanah, and my dragonling for a week—a fortnight!” he amended hastily.

“Oh-ho!  You greedy greedy serpent!”  Clearly she was being emphatic deliberately, but there was no indication she wasn’t as surprised and affronted as she acted.  “Greedy yellow dragon…” she crooned, then made a mock hissing sound and flickered her tongue at him.  “First off, if we make this bet in the first place, you agree you have absolutely no claim to any part of them, or anyone else I marry, ever, and you won’t make any claims or suggestions to anyone, most importantly me, about it.  Obviously, you’ll be first-husband and they’ll have to show you the respect my lord deserves…. Everything about our marital relations—and theirs—will be as we already agreed in our marital contract.  But you’ll agree with me that nothing about the marital interest will disturb my property interest in them, or limit the property provisions of our marriage contract in any way in relation to marital objects.  That’s not part of the bet, that’s a condition for my agreeing to make the bet in the first place!  And by the way, I hope you don’t think I’m listening to your big, aggressive fingers down there in connection with our negotiation.  My reaction to them is totally separate!”

“And I hope you don’t imagine your skilled, elegant… er… gently rounded fingers down there are negotiating with me, either!  But I understand your condition on making the bet—and if you sweeten the bet itself enough, I can live with that so far as it goes.”

“Before we talk about my sweet hotpot,” she purred:  “If you win more tricks than me—you get the services of these two jawari only, and this one qahramanah only, and my English carpenter George Manning, for exactly one week,” she bargained.  “No… Jacob is an arrogant little prick and he practically begged me to be mean to him, so I’ll throw in Jacob too, on the same conditions.  But with no one and nothing else.  Not even a snail from my garden or a stich of my clothing or jewelry!  Not even a Persian rock candy to freshen their breath or a bag of dates to sweeten your coffee with!”  She paused for a second, staring intently into her husband’s eyes, almost as if she were done, before continuing:  “And you have to keep them chained in your palace at—”

“Ah ah!”  The dragon interrupted his wife, shaking his head and responding to her without either of them paying any mind or attention to what was going on among the others. 

Miriam and Rivqah were exchanging another merry-eyed smirk, enjoying watching the reactions of the human (and cambion) bargaining chips as they stood around—or in the case of the girls, served drinks—listening to themselves being haggled over like a horse ride on an old nag.  “This one’s not turned on,” Rivqah observed, checking Penny’s condition and reporting her findings in a stage-whisper.  “I think her wittle feelings are hurt!”

“Same with this one!” Miriam agreed after tugging Chastity closer to her and checking.  “She may even be pouting a wittle!” Miriam made a mock-sad-face, rocking with her silent amusement.  “And the qahramanah and the stud both, er… what’s the phrase?  Im Kreis kotzen.”

Rivqah covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud: “Der große Drachenarschgeige just looks baffled.”

Miriam bit her own knuckle to keep silent, while the two royals continued to ignore their exchange completely.

Húanglóng was shaking his head firmly.  “No ma’am.  No way.  Do it right.  If I get to play with your toys, it’s with no restrictions, no strings whatsoever on my use of any of them.  If I win—or, at least, win more tricks than you—then I get them with title for a week and no restrictions of any kind.”

“No, sir,” she shook her head firmly.  “There’s one very important condition I won’t compromise on:  You have to return them in good condition.  At least as good as the condition you received them!”

Subject to normal wear and tear,” the King qualified.  “I’m not going to baby them or handle them with kid gloves!”

“Fine!” she snapped.  “Is that all?!

“Well, that depends on what you want?”

Looking happier to be discussing this subject, Channah answered immediately, as if she’d known what she had in mind all along:  “I want you, and two of your best vassals—their selection being subject to my veto—to spend exactly one week at Sademtsaowah using every ounce of your persuasive powers training every single jariya I can spare from their duties and lay my hands on!”

“OH no… you want three dragons?  Three full dragons?  For the same length of time you’re offering a handful of cambions and livestock?!  That’s a grossly unfair proposal!  You can have me for five days, or the three of us for three days!”

“I agree with you,” Channah nodded surprisingly, making a placating gesture.  “Obviously, darling, you’re my number-one love-bunny, husband, and king!  Your time is more precious to me than anyone else’s, even my darling shu-wives.  But I also know the prospect of having all my available, living, juicy, human—uh, did I mention alive?!—jawari at your disposal for a full week is so appealing, you’ll have to keep your own vassals from murdering one another for the privilege.  And,” she concluded, triumphantly:  “I’ll bet you’re actually terrified I’ll relent and agree to the shorter period you just demanded—aren’t you?”  And when she found what she expected in his eyes, she clapped excitedly and laughed.  “I knew it!  All men are whores!”

“Of every species!” Miriam and Rivqah agreed simultaneously, saluting one another, taking a deep draught, and laughing.

“Of every species,” Channah agreed, following their lead down to taking adrink.  “Even our dear, sweet incubi.”

Especially your damned incubi!” the King charged, making the succubae whoop and agree.

“Also, my dear,” Channah continued, “you and I both know that in the exceedingly-unlikely event you win, I’m going to be absolutely furious!  Whereas you—” she spread her hands as if it were self-evident.

“What?!” he challenged.

She crossed her arms and raised her chin defiantly.  “You’re standing in front of me right now wondering whether you want to win this bet or if you’re better off losing it.  Aren’t you?”

The mighty dragon king puffed up his chest and stretched to his full height, as if to intimidate his wife… and then threw up his hands in surrender, deflating like a punctured bladder.  “Ohne Scheiss!  Fine.  You have a deal!  Done!”

“Done!”  Channah immediately responded, laughing as they shook hands, the gesture just formal and stylized enough even Penny and Chastity could tell it was a binding commitment they both took seriously.  Notwithstanding the fact Channah leaned forward over their still-clasped hands for another kiss and giggle.

Turning away, Channah’s eyes fell on Penny’s angry red face and she came up short, laughing in genuine surprise:  “What is wrong with you, my little lapdog?!”

“You—you—”

“Domina!” she reminded her sharply, a pleased smirk creeping into the corners of her mouth when Penny started over:

“Domina, you—you just—bargained us away like—like—”

“Chattel?” she suggested, quite consciously and deliberately returning Penny’s reckless, impulsive, unintended stare.  And she burst out laughing again when Penny looked flummoxed and even more furious.

Hellooo!  Welcome to the club, Arschkriecher!” Jacob sneered caustically.  “Where have you been?  Maybe this one’s the bimbo!”

“But Domina—” emotions chased one another across Penny’s face, none of them easing her tense—and intense—stance.  Then, softly, but if anything, with greater intensity than before:  “I love you!”

“Awww…. That’s so sweet.  I want to kiss you.”  She sat down on the edge of the bench cushions.  “But not just yet.”  Seizing Penny’s hair and wrapping it around her fist, she commanded:  “Open wide and  lean back!”  As she did so, she held out one hand toward Miriam and used the other to pull Penny gently but steadily back by the hair until she fell to her knees with her head face up on Channah’s thigh, her mouth obediently open.  Miriam handed Channah a rag and a bottle of clear spirits and Channah raised these a few inches above Penny’s lips to keep the bottle clean before tipping it over.  “I think by now, you know what this is going to feel like, so I don’t want any histrionics.  I expect you to be a big girl and swish it around for at least one minute before you swallow it!”  And with that, she poured about half a jigger’s worth into Penny’s mouth, pausing when Penny’s eyes shot open and started watering and Penny snapped her mouth shut.  “Pathetic, baby, but just barely adequate as long as you do not swallow.  Yet.  Swish.  Swish!” she repeated, as she let go of Penny’s hair and poured more clear spirits onto the rag, then began scrubbing Penny’s face vigorously, with special attention around her lips.  “That-a-girl!  Open wide again as soon as you swallow and I’m going to give you more since that first sip was so tiny—good girl!” she cooed, pouring again as Penny, hesitantly, with a tense expression, forced her lips slightly apart, smiling with a cruel satisfaction as she saw how hard Penny had had to struggle to do as she was told instead of spitting the harsh liquid out or choking it down.  “Aaand a third…. If I taste the slightest hint of filth in your mouth I’m going to let Jacob or my hubby beat you tonight.  Or maybe both of them.”  This time, she could tell, Penny made a Herculean effort to accept as much liquor as she could stand, and to swish it as hard and as long as she could bear, before choking it down with a sad sound.

“Oooooh… baby…. That’s my sweet, brave girl!” she cooed, finally leaning forward to kiss her wife, licking around the inside of her mouth.  “Mmm… those spirits are rough and tough, aren’t they?   But here.”  She set the spirits down, picked up her own wine glass, filled her mouth with a generous drink, and then returned her lips to Penny’s, holding her chin in place while she forced the wine into Penny’s mouth, with her big tongue following it in to both aggressively-occupy, and gently-tease, her wife’s mouth.  Miriam, Rivqah, and even Húanglóng whooped and clapped in approval as Channah demonstrated how thoroughly Penny was in her power and under her spell, making a mess on Penny’s face and her own leg under Penny’s head by slowly and steadily pouring more wine into her mouth without completely disengaging their kiss.  Penny swallowed frantically, gasping and struggling to show her obedience, minimize spilling, and breathe all at once.

Pausing a moment to look down with a smugly satisfied expression upon her pliant, gasping jariya (who was staring back up at her with something that looked like adoration and acceptance), Channah licked the excess wine off her own lips and whispered:  “This is your night, baby.  Yours, too, Chastity,” she spared a glance up at her other wife, before looking back down to enjoy the sight of her handiwork a moment longer.  “Tonight—so to speak—all bets are off.  You’re still mine, of course.  But games aren’t any fun if your opponents aren’t trying their best!  Jacob, you’ve gamed with me before, haven’t you?”

“Yes, Domina, at one of—”

But she cut him off without ever even breaking eye contact with Penny.  “And you think I’m a hateful bitch, don’t you?”

Jacob hesitated.

“I know you want to agree…”. Channah smirked with pleasure.

“I—no one likes being treated—you know—”

“You’re wrong about that, but I take your point.  You don’t like it, do you?”

“I hate it,” he blurted, venom spraying out of his mouth that—if it were chemical rather than emotional—would have burned every surface it touched, surprising even himself.

For her part, Channah gasped, looking up with an intense, aroused expression.  “You really know how to get my attention, don’t you?  Either that, or you’re so bunged- and bottled-up you can’t help yourself.”  She shrugged carelessly.  “Either way, it’s fine for me.  As much as you hate me—you can’t say I cheated at anything as important at Tarot, can you?”

“No, Your Majesty,” he subsided back into formal servility, perhaps regretting the possible consequences of his earlier outbursts.  “That’s true.”

Looking back down at Penny, she asked:  “Did you hear that?”

“Yes, Domina.”

And with an ugly, sexy, mean, hot, taunting tone and expression, she challenged Penny:  “If you actually have a problem with me being a total bitch who relishes humiliating and ignoring chattel like you, tonight’s the night to show it.  It’s like the ancient Greek festival of Anthesteria.  I’ll bet your priests didn’t teach you about that, did you?  No?  Of course not.  I’m sure they skipped over all the really interesting festivals.  At the Anthesteria, slaves were allowed to participate and party with the free citizens and even their masters, as equals.  For that one night, any servant or slave with the guts to do so, could treat their lords and masters as equals, and their lords and masters had to accord them equal respect.”  Breaking the intense gaze she and Penny were sharing, she looked up at Jacob, her lip curling in contempt, an unmistakable challenge.  “I wonder if you would have stepped up, or slunk away?”  Then she looked back down at Penny with the same challenging, insulting disrespect.  “And you?  Ha!  This is your chance, pussy.  If you really have any ounce of fire or masculinity in your tiny little purse, show it tonight.  Raise the stakes, high enough to make me care.  If you dare, dumpling.  And then beat me at cards and force me to renegotiate with my husband.” She snorted with laughter.  “Our husband!” she corrected herself, leaning forward and kissing Penny forcefully on the lips, driving her tongue hard into Penny’s mouth again to seal the challenge and making her gag before half-releasing her, half-throwing her aside.  Looking aggressively around the room, meeting every other eye as if seeing what she might provoke, she drank more wine and barked:  “We’ll play here.  Do you girls even know what playing cards are?” she asked harshly.

“Yes, Domina!”  Chastity responded glad to be able to claim her attention for a moment.

“Go to the adjacent parlor and bring back all the cards you can find.  You—” she jabbed a finger down at Penny.  “Pull the tallest of the benches into the middle of the room, without a cushion, so we can use it as a table.  And then pull lower benches, with the best cushions on them, around it for us to play.”  Then, humming, she walked over to the lacquered wooden boxes containing the wedding gifts for each of her wives and picked through them, while the Dragon King and her Duchesses exchanged an amused, excited glance.

A few German words and expressions you may come across

Arschgeige—ass-violin Arschkriecher—ass-kisser Die Wand anschreien—scream at the wall (vomit) Drachen—dragon Führer, Führerin—leader Gelbe—yellow Große—big Herzöge—dukes Im Kreis kotzen—vomiting in circles (feeling annoyed) König—kingKönigin—queen Ohne Scheiss—without shit Penisse—penis Prinzessinnen—princesses Pumpel—loud fart Runde—round Schätzchen—sweetie Scheiss die Wand an—shit on the wall (what the hell) Sukkubus—succubus Zuckerbär—sugar-bear Zuckerschlange—sugar-snake

Literature Section “07-37 Dirty, Unholy Bets and Bargains”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 37 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4997 words—Accompanying Images:  2208-2221—Published 2025-09-02—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, prostatestimulation, creampie, cleanup, orgasm, triplepenetration, and orgy themes at 07-36X Honeymoon Hivemind Clusterfuck at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah’s best friends, concerned about their liege lady’s well-being and the rumors beginning to circulate in hell, decide to crash her honeymoon with Penance and Chastity, bringing her First Husband, the Dragon King, and two other prize pieces of beefcake along for Channah to ride, while forcing her two brides to help cook breakfast for and serve the lovers; before her First Husband dressed down her Secondary Wives for marrying Channah without his consent.  NOW:

Rivqah had noticed George’s giant appendage beginning to stir at the sight of Húanglóng spanking Chastity and she leaned over, beginning to stroke him and whispering in his ear:  “You like seeing girls get spanked, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he admitted, pinkening with embarrassment, but hardly able to deny the physical evidence unrolling in front of him.  “I—I like seeing anybody get spanked, but—but especially gurls, I think.  T-girls.”

“I think it’s time for our Queen’s big moment,” Miriam suggested to Rivqah.  “And since you’re stealing my stud—”

“Hey!  Fair’s fair!”  They both laughed, as Miriam stood, walked around George and Rivqah, and knelt in front of Jacob, looking up in his eyes as she began tickling him, enjoying the way his breath caught and the sly smile that started forming on his lips despite his best efforts to remain moody and resentful.  “Don’t be such a pill!” she whispered to him good-naturedly.  “You’re about to fuck the Queen.  We all know you’re a smart and clever boy, but hello!  The succubae, on the whole, are smart and clever, so our cambions are too!  D’uh!  Don’t be pissy about the fact your ticket to ride comes from down—here—” she kissed him “Just be glad you were invited at all.  You’ve impressed the Queen, as well as us!”  And she dove down.

Jacob groused:  “Don’t you think she likes it better, knowing how much it pisses me off?!”  Miriam popped him out of her mouth, making a mock-surprised face at Rivqah, who tried to stifle her own laugh in return.  Still looking at Rivqah, Miriam hissed:  “I think we all prefer that, now that you mention it.”

I certainly do,” Rivqah answered.  “And just did, in fact.  Petulant little brat!  So let the wittle baby be all steamy and mad so Channah can really enjoy him!”

The conflicting expressions on Jacob’s face, of vindication and rage to have confirmed his suspicions were correct, were priceless.  But fortunately for their plans, he didn’t seem to be any better than Penny and Chastity at reining in his passions today.

While continuing to spank Chastity, who cried and wailed and twisted but couldn’t budge Húanglóng’s powerful hold a single inch, Húanglóng continued addressing all three of his wives, lead wife and secondary wives alike.  “Chastity is a girl.  She knows she’s a girl, she accepts she’s a girl, and yes, having been born a male, it’s perfectly understandable the shame she feels.  Of course she’s ashamed!  She was meant to be a man!  Anyone born a male with even an ounce of pride would do everything in their power to fulfill their destiny as a man.  But she’s given all that up and defied God’s laws and plans just so she can pursue her weak, greedy, selfish little cherished fantasy.  She is a rightly-ashamed little girl.  Now get back down in your place and thank me for spanking you and accepting you for what little you are!”

As Chastity scrambled to obey, holding her blistered bottom and whining fussily, hissing when she tried to lie down on her back and felt the pain from her freshly-abused bottom, Húanglóng snapped his fingers to summon his other ceshi:  “Penance Batonnoir!  Come here this instant!”  At the same time, Channah was motioning for Esmeray to come over to her, even as she began pouring wine on her husband’s left foot so it dribbled into Chastity’s mouth as she waited for Esmeray to pick her way across the room.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Daddy, please—” Penny whimpered, unable to cover her bottom with her bound hands but trying her best to keep it away from Húanglóng.

“Don’t you dare sass me, girl.  Get over here!” Húanglóng seized her arm and threw her over Húanglóng’s right knee, using his right hand and left leg to lock her in place the same way she had held Chastity over her other knee a few moments ago. 

“No, Daddy, please!” Penance whined, her attempt at resistance as satisfying as it was ineffective.  When Húanglóng’s powerful right hand pushed her head down she knew she was his and fell limp, crying and waiting for his inevitable discipline, which promptly began, the lord’s left hand rising and falling with every bit of the speed and force he had used on her sister. 

Penny immediately started bawling, which Húanglóng calmly put a stop to by pausing his spanking just long enough so Penny quieted down enough to hear Húanglóng explain:  “I’m going to keep spanking you until I’ve finished lecturing you.  If you’re making too much noise to listen, I’m simply going to keep spanking you without even starting my lecture, until you hush your mouth.  So, it’s up to you.  If you want your spanking to continue all day long, missy, you keep bawling.”  And with that, Húanglóng resumed, spanking systematically, hard, and rapidly as Penny tried desperately to stifle her cries, wiggling and kicking over Húanglóng’s knee and doing her best to keep quiet long enough for Húanglóng to finish lecturing her.

“I can’t remember ever dealing with a bigger baby in my life,” Húanglóng began, shaking his head disapprovingly.  “It’s like you almost want to be beaten!  Has no one ever explained to you that nothing makes a demon want to hit you more, than knowing you’re weak and vulnerable and suffering?”

“Oh, I’ve told him,” Rivqah promised.

“As have I,” Miriam added.

“And I,” Channah laughed.  “But she’s hard-headed.  And ‘sensitive.’”  Everyone laughed, as Channah handed off the bottle of double-spiked wine to Esmeray and made her way to where Miriam was fluffing Jacob.  “Is it showtime?!” she asked her friend excitedly.

And Rivqah, without taking her eyes off George’s snake, which was slowly stretching and hardening under the attention of her fingers, answered:  “Yes it is, my liege!  The scarlet cushion is prepared for you.  We tried to anticipate everything….”

“Oh, thank you dear, that’s so thoughtful,” Channah paused, stroking Miriam’s hair appreciatively.  “Taking such special care of my boy.  If you need one, we can bring over a sissy to finish the fluffing?”

Miriam observed:  “Húanglóng is doing so well with them, I hesitate to interfere.  And I don’t mind, Jacob’s delicious.”  And she resumed working on Jacob while Channah, plucking a jar of lube from a tabletop, turned around and backed up, straddling Miriam, her thighs touching her handmaid’s shoulders, thrusting her bottom back until it was a few inches above Miriam’s neck—and therefore, right in Jacob’s face—and the top half of her body was bending forward, resting one hand on Miriam’s backside.  “Get me ready for you, Jacob?” she pouted, holding the jar behind her and making appreciative noises as Jacob, chuckling, warmed the oil in his hands before rubbing it on Channah’s bottom.

Meanwhile, Húanglóng continued spanking and lecturing helpless, panting, trying-her-hardest-not-to-cry Penance:  “I’m very upset with you, young lady!”

“I—I—I’m sorr—rree—Daddy!” she wailed, biting her lip to quiet down again instead of crying.

“For what?”

“I don’t know—whatever I did to upset you, Daddy!  I want to please you so much!”

“That’s good, but apologizing for nothing, accomplishes nothing.  I—want—you—to—listen!”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry!”

“Chastity is ashamed because she could have been a man, but she wanted—wants!—to be a weak woman instead.  But you said you wanted to be a man!”

“I do, Daddy, I do, but I know I’m not!”

Obviously not!  And what did your Domina tell you?”

“I don’t kn—lots of things, Master!  I mean Daddy!”

“What did she tell you about whether you were a man or a girl?”

“She told me I was a girl before I even knew it,” Penance whined, sobbing silently as the blows kept falling, using her shackled hands for the only thing she could use them for, pressing them into her mouth when she wasn’t talking to muffle her whimpering, so hopefully she wouldn’t upset her Daddy even more. 

“And you want to be a man—as if you could!  You’re lying over a bull’s lap locked up in chastity and being spanked while your wife gets ready for real men.  Hello!  Does that make you a man?”

“No, Sir, no Daddy!”

“What does it make you?”

“A sissy cuck, Sir,” Penny confessed miserably.

“You want to be something you’re not—a man!”  Húanglóng’s laugh spoke volumes, and practically wilted Penance right in front of her eyes.  “In defiance of your Domina!”

“No, Master—Sir—Daddy!  I mean Daddy!  I swear I would never defy my Domina!  I love my Domina!”

“Liar!” Húanglóng growled, shaking his head.  “You’re just digging yourself a deeper hole, young lady.”

“I swear! I swear!” Penny screeched desperately.  “I’m telling you the truth!”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, oh yes, I promise of course ofcourseI’mtellingyouthetruthsir!”

“If you’re telling me the truth, I’ll let you up this instant.  But if I can prove you’re lying, it will go very badly for you!”

“I’m telling the truth!  I promise!  I swear!”

“We’ll see.  Did your Domina tell you you’re a girl?”

“Yes sir!  Yes she did, Daddy! Oww ow oww…”

“And have you accepted what your Domina has decided for you?  Or are you defying your Domina, and indeed your very—obvious—nature by hoping and fantasizing you’re a man?”

“I—oh—oh no,” Penny moaned, understanding Húanglóng’s point.

“Answer me!”

“I’m—yes!  I’m sorry!  I am defying my Domina, Daddy!  Daddy, I didn’t I didn’t—iiieeee!”  She squealed and twisted as Húanglóng, feeling it was time to make her pay for her defiance, picked up a belt from the bed beside him and began applying it to Penance’s ass, its steady crack exciting the succubae in the room as much as it sent Penny to the bare edge, almost suffocating herself to try and remain quiet until Húanglóng was finished with what he needed to say.

“You better be quiet, sissy!  You’ve already lied to me and defied your Domina!  Do you want to get in even more trouble?”

“No, I’m sorry, Sir!  I’m sorry!” and she twisted her body just enough so she could push her face into the crack between Húanglóng’s hip and the bedsheet to muffle her own cries more effectively than she could do with her hands alone.

“So to recap:  Have you defied your Domina?”

“Yes Master—ow!” she began.

“And have you lied to me?”

“Yes Daddy I’m so sorry for being a bad boy—I didn’t mean to, I promise!”

Another promise?  Really?  So soon after your previous false promise has been exposed?”

“Yes Dadd—I mean no, Daddy!!  Ow!”

“Then let’s try my question again, and this time, just answer me as you’ve been instructed to!”

“Yes Sir, Daddy sir!”

“Have you lied to me?!”

“Yes, Daddy!”

“And did you defy me?!”

“No Daddy nev—I—I don’t know Daddy, I’m sorry, I—I don’t know!”

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?!”

“I mean—I mean—I can’t think of any—I can’t think of how I’d defy you, but I’m afraid I did something accidentally without realize—”

“Did you tell your Domina and me, just now, that you want to have sex with women, not men?”

“Yes, Daddy!  I remember that Daddy!” she said gratefully, nodding frantically.  “Yes, I said that Daddy!”

After I, a man, warned you I planned to use you for sex?!”

“What?! Oh—oh I see, I’m so sorry!  I did that too, Master!  I’m bad.  I’m stupid.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorrreee!” she wailed before forcing her mouth and nostrils down into the crack between her spanker’s leg and the bedspread to silence herself again.

“Yes!  You!  ARE!  I! Expect! You! To! Do! Better!”

“Yes, Daddy!”

“You’d better!”

“I will!  I promise I will!” Penny squealed and then started bawling.  “I can’t—I can’t stop crying!  It hurts too much, Daddy!  Daddy, my bottom hurts!  I’m sorry for crying, I know I’m a crybaby—”

“Lilith and Cain!”  Húanglóng rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “You need to stop crying and start apologizing.  Get on your knees in front of me.  Right!  This! Instant!”

“Yessir, Yesdaddy!”  Penny dropped like a sack of potatoes from her position over Húanglóng’s knee to her knees between Húanglóng’s feet, still sobbing, now facing Húanglóng and immediately moueing at what she saw.  At what filled her vision.

“Chastity!  Get up here, right next to your sister!”

“Yes, Daddy!” Chas yelped, moving with alacrity to push to her knees, and then squiggle in tight against Penny, the two of them tightly crammed together to fit between Húanglóng’s knees.  Húanglóng took their heads and pushed them together, cheek to cheek.  “If the crybaby can shut her mouth for one instant!” (she could, sounding like a greased pig dropped into a sloped sewer pipe) “you can hear the adults are getting ready to play again.  Can’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy!” the girls nodded frantically, in no doubt as to what they were hearing:  Channah moaning with pleasure; Jacob grunting with satisfaction; George gasping and writhing.

“You two have frustrated me and forced me to focus on punishing you, instead of celebrating with my principal wife!  That’s inexcusable and now you need to make it up to me—and her—by getting me caught up.  Tell me the truth:  Do you two sissies want to please me?”

“Oh, YES Daddy!” They both gushed, nodding wildly.

“I want to please you so so so bad, Daddy!” Penny gushed.

“Me too!  Even more!’  Please let me please—please give me a chance to show it!” Chastity interjected.

“Do you know what my name means?  ‘Húanglóng’?”

“No Daddy,” they shook their heads, staring at the long yellow serpentine dangling in front of them.

“Yellow.  Dragon,” he whispered, softly, dramatically, and without hesitation, causing the girls to gasp, understanding.  He could see they Understood.  “And I truly am that.  Now, each of you put one arm around the other, and use your other arm to hold onto my leg, so you can fit between my powerful thighs better and be reminded what sissies you are.  Your task is to charm the Yellow Dragon.  To want to do i—”

But Húanglóng didn’t even have to finish his sentence.  He chuckled.  “That’s the way, girls.  Forget all those silly ideas about being men… and wanting women… accept who you are.  And be ashamed.  Because that’s—even—fucking—hotter! Than actually embracing your own identity.  Keep being ashamed, and helplessly attracted by your own natures, all at the same time!  Your Domina taught me, long long ago, to recognize that is the sweetest of all pleasures, hotter than anything:  a human who hates what they love, doesn’t like who they are, and can’t help it even a little bit!  Hate yourselves you fucking sluts.  Hell knows, you should!  You’re pathetic!…  I know you’ve never even seen, let alone handled, a real man’s equipment, like this, before.  So let me teach you how to do it. Using your hands, and your mouths, all at once.  I know, I know, your own underdeveloped bodies barely have enough room for your index finger and thumb.”  He guffawed cruelly.  “That’s part of why they’re locked up, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” the two girls agreed, their eagerness to please him dimming their awareness of how badly they were being humiliated, as they crammed together against one another, tight between Húanglóng’s bulging steel-cable thighs, and the next moment, feeling the weight of Húanglóng’s legs on their shoulders as he settled back, sighing with pleasure as they served him and acted as his footstools.   They worked smoothly together, so crammed in by warm flesh on all sides they began to sweat as they strove assiduously to please their master, whose own needs and priorities were quickly becoming theirs.

On the other side of the large iceberg of divans in the corner, Channah climbed onto them and crawled forward to the scarlet mattress in the very middle of the large array of tightly-packed cushions, leering at Jacob and pointing straight down.  “Here.  Bottom… here, facing the room.  Head towards the corner.  Do it, Jacob, come on, baby.”

“My hand—”

“I need a cuck, Daddy!” Channah called out in a sing-song voice, provoking a snort of laughter. 

“Fine.  Which one’s the more difficult again?  For others, I mean.  They both seem like putty to me.”

“I can see that,” she admitted wryly.  “They both have issues.  But Penny’s our problem child.”

“Chastity, go attend to your Domina.”

“Oh, but Daddy, don’t you need—”

“I need you to obey!  So I can help Penny understand who—and what—she is.  Go!”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry, Daddy!” Chastity, chastened, agreed and scampered onto the bed, crawling until she reached Jacob’s hand, which Channah was pointing to.  “Yes, Domina?”

“Clean it!” she commanded, impressed once again by Húanglóng’s uncanny power to motivate humans, as Chastity went to work, only her expression and her attenuated breathing, betraying the difficulty she had with the task she had been assigned.  Yet, the enthusiasm with which she acted despite her obvious struggle, revealed how much Húanglóng had already begun to colonize her brain and penetrate her skull. 

While Chastity cleaned Jacob, Channah guided Jacob, showing him where she wanted him to lie down on his back, with his head over a gap between two mattresses.  “but the hole—why—?” Jacob began, which she quieted by placing one finger on his lips and another on his crotch before running her mouth over Jacob’s torso, smelling and kissing him all over, distracting him while she fished out the shackle she had suspected she might find near his right wrist,  Then, still moving sensuously, she climbed over him, straddling his waist and teasing him ever-so-lightly with her most-sweet and vile medlar, putting her lips against his ear and whispering as she mock-rode him, all the time fishing out the other shackle:  “Unless you’re actually a masochist, you should learn from my two pathetic cucks and check your attitude.  As a cambion, you should know better than to show me how I can hurt you by enjoying you.”  And with a giggle and a sneer, she clicked the two shackles closed on his wrists simultaneously.  “You’ve gone straight to the top of my party-invite list.  Bitch!  Now be a good little mattress boy for all of us.  It’s unfair, but…” she shrugged and straightened up, meeting his eyes as she gagged him, tying the gag in turn to the edge of the divan so his head was trapped at an angle below the plane of the cushions, enjoying his wounded outrage, drinking it up like honey.  She giggled.  “I fucking love it.  The only revenge you’re going to get is being rough with me, halfling.  So do your worst—or, I hope, your best, with the one weapon I’m leaving you.”

And with that, reversed her position, facing away from him, crawling forward so her knees were almost to his, and guiding him, groaning, moving her hips to and fro to work him deeper while she leaned forward, shackling one leg while she held the other down, correctly anticipating he would try to move it as soon as he felt what she was doing to his other leg, pinning it under her elbow until his other ankle was secured and she could bring both hands to bear on it, giggling and enjoying the frantic way he wormed and wiggled and flailed about.  “Oh baby, you move so well.  Oh, seven hells you’re so excited!  I think you are a masochist, my sweet little pouter.  A masochist cambion.  From now on, it’s gonna suck to be you and I’m going to make you thank me!  Oh!  Aaaah yessss!  Oh, yeah.  You’re going nowhere until we’re done with our mattress-boy!”  She sighed, as she settled back onto him, pushing a small pillow into the gap between his neck and the back of her head—a pillow just thick enough so that part of her, at least, would be more comfortable and she could focus on the discomforts she wanted; but thin enough that she would still be able to tip her chin back to accommodate her next lover, if not quite as far back as poor, wretched Jacob.  “Oh, yes, this is nice!  Rivqah, dear?”

“I’m here!”  Miriam chimed in, wrapping Chastity’s long blonde hair around her hand.  “Come on, Chastity dear, let’s get you cleaned up!”  Looking confused, but wanting to oblige, she let Miriam guide her to the bowl of spirits, mint, and water on the ground.  After admonishing her to wash her lips and mouth out, Miriam pushed her face right down into the bowl.  While she held Chastity under the surface, she got Esmeray’s attention and pointed to the bowl.  Nodding, Esmeray tore herself away from an almost obsessive, sickened fascination with Jacob’s assault on Channah—or was it Channah’s assault on Jacob?—and headed toward Miriam.

“Where’s Big George?  And more to the point, where’s Little Big George?”  Channah was demanding, delighted as he turned and crawled over the array of divans toward her, obeying her instructions and positioning himself above her head, his knees on either side of the gap in the cushions.  “Stop dawdling, hubby, this is no time for you to go gay on me.  I need my Long Hwang,” she snorted to her husband.  “Or I’ll find someone else to finish my trio!” she threatened, before imitating a snake trying to digest a mongoose.  She did manage to elicit an amazed groan from George that could not have failed to get Húanglóng’s attention, even if he had been able to ignore his wife.  (Which, in truth, he had never been able to do, a fact that had helped to, and continued to, shape the history of the Seven Hells in now-predictable and stabilizing ways.  No one else could see it, but Húanglóng himself, the great and charismatic persuader, knew he was not quite the most-persuasive demon in hell, even if the gifts he did have, came more easily to him than to others.

“I wouldn’t miss this—or you—for the world or hell below it, my love,” he assured her sincerely enough, manhandling Penny with her hair as he lumbered to his knees on the bed and approached her, pulling Penny along beside him, forcing her to try to keep up.  “Now the question is—where do you want to feel your little cucks’ mouths?”

With a derisive snort, but without slipping off Big George, she shook her head sharply.

“Not at all?” He asked, a little surprised.  “I guess if they couldn’t satisfy you on their own, they don’t have much to contribute to our orgy.  I’m going to have them hold your ankles and worship your feet,” he proposed, pleased to see her quick nod of agreement and shiver of anticipation.  “I know what my baby doll likes.  Get over there, cuck!  Hold it up above her hips and waist so there’s plenty of room for me!” he jerked Penny’s head towards Channah’s left foot, all of them pleased to see how eagerly the auburn-haired girl scurried to her assigned station, even as Chastity was released by Miriam to service her right foot.  “That will free my hands to…” and as the Yellow Dragon slithered, he demonstrated, placing one thumb close above his own flesh and the other on her wrist, gently drawing her hand to his mouth to kiss her palm sweetly, releasing her hand and moving his own hand toward her right breast.  “Big George!  My boy!” He growled around his kisses.  “If you hadn’t put it together yet, this experience is all about extreme stimulation for our goddess.  It’s impossible to overwhelm a succubus, but conversely, it’s almost impossible to make them feel fully stimulated.  It’s the one challenge I—I never seem to grow weary of attempting, no matter how many centuries roll slowly past.  So don’t be lazy!  Attend to your Queen!”

“Yes, m’Lord, of course—but—ungh—how else?”

“You have two hands and a mouth, son.  Use them!  She still has one neglected nipple and along with her feet and her erogenous zones, she likes to have her hands kissed and stroked!  So attend to her other one!”

Below them, between them, cocooned within them all, Channah shuddered with the rare intensity of what she was experiencing, as Miriam and Rivqah exchanged a look that was at once pleased—for their Mistress—and envious. 

“Tiferet, dear,” Rivqah sighed.  “I don’t know how you can stand your work!  Always seeing, being exposed to… possibilities, without getting to play.”

“Don’t pity me, Your Grace,” she scoffed at the thought.  “I’ve learned to enjoy the anticipation.  And I’ve learned a lot… so many ideas to practice with my own lovers and thralls….”

“Well, I don’t have your patience,” Rivqah shook her head sadly.  “I want a way to play right now, but our Mistress—happily—is enjoying every unlocked toy in the room, and even the complete focus of the ones who are locked!”

“Well, as an observer,” Tiferet mused drolly, “I count at least one, two, three, and four accessible holes….”

Rivqah and Miriam exchanged a quick, almost embarrassed look.  “We hadn’t thought of that…. even more than other succubae, Her Majesty likes to play as a female,” Miriam admitted.

“And it is definitely the best way to play,” Rivqah agreed.

“But when in Rome…”

Rivqah snorted.  “I’m not sure that’s actually an apt analogy my dear, but I take your point.”  Crawling up behind Húanglóng, she pressed herself against his broad, powerful, chubby back and moaned:  “Your Majessssttttyyyy… could we—could I—play with you, too?  It’s been soooo loooong since you’ve touched me, and I’ve never—”

Húanglóng grunted.  “As tempting as you are my dear, that must be for another time.  This is a gift for my wife, and the way she’s reacting…” he shivered.  “I’m completely focused on her and wouldn’t want it any other way.  Not just at this second.  Go fuck a cuck, but if and only if you can do so without distracting them from their proper attentions.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Majesty,” she answered.  Slumping in half-real, half-mock disappointment, Rivqah pouted to Miriam and Tiferet, who tried without success to keep from sniggering.  “Well, I at least want to try someone new!” she cried, pouncing on Chastity.

“No fair!  We’ve both had Penny before!  She’s used,” Miriam sulked, continuing Rivqah’s game.

Húanglóng roared with laughter.  “Cucks are made to be used.  If you’re suggesting my wife hasn’t used the other one yet, she doesn’t just need us, she needs a doctor!”  Even Channah couldn’t help laughing at that, it coming out as a gagging, half-drowning sound that caused George to shiver in surprise.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Miriam whined.  “I’ll take the copperhead.  Again.”  Dipping her fingers in the jar of olive oil, she passed it to Rivqah, who in turn took a share and passed it back to Esmeray as the two succubae took advantage of their Queen’s two housegifts.  “Remember, little tightass,” Miriam murmured into Penny’s ear, enjoying every part of intimacy, “try to loosen your body to match your mouth,” feeling the girl shudder as she entered her, reaching around front of her to hold her tight and taking a surprised breath, remembering how much she had changed since the last time she had hands on the girl.  “I forgot… you have big soft beautiful boobies now!  You ARE kind-of-like new!” she gushed enthusiastically.  “That’s the way, little girl.  Keep it firmly in your mind to be a Pleaser not a Princess today.  Please me, and at the same time, don’t you dare break your concentration on my Mistress because if I have to pull out and sit this scene out, I’m going to beat you like a rented mule the rest of the day!”

“And that goes double for you, bimbo!” Rivqah cried, slapping Chastity’s hips and then her breasts, hard, for emphasis, before snuggling up to her in unconscious imitation of Miriam, spooning their kneeling lover girls and cradling them up front even as they pierced them behind.

Penny felt strangely calm:  Calmer than she had ever felt before in her life, with a sense of peace and a sense of purpose that dovetailed perfectly. 

The Dragon King’s secret power was ultimately his reasonableness, Penny reflected.  Like Channah, he had shown himself to be smarter and more knowledgeable than Penny.  For a girl like her, who viewed and understood the world through her sense of reason—a smart girl of reason, whose reason usually concluded, with ironclad evidence, that she understood things better than the impulsive, emotional, superstitious fools around her—it was unsettling to confront a greater intelligence, like being punched in the solar plexus and winded, suddenly deprived of the thing she normally took for granted to such an extent, the notion of being without it was shocking and alarming.

Even Penny, as close as she knelt to the Dragon King even now, their knees braced against one another, skin to skin; their arms brushing one another as Penny delicately and lovingly cradled her goddess’s foot, musing on how blessed she felt to be the caretaker of such a sacred and precious part of her Domina.  A part, she admitted to herself with a flash of embarrassment, that was one of her very favorite parts.  Which, in turn, she blushed thinking how weird that sounded.  Or, if she was more honest, that it actually was a little weird…. No! She didn’t fucking care, she thought daringly.  If other people looked down on her, didn’t she already look down on herself?  So what if others confirmed it?  Was this not where she wanted to be?  Didn’t it feel right, like she was exactly where she deserved (and wanted) to be?  The smell of her goddess was so subtle here, so intimate, as soft as the pads on her toes and the balls of her feet and her heels… and warm.  Her Domina was so warm and alive and beautiful and—had she lost her train of thought?  She shook her head infinitesimally and remembered:  The Dragon. 

The Dragon King.  He was doing… something to her.  Her reason told her this; and the laughing succubae around them had implied as much.  But whatever he was doing… Penny knew he wasn’t incorrect:  wanting to be a man… wishing she could possibly someday manage to be any bit of a man… if she really imagined it was possible, that would make it a rebellion, and she was lucky the Dragon King hadn’t punished her as harshly as rebellion deserved!  Truly the Dragon King was merciful and… almost obliging in a roundabout way.  Nice, she decided.  A kind and tolerant man, who showed even Penny a kind of respect everyone around her in her life had made it clear to her she didn’t deserve.  And she definitely didn’t want to rebel—not against him, certainly not against her Domina! 

Avoiding rebellion was something she could only claim as a success and a credit to her if she knew and accepted she could never be a man, if she knew, in fact, she was a girl. But giving up forever—wasn’t that just as damning to her as allowing the demons to sodomize and debauch her in the first place?  Only if she could accept that the weakness and the failure were hers and hers alone, and therefore confirm that her Domina’s desire for her to be the girl she was meant to be was true to her and for her, could she show her true commitment and devotion to her Domina.  And the thing was… she believed her Domina, in that and really almost everything.  Definitely everything that mattered.  Penny knew in her heart she could not be the man she wanted to be, or even a boy.  Unlike Chastity, who knew she was a girl because of her own desire to be one, Penny knew she was a girl because she was utterly incapable of being a man—she lacked the cock, the balls, the stamina, the strength, the feral nature, even the urges and desires of a man, responding only when she was treated and pleasured like a woman. 

And the truth of the matter, she knew, was that she wanted to honor and obey and comply with her Domina’s commands, to live according to her Domina’s rule; even if she could have been a man… would she have dared, or wanted, to pursue her own desires rather than her Domina’s?  Her amazing Domina had decided she ought to be a girl; shouldn’t that be enough?  She was caged and allowed only to worship her Domina’s foot because that was what gave her Domina pleasure.  Penny’s true pleasure came from serving hers.  She knew, because she couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere other than where she was now, helping her goddess, serving her goddess, worshipping her goddess in the only, tiny, tertiary way she was capable, given her physical and mental disabilities and limitations. 

As wrong as she knew her love was for a demoness, it was there; and it was love, and God was love.  And there could be no doubt her demoness was in some way, indeed in most ways, everything but religion, more and greater than Penny herself—more important, more significant, longer-lived, outsized in influence, more powerful… and, God in Heaven forgive her, her goddess knew her, intimately and directly and more deeply, so much so it was hard to tell where one of them ended and the other one began sometimes.  To be allowed so close to her, given so much of her attention… Penny’s shoulders slumped as it all came together for her, partly in defeat, but mainly in the calm and restful acceptance that she was meant to yield to her amazing goddess.  To stroke her sensuous soles, to suck on her big round soft toes, to press her fingertips and thumbtips into the pudgy, delicate, perfectly-shaped ball and heel of her foot… to know that her goddess was feeling and experiencing her servant’s touch, even when it was just a tiny part of what she felt, a tiny fraction of the significance of her other lovers, her real lovers….  Penny was simply not her Domina’s equal, and therefore could not possibly be her ‘lover’; it would be like an ant proposing partnership with a whale.  Or an aardvark, a part of her whispered.  But no matter what analogy one might fashion, she could never be the kind of equal her goddess needed.  She could only, at best, be a pet:  a domesticated animal kept by her goddess and allowed to provide her with some narrow part of what she needed.  Attending to her feet, goddess, what an honor…. Fetching her slippers, perhaps, if Penny were her actual dog…

Whatever the Dragon King was doing to Penny today, at this very instant, Penny realized, it was supportive.  Because normally, when Penny hit one of those rare moments where she had to ask if her reason and wit and perception were wrong, it inspired panic and fear.  The Dragon King had peeled back the scales from her eyes, and done it so gently, holding Penny tenderly in his hands… or, Penny blushed at the thought, in his gorgeous feet—yes, why not? She thought defiantly to herself… it was more accurate, anyway!  Clearly she had a little thing for his feet, too….

But however embarrassing that was, or unmanly, or should be—none of it mattered at all.  She tried to let go of all the aspirations and anxieties and failures, the focus on thing she was not and could not be, in favor of focusing on the thing she actually was, and could be, and even, could do really well, probably a lot better than someone like Roger who lacked the reverence Penny felt for her goddess Channah…..  So Penny breathed peacefully, worshiped genuinely, and obeyed rightly, putting everything above her station out of mind.  Even the Bible exhorted believers to help and to serve others; and the Dragon King, like the Succubus Queen before him, had shown Penance a new level of service, a new height in her genuine and real urge to help and to serve and to care for others.  She could easily imagine a life of service to her Domina and her First Husband, how fulfilling it would be, and how grateful it would make her feel, and that was all she imagined as she inhaled and kissed her Domina’s feet with even deeper passion and connection than before.

Miriam’s insistence behind her, entering her, taking her, holding her so tightly, touching her sensitive breasts… her transformation into a girl had awakened in her feelings and desires that were not so different from those she had experienced as a boy, but instead added to them, even multiplied them.  How could she object to a transformation that made more of her body into a playground and a means of deep connection to others?  Miriam’s fingertips, rolling Penny’s nipples while her palms hugged Penance’s breasts… before today, before now, she couldn’t even have imagined how good it would feel to be loved in your root and in your heart and even in your head—where Miriam’s kisses, on the back of Penny’s neck, were giving her goosebumps—all at once! 

“You could never be a distraction, Mistress Miriam,” she heard herself moaning out loud.  “You just make me feel more loved by my Domina who I’m so lucky to be allowed to worship at all…”

“Aww… that’s sweet!” Miriam sounded surprised, but certainly pleased.

“I want you to sweet-talk me!” Rivqah pinched Chastity’s nipples on the other side of Channah.

“I’m sorry, Mistress Rivqah,” Chastity gasped around Channah’s right foot.  “I know I don’t have Penny’s sweet words, but I promise you—and our Domina—that I feel the same way.  I swear it!”

Rivqah’s face softened.  “Well, that is nice,” she conceded.

“And it’s true!” Chastity insisted.

“Of course we feel this way, Mistress Rivqah!” Penny moaned.  “You both are so smart and beautiful and passionate, and loyal to our Domina.  And our Domina…” Penny sighed.  “She—I just—there aren’t the words to say how amazing she is for us, how much we need her.  How connected we are to her—”

“Yes, Penny!” Chastity cried.

“Even though we’re just nothing—”

“We’re so grateful!” Chastity gushed

“Of course we are!  So in love….” Penance purred, rubbing her cheek on the outer edge of her Domina’s foot, then kissing it softly but deeply in the tender arch, feeling so close to Channah precisely because she knew how insignificant Penny was, and therefore how inclusive and secure her goddess’s love was and must be to have embraced her.  “And we are so grateful to the Dragon King for showing us how special our opportunity to serve our goddess, our Domina, and her First Husband, truly are.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty!” Chastity agreed, neither knowing nor caring if the Dragon King responded because she meant it so completely and her sense of connection and participation was so total.

Rivqah bit her lip, imperfectly preventing herself from laughing, a sound Penny heard echoed behind her.  Meeting her eyes, Rivqah explained:  “You girls are perfect for succubae, you’ve got it so bad….”

“I know,” Penance sighed blissfully.  “Of course Domina was right, we were made for her… made to serve her and her First Husband and Handmaids and—”

“Everyone in her Court,” Chastity agreed, finishing Penance’s thought.  “I feel—everything is perfect,” Chastity smiled beatifically, planting a sweet, gentle kiss on Channah’s pinkie toe, trying to communicate and to feel, with that one touch, all the love she felt.

“Everything except—” Penny started, and then stopped, her voice crestfallen.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so greedy.”

“I want to hear it,” Miriam suggested, nibbling on the back of Penny’s neck and making her shiver.  “Tell me… it’s okay.  Your love for your Domina is undoubted….”

“My penis,” she whispered.  “I mean—my clitty.  It hurts so bad and—and I want—”

“We’re so horny!” Chastity blurted out, finishing Penny’s thought.

All the demons laughed, even Channah, even George, who offered:  “I guess it does kind of suck to be you two.”

“You can’t make her laugh,” Rivqah laughed at George.  “Do you have any idea how hard it is to breathe when you’re doing what she’s doing?  It takes perfect timing!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” George apologized, genuinely.  “Should I—”

“You should shut up and stay in your rhythm so she can breathe and we can all hear more of this arousing talk from our two little philosophers here,” Rivqah suggested good-naturedly.  “And while I can only agree it would suck to be either of these losers, I feel compelled to point out:  it’s not our fault!  This is not our doing!  These girls’ existence sucked before we ever came along.”

“I know that now,” Penance sighed wistfully.  “I know that’s true.  I’m—the Dragon King has helped me see how, you know…”

“Worthless?”  Chastity suggested.

“Yes, worthless!” Penance agreed.  “That’s exactly it!  How nothing we were before she came into our lives and let us finally mean something, even if it’s a tiny something, by being part of her life!”

“Aw….” Rivqah agreed, sharing a devilish look with Miriam, even as the Dragon King shook with silent laughter of his own.

“I’m sorry,” Penny apologized, noticing.  “I didn’t mean to disrupt you, I know we should all be concentrating on our Domina—”

“We should, but the dirty talk coming out of your filthy, shame-ridden mouth is so hot you need to keep it up!”  Rivqah encouraged them.

“It’s true,” Miriam murmured around Penny’s ear, her breath hot and wet and ticklish even as the steady motion of her hips was like the ocean lulling Penny’s little boat to a peaceful sleep. 

“Actually,” Rivqah commanded, “hush now—it’s time!”  And at the exact same moment, Miriam and Húanglóng both gasped:  “She’s ready!”

Penny opened her mouth to ask what they meant but fell silent at Rivqah’s narrowed warning eyes, accepting her place and sinking back completely into her dream about Channah’s perfect feet, even as she felt the pressure on her female sex organ getting harder and more insistent, commanding her attention and somehow communicating to her exactly what the demons were talking about.  She realized all of the demons and half-demons around them, and therefore she and Chastity—rocked by their partners the same way their Domina was being rocked by her First Husband—were suddenly moving in synch with Him and with one another, their tempo and force both slowly gaining.  She could see it, the way Rivqah’s and even Húanglóng’s eyes started to lose their focus on the world around them to gaze upon whatever they saw inside themselves, or whatever shared vision bound them together in their uncannily coordinated experience.

For a moment Penny saw herself from outside, or felt she was outside, until she felt her body, which was connected to theirs, and snapped back fully into it.  Penny realized the demons were bringing her with them—or maybe that she and Chastity were keeping up with the demons—that all of them were together, united in a profound way, by purpose and feeling and thought and awareness, all at once, all feeling what they needed to feel to be brought together in this way, nearly as close as Penance felt to her Domina by touching and breathing her in.

“For you, my love,” Húanglóng pledged.

“For you, Older Sister!” Rivqah and Miriam promised.

“Your Grace!” George shouted.

“Oh, oh, all for you, Domina!” Penance and Chastity swore, their own voices sounding weak and effeminate and less-convincing even to themselves, but knowing they were adding to the best of their limited abilities.

And suddenly everyone was writhing and yelling and shivering and yowling and especially, cursing and swearing.  A single explosion was tearing all of them back apart into wiggling wet solitary things, thrown deeply back into themselves with the shared secret of what they had seen and been together.

For seconds or minutes that stretched to the horizon of time, they all shook and wept and cried, unwilling to be done and absolutely unwilling to let go of the sensations and spiritual electricity that had crackled through them all.

Penny was almost done when Miriam suddenly and unexpectedly pulled out of her and pulled her down onto her back, barking:  “Get close to your Domina!  Wiggle right up to her side, but facing in the opposite direction!”  She felt like it was unfair and unreasonable that her bliss had been interrupted until she understood the bigger picture, remembering that she was just a supporting player in this drama no matter how important it felt, or it made her feel.  And more to the point, remembering that this particular experience was for Her, Penny’s Domina; and so of course, since all of them were sharing the same timeline, Penny had to move into her next position before Penny was ready, so that her Domina could move when the time was exactly and precisely right.

“We’re going to lift her off Jacob and onto the cuck,” Húanglóng explained to George.  “Hold her shoulders 1… 2… 3!”  And they raised her and plopped her down onto Penny, her whole back and buttocks wet and intense and oppressive with her sweat, perhaps mingled with that of Jacob.  Chastity was pushed to kneel between her legs so the two girls were close enough together they could have kissed one another.  But their duty—to their Domina—was kind of obvious, even to them, even before Miriam and Rivqah spelled it out:

“Bring her down, girls.  Worship her and pleasure her gently, for as long as wants to rest.  Don’t make a mess and don’t stop, no matter what, until she tells you she’s done!”  No one had to spell out the details any further than they already had.  Both girls were simultaneously post-orgasmic and frustrated beyond reason, in the exquisitely tortured place that they already knew awaited them after the womanly orgasms that were all they had been permitted.  Their ruined prostate orgasms were at once a terrible promise and a terrible denial to their caged and ever-hopeful bodies, all at once.  But satisfied or not, they were unanchored and floating and electric with the confused, mixed energies that resulted.  They were both still outside themselves and not quite back to reality, as they began assiduously worshiping their goddess-Queen.  The Dragon King calmly rested his hand on the back of Chastity’s head, emphasizing that it was the Dragon King’s mess Chastity was expected to clean and the Dragon King’s bliss Chastity had the honor of soothing Channah from.  For Penny, it was being pressed between the soft divan and her Domina’s hot, wet, sticky body that communicated the truth to her, that whatever doubt there might be about whose sweat she felt and smelled on her Domina’s skin, there was none about whose seed was squeezing out of her Domina’s body:  that of Channah’s half-demon victim, who had been trapped beneath her just as Penny was now, as nameless and disregarded and secondary and put-upon as Penny herself.

“Such… good… girls…” Channah sighed softly, when she finally spoke, but still she didn’t stir, but lay, completely relaxed, her weight moderately compressing Penny’s lungs and breath in a way that would not let her forget she was trapped under and thus passively commanded by her Domina; even as the dripping mess she was soothing with her mouth would not let her forget what contempt and disregard she was held in and thought of by the demons.

And even with all this, even being so low, she felt so right.  Being reduced to nothing like this, a continuation and indeed the natural culmination of having been used and pushed lower and lower for the pleasure of her goddess….  The result, and therefore the treatment, were right because they fit.  All the world was as it ought to be when Penny was being degraded under her goddess.

Releasing her ego and accepting this lifted such a weight off Penny’s shoulders, the weight of a lifetime of lying to herself and not knowing who she was and refusing to face her true destiny was wiped away, allowing Penny’s spine to straighten and her body live.  Because her true destiny was right here after all, just like this, being shattered and reduced and lessened in exactly this way, to exactly this existence defined by her service to Channah.  “I feel so peaceful…” she sighed, freed like a bird by the novelty of being so honest and true to herself, a self she had not even understood before now.  “So good….”  And then, even as her Domina laughed softly at her, she confessed:  “This is exactly right.  Where and how I belong.  I belong to you, Domina!”

And they both knew she completely meant it.  Because they both knew it was completely true.

Literature Section “07-36[X] Honeymoon Hivemind Clusterf***”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 36 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 8214 words::Explicit 8434 words—Accompanying Images:  2187-2196—Published 2025-08-27—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

PREVIOUSLY:  The second long, perverse, intense day of Channah’s, Chastity’s, and Penance’s honeymoon is over.  They sleep as they feel:  closer to one another than ever before, and more unequal, the internal power dynamics of their relationship further strengthened by Channah’s erotic assertive hunger, Penny’s suffering service, and Chastity’s eagerness to please and belong.  NOW:

They awoke to another perfect morning at the top of the world, a chill in the air perfectly counterbalanced by their tightly-snuggled warm bodies, and the Sun’s indirect light from behind the surrounding mountains a promise of coming warmth.  The flowers in Channah’s garden were as revived as they, blooming to greet the Sun, the air fresh and innocent as Eden, the joyous songs of birds celebrating the world’s rebirth.  All three of the lovers felt invigorated and eager for the day. 

Giggling, the girls carrying their Mistress’s sandals and dress, she led them hand-in-hand to the bath where she watched Penny pick up the jar of soap and stare at it.  Intuiting what Penny was thinking, she asked:  “It tastes awful, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Domina,” she agreed unhappily, reaching her fingers resignedly towards the jar.

“Here,” Channah interrupted her, “Let’s do this right.  Chastity—” she handed her the jar while reaching into the water to remove Penny’s chastity cage, enjoying the way her wife gasped and her eyes widened.  Then she took Penny’s hair in her hand and yanked her head back and down so Penny collapsed on her knees leaning backward in the water, feeling Channah’s legs pressing into her side.  Smiling sexily, Channah scooped up the soap and and barked:  “Open wide, bitch,” giggling and looking turned on when Penny immediately obeyed, even knowing what was coming.  Humming, she smeared the powerful soap around the inside of Penny’s mouth, scrubbing and semi-choking her.  Their eyes were locked on one another’s the whole time, intimate enough to make Chastity feel a pang of jealousy, and Channah began breathing heavier as she watched her prodding fingers force tears to form around the edges of Penny’s eyes.

When she was finished, she held Penny there, half-choking on soap, reaching under the water to confirm with a wider smile that Penny was fully hard.  “You’re coming along well as a wife.  But I’m afraid there’s not enough soap in the world for a girl as dirty as you,” she whispered, giggling as she pushed Penny’s head forward and down, half-drowning the girl as she finally let her rinse her mouth out.  When Penny finally seemed to have gotten as much of the soap out as she could, Channah kept hold of her hair and dragged her backward to the edge of the spring beside a flat rock where she had directed the girls to set her things.  Penny was again held near surface level gazing up at the beautiful blue sky and the even-more-beautiful demoness towering over her.  Fishing out a Persian hard candy, Channah put it in her own mouth, then leaned forward and down to kiss her girl, pushing the sweet and pleasant mint confection into her mouth as they made out.

Without interrupting what she was doing, she stretched her empty hand out towards Chastity and snapped her fingers impatiently.  Figuring it out, Chastity came closer to them with the jar of soap, at once glad and uncomfortable with the strange feeling of still being outside their bubble no matter how physically proximate they were. 

Channah pulled her lips off Penny long enough to murmur:  “You know how to float?”  And when Penny nodded, she commanded:  “On your back, then, bitch!”  getting more soap and laughing as she began working on Penny’s little nub when it came into view at the surface of the water, pleased with how hard it was.  Sniggering, she released her victim suddenly, making her flail to keep her head above water, and teased her:  “I’d tell you to take care of that but you might misinterpret it as permission.”  Suddenly adopting an innocent expression, she asked:  “Do you want me to hit it until it gets soft?  Or can you think good, pure, decent thoughts while you bathe the rest of your body so you’re ready for your cage before we get out?”

“I’ll try—I’ll think decent thoughts, Domina,” Penny promised hoarsely.

“Good girl.  See you do so.  And if I were you, I’d look out over the valley.  The way you’re looking at me now, your little stubby won’t be getting any better-behaved.  If you won’t fit back in your cage when I’m ready to lock you up, I’ll make it wilt.”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny agreed, embarrassed at her sharp laugh and the even sharper one when Penny turned away sharply to look out over the valley and clean herself, trying to tune that out and the noises of Channah flirting with and washing Chastity.

Eventually, when her companions quieted down, the warm spring water and the paradise around them were too peaceful and powerful to ignore and she floated silently in the water, marveling to be there.

“The birds… don’t come into the house,” Penny observed, when there was silence behind her, watching an eagle soar above the valley in front of them. 

“No, they don’t,” Channah agreed happily.  “Not birds, not insects, not rodents.  Only humans and demons—beings with souls—come into the house.”

“Do demons have souls?”  Penny asked curiously, looking over her shoulder at Channah, and then reddened at Channah’s surprised expression.  “I’m sorry Domina, I wasn’t thinking—”

Looking both amused and slightly challenged, she answered:  “I… think so.  Don’t we?”  And then, embarrassed in her own turn when she saw their surprised expressions, asked pointedly:  “How confident are you about humans?

The girls laughed before realizing she was serious as well as challenging them in turn.  Looking at one another, Penny answered slowly:  “I… think so, too.” 

Meanwhile, Chastity opined:  “Most of us for sure.  I can’t speak to all of us.”  Then Chastity looked at Penny in shock.  “You think so?!  You aren’t sure?!

Now it was Penny’s turn to look embarrassed.  “Probably,” she allowed, turning her gaze back upon the eagle.  “I think… I feel… I see, I experience… I must have a soul, mustn’t I?”

“If that huge heavy burden you carry around everywhere with you isn’t a soul,” Channah suggested, “You might want to figure out what it is.  Or even better, simply let go of it.”  And then, with an evil laugh:  “And maybe let it go even if it is.”

“NO!”  Penny protested, shocked, whirling around and then seeing her lazily gazing back, amused.

Rolling her eyes, she said:  “Are you ready to get back in your cage now, St. Augustine?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny admitted meekly, moving back towards her Mistress in response to her lazily beckoning fingers. 

Only after they were both locked back up did she lead them out of the bath and tease them by making them dry her off and dress her, sighing with pleasure as she felt their need for her returning and could tell they were feeling the tightness of her bejeweled grip below. 

Just as they turned toward the house, Channah paused with a surprised expression.  “Hang on… I think we have guests!”

Striding to the door barring the entrance to the honeycomb, she pointed to the ground behind her and snapped her fingers, not bothering to wait for them to kneel before she approached the door and opened it, revealing Miriam and Rivqah, dressed to the nines in tight sheer white linen kalasiris that only emphasized, rather than concealed, their voluptuous forms; high-heeled gold mules; and exquisite gold jewelry that was as striking as a whole, as the individual pieces were subtle individually.  They encircled or were draped over or dangled from every part of their bodies, from the tiaras on the crowns of their heads, to the rings around their toes.  They were both hanging on the arms of a huge mountain of a man, fully a foot taller than most men, with broad shoulders, heavy musculature covered with softer subcutaneous fat, and a wide fat belly.  But who was most notable for the charismatic force of personality that radiated out from him like a shockwave.  Complementing the two succubae, he was wearing only a tight sheer white linen shendyt, gold sandals, and his own complement of gold jewelry.  All three of them wore clothing the girls associated so narrowly with ancient Egypt that it seemed incongruous on a man whose features and skin were so obviously East Asian, and his air of danger and reckless self-assurance so clearly those of some barbarian kha-khan. 

To the girls’ shock, Channah positively squealed with delight, rushing forward and crying out joyfully:  “Húanglóng my love!” before embracing the man, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around him and allowing him to whirl in a circle while she clung to him as if she were a cotton doll. 

“My beloved Channah!” he roared back, before kissing her on the lips, while Miriam and Rivqah watched and applauded, sparing only brief smirks of withering contempt for the two red-faced humiliated girls kneeling nude and caged on the ground behind their Queen.  Clearly not all of her husbands were broken and chastised.  Certainly not her first and primary husband, a demon as powerful and distinguished as Húanglóng, King of the Dragons.

When they were finally done, Húanglóng set Channah back on her feet and she asked excitedly:  “However did Miriam and Rivqah pry you away from your Palace of Indolence?  It’s been…”

“Years,” he shrugged casually.  “Possibly decades.  I’m not sure.  But in truth, I see little reason to stir from my own paradise.  No reason, in fact—besides you, of course, my dear.  I’ve hardly even noticed much difference being banished to hell.  Human vice and weakness still bring legions of the vermin to us seeking dragons, gold, and glory….  and we dragons like the dry heat.  And since we, literally, breathe brimstone, we don’t even notice the smell.  Lilith and Cain, it’s been… centuries since I’ve smelled the air of Earth,” he marveled, looking at the beauty around him and drawing in deep breaths of fresh air.  “Maybe I ought to be a little less of a homebody… but finding the right body for a man such as me?  One even fractionally worthy of my presence?  Fortunately, your extraordinary and devoted handmaids found me this body, which even has a…” he shrugged, “somewhat adequate approximation of a cock, to wear to the mortal world.  A rare find indeed!  Miriam and Rivqah, my dears, you have outdone yourselves,” he beamed at them.

“Honestly, happening upon the fellow in Central Asia is what persuaded us to crash your honeymoon!”  Miriam admitted.

“It seemed almost like a sign,” Rivqah interjected.  “Especially knowing how much progress you want to make with your girls!  It occurred to us you could use your husband’s… unique powers.”

Channah considered for a moment and conceded:  “You have a point.  I have every confidence in my little ceshi.  But I’m sure my poor dears don’t stand a chance against the mighty mighty Húanglóng—either in competing for my attention, or resisting him.”  Penny and Chas exchanged a nervous, worried look, but didn’t dare interrupt.

“And I admit, when they told me you had locked yourself away for a week with only a pair of eunuchs for company, well, I… I don’t know,” Húanglóng admitted, looking embarrassed.  “I did feel rather like I’d let the side down with you.  I mean… next you’ll be joining a nunnery!”  The demons collapsed in laughter at the idea, but Channah looked worried and anxious enough, the girls could immediately sense how little she liked the image her honeymoon apparently being painted of her by the wags of hell.  “I had to come and jolly you out of your funk before the other demons started gossiping that your rebellion had already failed!”

“Nonsense!” Channah stamped her foot with outrage at the idea, trying not to show how shaken she was by the suggestion, with thoughtfulness outliving the outrage and lingering behind.  “But you’re right, it is too dangerous to risk making them even start to believe a pair of lowly jawari matter a whit to me.  Let alone speculating why.”

“Of course, it’s nonsense!” Húanglóng agreed, waving his hands dismissively, “but locked up in hell, in their own miserable little realms—nothing like my beautiful pleasure palace—all the rest of them can do is gossip jealously!”

“Well, it’s ridiculous.  I’ve been returning to exploring of my own, remembering my masculine side for the first time in… years, certainly,” she conceded, before acknowledging again:  “But anything that attracts notice to my affairs… especially my wives… is unwanted.”  Frowning, she continued:  “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

“Certainly, my dear!”  And they had another long, languorous kiss before separating, Húanglóng almost stepping back onto Chastity by accident.  Looking down, he frowned.  “Are these your little cucks?  I’ll look forward to seeing what you’ve trained them to do!”

“Oh, it’s early days yet,” Channah admitted, looking slightly embarrassed for some reason.  “That was one of the reasons I planned the honeymoon, to catch them up on their training before I put them to work!  Without imagining I might be with you!  Rivqah and Miriam, my sisters, what a perfect gift this is for me.”  Then, her voice becoming harsh, she barked over her shoulder:  “Girls, fall on your bellies and suck the toes of your Master and Brother-Husband.”  They looked up at her with shock, and then immediately fear to see the intense insistence in her voice and eyes, before blushing, forcing themselves to the ground, and pushing their tongues under his toes to lift them enough to suck.  Above them, they could hear Miriam and Rivqah sniggering and clapping with delight as Channah hissed:  “That’s the way.  You know he’s your better in every way that would matter to a male, don’t you?”

“A little slow for my taste,” Húanglóng opined judgmentally at the girls.  “I can see why you don’t think they’re ready yet.  But I expect we can help you discipline and train them better while we’re here, if you don’t want to keep all the fun to yourself.”

“So…” Channah smiled mischievously.  “Did you have a plan for your visit?  Or are we simply winging it?”

“Planned?!  Oh, have we ever!”  Miriam burst.  “But you have no need to worry about it.   Why don’t the two of you celebrate your reunion and let us take care of everything else?”

“Awww….” Channah gazed at them fondly.  “You two are my heart,” she exclaimed, hugging them both tightly before stripping off her robe and kicking off her shoes, an action Húanglóng immediately copied.  “Do you remember where the bedroom is?” she asked her husband.

“It doesn’t matter… I want to follow and watch your sinuous and spellbinding walk, my goddess,” Húanglóng confessed.  “Please, lead my way so I can follow!”  And giggling, she sprinted for the house, with Húanglóng eagerly—and her wives’ eyes despairingly—following her wide buttocks and long legs propelling her towards their marital bed.

The girls’ view was interrupted before the happy couple disappeared around the corner of the garden path by Rivqah’s high-heeled sandals, as she stepped forward and then bent down, smirking into their eyes as they sheepishly looked up to meet hers.  “You two must really feel like emasculated sissies now, mustn’t you?” 

And when they didn’t speak, her brows knitted together and her face darkened until the two girls nodded frantically.  “Yes, Domina.”

“Yes, Domina, what?!

“Yes—yes, we feel like emasculated sissies, Domina.”

“Too slow again, but better!  How much she must be coddling you!  I’m so relieved we intervened before you two completely unlearned all your manners and skills.  Why do you suppose you feel that way?” She then asked, raising an eyebrow expectantly while they exchanged a worried look, uncertain of their lines, before Penny figured it out and whispered, turning scarlet:

“Because we are emasculated sissies, Domina.”

“Quite!” she announced triumphantly.  “Pathetic!  Now gather up your Masters’ clothing and follow us to the house!”

The girls had been aware there were other figures in the honeycomb behind the three demons, but had neither the time nor the permission to pay them much attention before.  Now they—seven people, loaded with boxes and crates and equipment—emerged to follow Miriam and Rivqah without so much as a glance behind them, all their senses focused on not tripping in their haste to keep up with Rivqah and Miriam.  Four of them were male, three of them female.  Three of them were very pale—too pale to be human—and four of them were of human pallor and appearance, although the girls had learned not to make too many assumptions about what they might expect or find.  Two of those with a human appearance—Penny was sure—looked familiar. 

The girls scrambled to their feet to obey Rivqah’s command.

In fact, when they set down their burdens, the girls could confirm two of the recruits brought here by Channah’s Ladies’ Maids were known to them.  The first was none other than their qahramanah, Esmeray, who appeared to be about as discombobulated and anxious about being here instead of training her other jawari as the girls were to have her.  The other was, even more surprisingly, Big George, the carpenter of Fensmere. If anything, George was even more surprised to see them than they were to see him.  “You—you’re beautiful women now!” he managed, staring waay to long and not quite as delighted as Roger, Cutter, and Martin had been.  “What’s going on?”

“Channah has helped them realize their innermost desires, and become the things they have always yearned to be,” Miriam explained.

“Hallelujah!”  George proclaimed, immediately and automatically followed by Penny’s and Chas’s responses.

Taken aback, Esmeray asked:  “What was that?!” 

They looked embarrassed, but George answered:  “I don’t know, it just seemed to fit.  It sounded like she was praying or—”

“Like a benediction,” Penny offered, when George couldn’t find the right word.

“Yeah, like that.” 

The couple they did not recognize had swarthy skin and dark hair, perhaps Turkish like Esmeray, or Persian, or Arab.  The woman, distinguished from her colleagues by the fact she was not staggering under her burdens, carried only a long narrow bag in one hand and an elaborately inlaid lacquered case in the other.  She carried both of them protectively, it being obvious they were prized possessions she would not have wanted anyone else to carry for her, and seemed interested in everything around her as if she were having the experience of a lifetime.  The last was an intense, slim but well-muscled young man, who somehow managed to look amused, bemused, eager, and resentful as hell, all at the same time.  Both of them were dressed much as Húanglóng, Rivqah, and Miriam had been, the young man’s sheer loincloth leaving no doubt as to why he had been invited to this particular party, or that he would be a popular guest.

The other three were gwailou, pale demons:  a beautiful woman, a beautiful young man, and a fussy old man, all of them, as the girls would learn, Japanese; and all of them appearing…. ‘Pale’ wasn’t really the right word.  But it fit insofar as it made sense to everyone who set eyes on one, and there was certainly no better way the girls could think to describe them.  ‘Washed-out’ would have been too harsh.  ‘Insubstantial’ would have been inaccurate.  And ‘white’ would have been outright misleading.  Yet there was something about them that gave them the hint of death or absence, and not being quite full-dimensioned creatures of the mortal world.  All of them seemed resentful of the pitiful girls they had first found kneeling caged, nearly-naked, and largely ignored on the ground; a mystery that was slowly solved as it emerged they had been brought here to do the tedious domestic chores Channah had planned for her girls, so the girls could be impressed to serve Miriam’s and Rivqah’s wicked, and presumably less boring, purposes instead.

The woman, who they would learn was actually a succubus named Tiferet, followed the happy couple up the stairs, still carrying her bag and case.

Miriam instructed the humans and gwailou while Rivqah disappeared into the supply room.  After they had put the kitchen supplies in the kitchen, and the other supplies in the storeroom, Miriam commanded:  “Asuka, clean the house!  And stay away from the succubae.  None of us want to be bothered with servants today.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the old man bowed, something unpleasant and resistant shimmering across his face but almost immediately suppressed, before he half-slunk out of sight, half-winked out of their awareness.

“Sakura, tend to the garden and also stay away from the guests—make it perfect!” 

“Yes, Mistress,” the beautiful young man bowed, his jaw set, disappearing with much the same strange combination of normal movement and magic as Asuka.

“Esmeray, the girls are already in their leathers but we want them leashed, with their wrists bound in front of them and their legs hobbled, before you bring them up.  But first, you girls, help and obey Haruka prepare drinks and food for us.  Unquestioningly and immediately.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the beautiful pale woman and her crew of helpers curtsied before their Domina, having nowhere to go from the kitchen they were already standing in.

“When Haruka has given you everything to bring up to us and tells you you’re done in the kitchen, Esmeray, lead your jawari up to us and kneel with them, watching and learning in respectful silence until and unless you’re called on.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Domina!”  The three of them responded.

“Excellent!” 

“And, needless to say, Haruka, nobody wants to see you, either,” Rivqah added as she breezed back into the kitchen, carrying the two lacquered boxes from among Fang’s wedding presents to Channah and smirking significantly at the girls.  George, sounding confused, asked:  “What would you like me to do, Mistresses?”

The two succubae exchanged an excited glance and broke out laughing as they took his huge hands in theirs.  “You’re coming with Jacob and us to join the adults!  We’ve heard some rumors about you that we’re most eager to confirm!”  And they began leading him up the stairs, followed by the other young man, it taking a minute for George to work out what they were talking about and start grinning.  Behind them, Esmeray looked relieved to have been left behind; while Penny and Chastity looked crushed.

Until Haruka, already crabby with the two girls for what was—from her point of view—their privileged status, walked between them, grabbing and holding their ears in unecessarily tight pinches that made them whine, and led them to the stove.

Literature Section “07-34 An Intervention to Rescue Channah from Accepting Sexual Mediocrity”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 34 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—3764 words—Accompanying Images:  2168-2175—Published 2025-08-25—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

CAUTION:  Contains themes of sin and self-destructiveness some readers may find disturbing (even the abridged version).

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, prostatestimulation, cleanup, orgasm, and consensualnonconsent, themes at 07-33X The Kiss of Shame at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning in Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  An otherwise pleasant, fascinating, and companionable dinner ends with a sharp reminder of her wives’ status as her abject slaves—and heats up as Channah persuades Penny she was made and born to be the adoring slave of an evil bitch princess like her.  NOW:

Penance’s surrender to Channah’s will, as always, followed her surrender to her own passions, which Channah commanded and orchestrated with the skill of a grand maestro.  Soon, kneeling between Channah’s legs, on the floor before her seat, Penny, vulnerable and naked but for her bonds and slave tack, hugged her tightly with her face buried in Channah’s belly and crotch, kissing her through her dress and professing, over and over, her hopeless exaltation of and affection for a demoness Queen of Hell; while Chastity, Penny’s companion, similarly vulnerable, knelt behind Penny hugging Channah’s legs and Penny’s shoulders.

Recognizing opportunity when she saw it, and desire when she felt it, Channah gasped involuntarily, deliberately inflaming both girls’ already-alcohol-lubricated passions with her touch before daring the momentary interruption required to withdraw her hands, lift Penny’s shoulders slightly off her, and stagger to her feet, growling:  “Come!  Follow me, pup!” while grabbing Penny’s hair and pulling her mercilessly, forcing her to scramble in her hands and knees to keep up, with Chastity trailing like a lost pup behind her.  Obediently crawling behind Her, on hands and knees over the hard stone floor, unable or unwilling to ask for or demand any better treatment, instead accepting the hard yanking of her hand gripping Penny’s long hair and setting an unreasonable, biped pace for her meek, servile, crawling slave, made Penny blush with the reality of how pathetic and abject a thing she had become for her pushy, demanding Master.  She felt her cheeks burn with the shame of allowing herself to be degraded, and indeed participating in her own degradation, for her Domina’s glorification or simple convenience.  And behind her, semi-neglected, trailing behind because she had nowhere else to go and just hoped for any stray attention she could get from either one of the deeply-entangled people her heart ached for, afterthought Chastity felt like the lowest and loneliest loser in the world. 

Channah walked to a wide, comfortable lounge chair piled with pillows against a wall facing the garden, throwing a wide pillow practically large enough to be a mattress to the ground in front of the divan and dragging Penny to kneel on top of it before her as she plumped down with a pleased sigh onto the lounge proper, continuing to hold Penny’s hair in one hand, head tipped up to look straight at her, feeding her girl’s desire and whipping it to a frenzy through the connection between them.  With her other hand, she swept the panels of her dress to the sides, snorting at Penny’s surprise and obvious arousal at suddenly facing her bare, warm body.  “Both of you look,” she commanded, using her other hand to spread herself.  “Look!  Don’t be slow and make me interrupt us with a lengthy lesson.  Penance, you know you are ignorant of all things female; even of your own new body.  But I’m sure you want to learn, everything you can, don’t you honey?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny nodded earnestly, her eyes wide, miserably embarrassed at being called out on her inexperience, which she worried her two companions looked down on her for.  As if they didn’t already have enough reason to despise her for her weakness and softness.  But around her Domina, especially so close to her magnificent, warm body, the physical manifestation of she who Penny adored so much, she couldn’t even think straight.  Like a planet shaken to pieces or a star shredded by a more-powerful, larger-gravity body in space, the tidal force of her was greater than Penny’s own sense of self, so overwhelming her in proximity, Channah destroyed Penny’s own ability to know herself, eclipsing her very identity with her greatness and splendor.  Penny understood, as never before, that someone as ephemeral and insubstantial as herself could not even exist in such proximity to a greater existence; let alone shine or be seen in the light-shadow of her radiant, overwhelming magnificence.  How, Penny marveled, could nothing resist everything when it negated and absorbed and outshone Penny’s very existence?  Manifestly, it seemed to Penny, it could not; why would it even try?  She felt almost that she shouldn’t exist, something as paltry and ghostly as she was; a mere shadow of her Domina.  How dare she insult her goddess by even thinking of herself as something separate or unique?  At the same time, as her very identity was occulted, her passions and awareness narrowed and sharpened, taking her first clear, fully-awed, considered look in full light at her Domina’s—or any woman’s—sex.  Even as her conscious mind, such as it still was, tried to comprehend the holy shrine she had been given to gaze upon, what it was, what it meant, her animal brain and instincts raced into it at the speed of a galloping horse, shuddering and literally even salivating at the very sight of it whether she understood anything about it or not.  She was barely even aware of how electrified she was by the faintest, faintest whiff of her aroused Domina’s orchid, and the moisture gathering like dew at the root of her.  Penny’s eyes and lips fell slack and passive with a sense of connection and importance that overwhelmed them and rendered them as passive and accepting as Channah rendered Penny’s very soul.

Behind Penny, the sad nearly-forgotten shadow of her two companions, came Chastity.  If Penny was pulled in too closely and tightly, Chastity was ignored; a distant planet, beyond even the orbit of Jupiter, not even visible to two sets of eyes locked upon one another.  A lonely planet or asteroid with so little significance, it tumbled invisibly and undetectably in the unimaginable depth of space, wishing if only it could be embraced and torn apart by the tidal force of love!  If Penny was shredded and annihilated by her union with Channah, Chastity felt the incomparable pain of irrelevance, so far removed from her own center of gravity she was neglected and might as well not even exist.  But staring, helplessly and desperately, at the same Sun as Penny, each of them powerless and disempowered by their sun goddess in their own way.

The Sun was speaking, and her captive bodies hung helplessly on her very words:  “So I know you will attend carefully and remember every word.  Chastity—you are not such a stranger to women, but even so, people—especially young people like you’ve probably lain with before the succubae—are stupid and ignorant and dishonest, and sometimes they’re different from one another.  So listen to me well because I will hold you accountable for knowing the truth, and what works for me—not whatever little bits of wisdom you may imagine you may have gleaned from your previous partners.”

“Yes, Domina,” Chastity agreed, swallowing nervously and understanding her message.

“Everything down here, every part of my body, like yours, is sensual and erogenous; and worthy of your reverence, just as every woman’s body is worthy of every male’s reverence.  A woman decides what her body is.  And I insist my body is sacred to all males.  Sacred and profane, pure and filthy, consecrated and desecrated, all at once, perfect and balanced, all things I want it to be.  For you, it will be heavenly and hellish but always sacred.  You will never disrespect it or dishonor it.  It will be a heavenly focus of your deepest dreams and desires and male spirit, as it is for all who desire women.  Hellish enough it is for men, who I allow and indeed seduce to try and claim it, so I may damn them.  Yet it will be even more hellish for you girls because with both of you, always, it will be for my pleasure only, with my most-special place:  off-limits to every kind of pleasure you might desire to take from it, ever.”  Licking her lips with pleasure at their pained expressions, absorbing and knowing the painful truth of her words, she continued to taunt them:  “You will never ever enjoy this the way I routinely command, seduce, and even beg for men to enjoy it.”  Both girls groaned desperately and sadly, practically flinching from the force of the truth.  Her Truth, now theirs as well, their hopeless miserable devotion pleasing her more.  “And for the two of you, it is more special still:  sacred, because it belongs to your Domina, and your Domina is worthy of her title:  a dominant, demanding bitch.”  She shook Penny’s hair, a little roughly, jutting her jaw out, challenging her to object.  “Just the way you like it, submissive little bitch.  You see—” she indicated with her middle finger.  “Pay attention!  Here, at the bottom, this is the most unholy place where men go.  To please me you will be expected to attend to every part of my body allowed to you with reverence and adoration; but you—your bodies—are and always will be denied access to this most sacrosanct space.  This is for men.  The most sensitive spot inside me, as Chastity may imagine she knows, is on the top of my passage, a little bit in.  Every woman and succubus is unique, so you must always pay attention to your assigned Mistresses and Masters and learn them, exactly and intuitively, the way a musician learns her instrument.  For succubae, because we are thrice blessed,” she smiled coquettishly, “the sensitive area stretches…” another smirk “much further.  Neither of you will ever touch or see any part of it; and even if I allowed you to try, you wouldn’t be able to reach it with your little things.”  Seeing their agonized but helplessly wanton expressions, she shuddered and groaned with satisfaction.  “You miserable little losers.  But you need to remember where things are in case I command you to fetch me a toy that can please me in the way you never could—” she snickered.  “When you find the sensitive place, you will know, from my reactions.  When you care for it and attend to it properly, you will definitely know.  So remember to always be attentive to my reactions and commands, verbal or otherwise.”

“Yes, Domina,” they responded automatically, emotionless in response to her humbling words, but eyes never departing her demonstration, both of them breathing heavier when she moaned suggestively.

“You always have to start gently, outside on the skin, and then move in slowly towards the more sensitive places, unless I jump on you or tell you otherwise.  Only once I—or your qahramanah, or anyone else you are required to service—is well-prepared and excited, should you consider using a toy here.

“This place—” she moved her finger slightly up “just above it, in the middle, Is my urethra.  Sometimes girls like you have trouble finding it.  But for you two girls specifically, who are to stay away from my most precious flesh, this is the closest you will ever get to it.  Sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly contemptuous toward my submissives and your weaknesses, I may use this on you.  Or when an actual man is being rough with me, I may have to call you to clean me up as a side-effect of his attentions.  At all other times, it is off-limits to you because it is too close.  You may only touch it when I call you to attend to it.”

“Finally, here—” she raised her finger a bit more, to the top.  “Is my tulip.  Do you know what makes it so special?”  And when neither girl had an answer, she continued:  “It is the only organ of the human—or demonic—body devoted exclusively to physical pleasure.  Your little parts—such as they are—play important roles in practical bodily functions, but my clitoris has only one job, and exists for only one reason:  to give me pleasure.  In these respects, it is like a sister to the two of you chastened girls.  My pleasure should and must be your only imperative, your entire world.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Domina,” they nodded, Penny swallowing and starting to pinken a bit; while Chastity looked like all she wanted to do was to start practicing.

“It will be the center of your attentions when I allow you the privilege of worshiping me.  You should eventually—not at first, but eventually—make this your sole and total focus.  Again, you will know by my reactions when you are worshiping the right place, and when you are worshiping it with the skill and reverence that it deserves.  Do you see?”  And when Penny started to nod, before either of them could say anything, she growled:  “Then kiss me properly, slave,” using her grip on Penny’s hair to pull her in tight.

Her other hand was now free; and she raised it toward Chastity’s face.  Sniggering at the girl’s nearly-crosseyed expression, Channah put the same fingerbetween Chastity’s lips.  “Can you taste me, villain?”

“ymph,” she answered, nodding reverently.

“Stand up and hand me the oil from the table.  Good girl.  Now spread your legs apart… mmmm…. And shuffle forward.  Come on!  Closer.  Don’t be shy, work your way forward, right over your girlfriend, until your knees are pressed between her rib cage and my knees.  Penny!” she barked, trying to contain her laughter.  “Don’t you dare stop!  No matter what you may feel or hear happening up here.  Do you understand, girl?” 

“Yms dmmn” she nodded vigorously, her voice muffled and garbled. 

“What did I tell you?  Or have you forgotten already?  When you are servicing me that gorgeous tulip becomes the epicenter of your world!  The meaning of—for—your life!  Now show me what a good and serious student you are while we play up here.  Don’t tell me you think there’s some better use to which we could put your tongue or your time?  Is that what you’re suggesting?!  That I’m wrong?!”

“Nmn dmnh!” came an urgent yelp, as Channah reached down and swatted each of Penny’s bruised cheeks playfully, but sharply

“You’d better not!”  she huffed bossily, just before twitching and grunting with a gasp.  “Better!  Keep at it!”

And then, with a devilish look up at Chastity, she reached forward and expertly removed her most-restrictive item of tack, enjoying Chastity’s amazed and delighted gasp, and the sudden look of excitement in her eyes.  Without breaking their eye contact, Channah—using her legs to squeeze Penny in place—played with Chastity with one hand, -0and poured oil all over her, careless of the oil dripping down onto Penny’.  “Three guesses where this is going, lover.”

“Penny?” Chastity answered hoarsely.

“Oh no don’t you dare move or even pause!” Channah barked down at Penny, laughingly, raising her legs and folding them over Penny’s back, driving her high heels into the girl’s flesh like spurs to a horse, even as she shifted her hips forward a bit under Penny, ooching to the very edge of the lounge and getting more comfortable.  Returning her attention to Chastity, she answered as if surprised:  “Well of course!”  Channah laughed sharply.  “We both know what a protesting little prude Penny likes to pose as, but have you ever seen her react like one?”

“Well… no,” Chastity laughed, half-nervously, half-excitedly.

“Of course not.  She’s a girl!  Just like she’s always wanted to be!  Now I can’t reach anymore—” she handed Chastity the bottle.  “Slather this everywhere.  Be generous!  Oh!  That’s good, Penny!”  She waved her hand at Chastity, nestling back on the pillows piled behind her so she was half-sitting, half reclining, and relaxed, pulling open her dress and touching her body as she stared into Chastity’s eyes.  “Mmmm…. This all feels sooo good,” she purred, arching her back just a bit.  “Well go on!  I want to see the show!  Wait—hand me that cup of pineapple!”  And when she had it, she picked up a slice with two delicately-curved fingers and pushed it sensually into her mouth:  “Mm!  Good!  Showtime!”

The moment Chas’s hand touched Penny, the younger girl bucked in surprise and Channah laughingly bullied her again:  “Don’t pretend you’re a virgin, girlie!  Or that you don’t enjoy this!  We’ve both seen the proof otherwise!  And besides, you should be too busy thinking about your duty to me for you to be worrying about what’s going on behind you!  Show me—show us—you want this by spreading your knees out wide like a good little bitch.  Go on!  I’m going to be veeerryy disappointed if—yes!” she interrupted herself, clapping with delight, to see Penny’s knees move and sharing a conspiratorial glance with Chas as she raised the bottle of oil high in the air and tipped it to drop a thin stream of oil to spatter below. 

Under them both, concealed from them by Channah’s skirts, Penny felt her cheeks burn with humiliation as she spread her legs for her best friend at the command of her master:  not from a proper manly rage at the suggestion, or outrage at being forced to do something against her will, but from the utter embarrassment and shame of voluntarily—willingly—surrendering her own power and autonomy and dignity to her Mistress by spreading herself in this way.  And the absolute certainty that Channah’s sex was so sweetly overwhelming, her skin so soft and fragrant, her personality so forceful, and Penny’s feelings of desperation and adoration so powerful, that Penny would willingly—eagerly—do much more than this for her.  That Penny could not imagine, in this second, anything she would refuse to do for her Domina.  And in that moment, Penny, to her shame, knew and understood what it meant to be a lowly, hopeless, irredeemable slave, defined and limited by the status assigned and allowed to her by her Unholy Master.

“Good girl,” Channah praised Penny with the tone and excess cheer one used in addressing a pet, making circles with her fingertips and purring.  “Such a good girl… and your mouth!… oh, Penny, I think you’ve got a talent for this….  Chas, silly girl, take your time!  I want to see your hand massaging that oil into Penny’s soft skin and spreading it  “Mmmm!  Yeah, just like that, slow and sensual… it will make Penny hotter, too!  Oh!  Penny, baby, I’m so hot… a little harder and slower]—ungh!  Chas, honey, slip your fingers in Penny first, running them like tongues around the inside!  Help spread her for you like a flower begging a wasp to make it give up its nectar!  Yes!  Just like that, Pleaser… oh, baby, that’s the way to earn—and own—your nickname….  Now, stay focused on me, keep your mind and your body calm and relaxed, a meditative and worshipful state, that’s what I want for you right now!  Meditative and worshipful and passive and open and perhaps most importantly of all, accepting!  It’s not enough to not-resist us, slave!  You need to invite and welcome and actively admit us!  Join in our domination with your own submission to prove your loyalty and devotion with every breath!  Be as active and enthusiastic in your submission as we are in our domination!  This is what I expect and in fact, demand for you!”

“Meanwhile, allow Chastity to focus on you and do whatever she wants—and I want her to do—with your body.  It’s Chastity’s job to pleasure you both; but it’s your job to pleasure me, all the way, with all your heart and soul!  Your job is so important, but so simple, I’m going to leave you to it and trust you, baby, trust you to keep your mind and your heart on me, no matter what your sisterwife and me are doing to your sweet, soft little body.  You’re hardly going to feel her back there after the last two days so don’t even pretend to be distracted from your duties!  Can I trust you, Pleaser?  Can I trust you to love me right?  To make me your top and only priority and ignore all those naughty, dirty little feelings Chastity and I are giving you down deep in your belly?”

“Yexshnm dmnuh!” Penny managed to sob without any appreciable interruption in the performance of her duties.

“Actually, fuck!  Fuck!  That’s—ah!—not enough!  Penny, that’s not all I want from you!  I want all of you, every bit of you—your body and your soul!  While I treat you like a rented mule.  I need—I demand!—your complete and total surrender, Pleaser, in return for my utter contempt.  Give it to me, your total and complete devotion—your damned worship!—while I use you up for my pleasure like the evil bitch I am!  Can you do that?  Will you do that, for me?!”  And whispered, cruelly and most passionately of all:  “Isn’t that—amn’t I—what you want?  Everything you’ve ever wanted?”

Penny wanted to shake her head at the sheer preposterousness of Channah’s words!  The absurdity!  They were mad!  She was mad to imagine—to think—Penny couldn’t even believe the effrontery of this—this wicked demoness—to even give word to what her fevered, diseased, cursed mind imagined.  What she asked….  It wasn’t right.  Penny knew this!  Anyone even hearing what she said would know it.  And it was so stupid!  Because—because—

Penny was already kneeling between her legs, under her legs, as eagerly as a stray dog who felt she had finally found a home, free to do so precisely because she had forgotten herself!  Allowed—no, to be honest, striven to let herself—forget who she was and who she expected herself to be—what God had once hoped for her.

Tears stung her eyes at the cheek!  It was… Penny realized, as she breathed in and through the powerful, intoxicating smell of Channah’s hot, sweaty body, her tired tongue sore from all her worship and devotions, her own tiny, inadequate bound thoughtlessly in steel, aching and crushed by Channah’s casual mechanical cruelty while both Penny’s partners expected to—were—taking and using her body for themselves, for their own pleasure and satisfaction, at Channah’s command, while Penny was given nothing except insults and orders…

Penance wanted to scream.  Had she not even changed who she was, altered her very body, shaped her very identity, to match and please this temptress?!  It was, in a word, unnecessary to ask her this!  To ask her to give it a name, to describe it—to hold up the unfairness and the atrocity and the scandalous, scandalous disgrace and wrongness of it to the light for everyone—especially the smug and privileged taker Channah—more especially the stupid, weak, needy, desperate girl who couldn’t even remember who she used to be or what her name had been before, because it felt so distant when she was here where she belonged and needed to be—to see and have to face it!

It was… so unnecessarily and deliberately cruel!

That was the outrage of it!  The evil genius of it… Making her weigh, and hate, and consciously, verbally, in the presence of others in the last but lingering light of day, choose the outrageousness and unfairness of her demand!  Who—who would be so vile as to ask?  And—she knew.  She knew, the even bigger and more-obvious question as:  who would be so wretched as to give—such a thing?

Penny paused her worship just long enough to bellow and roar like a gored ox, in a terrible, wounded, outrageous-realization-of-dying kind of way, as she felt the pain of Channah’s rapacious needle push through her soul, tearing it to pieces and turning it into some trophy like a pelt.  And felt simultaneously, the release of it:  the soaring freedom, the peace of surrendering to her better, admitting, most of all to herself, that Channah was her better; and crucially, that she was nothing, that of course she wanted to let go of everything she had been and thought she could have been or should have been, because who wanted any of that?  And knowing… knowing the awful truth of it that a proper man, or even a proper woman would never have to face:

She.

Was.

Damned.

By.

Love:

Her own fierce and passionate heart, torching and overwhelming her own weakness and desire.

It was just a fact.

She knew it.

Channah obviously knew it, a thought that still hurt, to imagine what contempt she must feel when she looked at or thought of Penny.

And so what, if Channah was making her own it?  Using her own grubby hellish fingers to stuff her vile shit into Penny’s mouth, filling it and overwhelming her, every one of her senses rebelling and collapsing in Penny’s utter failure of will and self, knowing, God help her—no, nothing could help her, least of all herself:  Knowing, worst of all, she wanted to choke down the demonic filth of what Channah was feeding her and only. forcing her to take to make her confront the truth of them both, and how and why they went together so perfectly. 

She felt Channah gasp, the two of them so connected her better top half understood, immediately and completely, the significance of Penny briefly dropping her mouth further, before returning to the place she had been commanded, dissolving back into tears again, her natural and wretched state before—no, beneath—this—this fucking cunt—that made her tongue feel all the sweeter and more tender to her demoness-goddess’s electrified flesh:  “Yes, Domina!  You fucking cunt!  You evil fucking bitch!”  She screeched.  She wailed.  She screamed and wept:  “I do!  I will!  I give myself over to you utterly!  I SURRENDER!  Use me, please use me, I beg of you never stop using me, Domina!”

And the second she said it, Channah was gushing and roaring, her eyes rolling up in her head and the whole world dimming around her as she reeled with a delirium near losing consciousness, and delivering her own merciless, devastating answer that would have been disjointed rambling to anyone other than her own heart and lower half that in matters of the two of them, knew her as well as she knew herself:   “Oh!  You’re—you know you’re—the fucking bitch, girl—boy—you piece of shit!  Yes!  MINE!   Body, mind, and soul!  Iiiieeee!  The things I’m going to make you accept—you—you—you fucking know it, don’t you, you perverted little cunt?  You’re the cunt, you fucking little shit-eater!  Now, Chastity darling!  Seize your heart’s desire!  Take what you want!  Ah haa haa haa…..” her cries faded into sensual, almost stereotyped moans as her mind and body floated further and further apart, without losing the vitality of their complete connection, ecstatic in the knowledge of the completeness with which she had destroyed, absorbed, possessed, and owned the pretty, pliant, pathetic thing down between her legs. 

And made her victim acknowledge and in fact proclaim it!

There was simply nothing left in the world, not in this moment, not for the two of them, not in that tiny point of space where she and Penance had merged and collapsed from two separate beings into a single dynamic.

Channah hung there, at her plateau, for an impossibly long time.  At some point, around the same time her girls reached their own climaxes, Chastity wailing, Penny just sobbing and shaking her own head in disbelief, Channah drifted back to herself long enough to realize she was crying.  Her cries of passion had morphed into tears of joy and freedom and letting go of everything because none of it mattered.  Nothing else mattered for now.

With a cry of a satisfaction and completeness she may never have quite experienced before, she finally kicked the pillows off the divan and rolled onto her side.  “Get up here!” she barked.  “I demand it!  The—your—Osculum Infame, cunt!” Delighting to hear the shocked sound Penny was able to make even as low as she was, to accept and embrace that, so far from the devoted little good girl she had once been, how far she had fallen in just a matter of days under Channah’s relentless, rapacious influence.  “Damn yourself with your own degradation.  I want my true bitch, my little demon-slut, the one who knows how thoroughly she has given herself to the Queen of Hell, to give me her Kiss of Shame!” 

And she was not surprised—her girls were not surprised, least of all Penny—to find that it was Penny who instantly, almost without a thought, almost desperately, scrambled up on her divan behind her—below her—to yield and throw herself into it, knowing she was the one, and that this was her unholy office.  

For no reason other than to give it even more force by spelling it out, for Penny’s abandon was already complete, she growled:  “That’s it, you utterly-damned loser.  Pull apart my buttocks, sink your face between them into the cleft of my ass, and worship my unholiest of roses!  NOW!   And you!  My afterthought—afterbirth—of a sisterwife, get behind my dirt-eater and use your own tongue to lubricate her the same way she is soothing me, so you can sodomize her again, double-damning both of you while she seals her pact and status!   And bitch-Penny, don’t you dare stop licking and kissing until I’m snoring and your little friend has spent herself again!”

Feeling Penny’s abject, villainous tongue, pushing against and slighty into her, as much as the girl could manage with her inadequate human tongue, Channah shuddered with another, entirely emotional orgasm.  “That’s right.  That’s right.  No—that’s wrong.  You’re wrong.  As bent and twisted as a White Mulberry tree—a fucking corkscrew!  You’re—we’re—so – bloody – wrong!   You filthy, vile, dire, nasty little boys.  Don’t you dare wash yourselves until I give you permission.  I want you to sleep and think and feel and in Penny’s case, literally breathe me, breathe the stink of your own filth, and mine, all night!”  Stretching her legs out and curling them behind her on the long divan where Penny lay, she enjoyed feeling Penny’s soft warm skin and breath pressing up against her backside and the backs of her legs, with the counterpoint of cool, hard steel pressing into the soles of Channah’s feet like some obscene tease or promise. 

Sighing with what she realized must be happiness, the demoness jiggled her foot, a thoughtless, nervy twitch to her, but pure torture to her victim, against Penny’s cage, rattling it and shivering it over the tightly-constrained flesh within it, imagining how tightly Chastity’s face must be pressed up against Penny’s backside in turn, feeling Penny stiffen and hearing her gasp as she briefly felt the same devotion she was giving to her Mistress.

“Is your little cage sticky and wet, slave?” she whispered, smiling, her smile widening at Penny’s murmured, delirious, ashamed response:

“Yes, Domina.  Goddess.  Bitch-Goddess!”

“I thought so,” she smirked with contemptuous satisfaction, melting into the feeling and the thought, her words slowing and becoming disjointed as she began to sink into her sensual, rapacious, revivifying kind of sleep.  “After I’m well and truly asleep, deep and still, miles from here ranging the world, Penny can lie behind me, back-to-back with her head against my ass; and each girl can kiss the mess between the other’s legs before you fall asleep.  I want you both good and crammed between my back and the cushions against the wall, without polluting a single inch of me with your obscenity.”  And she fell, gently and slowly as a babe in a swaddling blanket, into dreamland with the soft, wet, pleasant lapping of Penny’s tongue on her dirty rosebud, and the slight sensation of Penny’s face being pushed and pulled against her by Chastity’s own desperation.

Literature Section “07-33[X] The Kiss of Shame”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 33 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 5305 words::Explicit 5617 words—Accompanying Images:  2155-2167—Published 2025-08-17—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

Additional image containing cannibalistic themes at 07-32X Spicy Hot Dangerous Eating in Mesoamerica at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After a round of rough angry sex leaving her girls feeling compliant and adoring, and sending the girls to do chores while she worked, her girls have prepared dinner.  NOW:

Channah took her girls, Chastity and Penance, by their hands and led them to the dining room.  “Oh, that’s lovely!” she beamed, leading them to her seat at the head of the table, facing the garden, and then pausing expectantly.  The girls dropped her hands and pulled her chair back from the table for her, then once she had sat, pushed her back in. 

Penny laid her napkin in her nap, apologizing:  “I’m sorry, Domina, we hope you are pleased with the food.  We didn’t—we aren’t even sure what most of this is!” while Chastity poured her wine, looking surprised and concerned when she caught the smell from the bottle. 

Channah laughed:  “It’s not really ‘wine,’ is it?” she teased.  “Because they don’t have grapes here—yet—it’s made from cacti!”  Then she waved a hand dismissively.  “That’s right, you don’t even know what those are.  A plant that needs so little water it can grow in the desert!  This is the most-exotic drink I’ve ever tasted, anywhere in the world, blended with chocolate, honey, and chili pepper.  Hmm…” she mused happily.  “Thank you, girls, you’re caring for me so well.  Part of me would love to have you remain as my servants while I eat, and part of me would like you both to kneel under the table where you belong, but the truth is, I want to see your pretty faces and enjoy your pleasant company this evening.  And picnic food is perfect for that.  So please,” she captured a hand from each of them and squeezed it, “For tonight, sit on either side of me here.”

“Thank you, Domina,” Chastity answered, followed by Penny, as they sat. 

“And the food looks wonderful!  There are plenty of European ingredients for you girls to cook with later in the week, but to welcome you to this new world, I asked cook to prepare a feast of Aztec food.  Things most Europeans still haven’t even heard of.  It looks like the meats are… turkey and duck—maybe some iguana?  The vegetables are squash, and the soup and bread are maize—corn—a very tasty grain of the new world.  And all of it flavored with chili peppers.  If I were you girls, I’d make sure to have a glass of water handy before eating anything!”  While the girls scrambled to set out three more glasses and to fill them weith water, Channah picked up the ‘wine’ bottle from the table and poured both girls wine, giggling as she filled their cups nearly to the brim.  “I know both of you—but especially Penny—are shy about spirits and I don’t want you two falling behind.  Because this is going to knock you out!”  Raising her glass, she asked:  “What shall we toast to?”

“To you, of course, Domina!”  Penny blurted immediately.  “Our beloved Mistress!”

“To our Domina!”  Chas echoed.

“Oh, thank you, my loves,” she did her best—which was not very convincing—to blush modestly as she sipped from her glass, but looked honestly pleased and touched.  “Fortunately, in Hell, sovereigns may toast themselves without fear of hubris, so we can drink to me together!  You girls had better drink deep to honor your Domina!”

And they did, Channah giggling as Chas bolted her entire glass in one go—regretting it immediately and entertaining her companions with her gasping, choking, turning red, sweating, and the way her very eyes seemed to bulge out of her head as if pushed from behind by steam from the heat generated in Chas’s throat by the drink.  “Thank you, Chas, for your demonstration of such enthusiasm and commitment!”  Channah complimented her, even as she refilled her glass.  “And don’t you dare tell Penny I ever said this, but—” she faked a whisper “—maybe you should drink the next glass a little more slowly.  Follow my example, and you can never go wrong.”  Looking askance at Penny, who was frowning with concentration and licking her lips, processing what she had tasted and about to set her glass down after a single sip, before realizing both of her companions were watching her expectantly.  “Now Penny dear,” Channah growled.  “If you aren’t choking at all, it can only be because you weren’t bold enough!”  Looking like a trapped fox, Penny drank several swallows in succession, waiting in vain after each successive sip for Channah to stop staring her down, until Penny finally began choking and sputtering, blushing as they teased her for her lack of adventurousness.

“Now, do your best to keep up, Penny, or I’ll put you on your back under my foot with my toes in your mouth and start pouring wine down my leg to watch you sputter like Chas,” she threatened, teasing until she caught Penny’s involuntary pant, dilated pupils, and pink cheeks, and roared at her embarrassed arousal.  “You filthy girl, you would like that, wouldn’t you?  Fortunately, there’s plenty of time for that later!  I want—I demand!—intelligent dinner conversation!  Penny, you’re a smart girl.  Start us off!  And no sex talk!  You must drink every time you ask a question and twice every time Chas or I ask one!”

“Tell us what you know of the Aztecs!” Penny gushed.

“Oh, you’re curious about the Indians of the Americas, are you?  Drink!” she commanded, pausing until Penny did, although she looked more thoughtful than attentive, before beginning, her eyes narrowing watchfully, staying focused on Penny’s:  “Years ago, one of my vassals, a useful but irritatingly sentimental fantasist, brought me a number of unpublished manuscripts from a secret Venetian library.”

“Venice!”  Penny reacted.

“Yes, that’s where we found you, wasn’t it?” she teased, pretending surprise.  “Who would have expected to find such a useful little English girl—” she paused, thought, and shrugged deciding the word fit well enough— “there, of all places?  It was written by a Florentine bureaucrat on the secrets of wielding political power.  Most astute.  The Aztecs could have benefitted from access to it.  I suspect Cortes did.  Did you know, this vast land of millions,” here she gestured vaguely towards her garden, and the great valley beyond, “probably larger than all of Spain itself, was conquered by a few thousand Spanish adventurers—hardly even a proper army—with a motley assortment of modern weapons?  Their weapons helped.”  She shrugged.  “And the pox helped them even more.”

“The pox?” Penny asked, looking shocked.

“Oh, yes.  I’m not surprised the stories coming back to Europe omit that; not nearly as dramatic as warfare and politics.  You know of the Black Death, from the time of Edward III?”  Both her girls shuddered immediately.  “Something very like that is going on here, all around us, right now.”  And even as she saw the fear leap to their eyes, she raised her hands placatingly.  “Don’t worry—you’re not at risk.” 

“How can that–?” Penny began.

“Because you’re—the Europeans—the source of the infection.  Just as the Black Death was brought from Asia to Europe, the Spaniards and Portuguese have brought the pox—and measles, influenza, mumps, typhus, and whooping cough, everything you grew up surrounded by—to the New World.  In some ways, it was—and still largely remains—a paradise, lightly-touched by human hands.  Make no mistake, it has dangers of its own.  Not up here, in this heaven on Earth—the air is fresh, and free of miasmas, which is why Cortes built his capital here—safe as houses, one of the reasons my own palace is here.  But there is danger in the hot, wet jungles and swamps along the coasts.  So much so, the Spaniards have begun importing African slaves and forcing them to work in the lowlands.  Because their own countrymen consider the New World so dangerous, only the most-desperate, most-ambitious, and most-rapacious will come here.”

“But even their plagues were not Cortes’s greatest weapons in conquering the Aztecs.  They were—and are—the American Indians themselves,” she confided, gratified by the girls’ surprised expressions.  “Yes.  This was—and much of it still is—a land of city-states.”

“Like ancient Greece?” Penny asked in surprise.

“Quite!  For almost a hundred years, it has been dominated by the Aztec Triple Alliance—more correctly called the Tenochca Empire—led by the city-states of Tenochtitlan, Tetzcoco, and Tlacopan.  Although they controlled more land than anyone else—by far—they never completely eliminated their rival city-states.  Perhaps they simply couldn’t manage it, but at least partly, it was because they understood war differently from Europeans.  Europeans fight wars to become wealthier, or more powerful, or for vengeance.  The Aztec and their neighbors fought for all those reasons, but another reason besides:  The Aztecs’ adoption of Huītzilōpōchtli, a terrible god of war, the Sun, and sacrifice, as their patron deity.  About a hundred years ago, following a great famine, Huītzilōpōchtli revealed to their priests that the famine was a punishment because the Aztecs had failed him; and that to redeem themselves, he required the Aztecs to appease him with human sacrifices.”

“So it’s true…” Penny murmured.

“From that time, their Empire thrived on the backs of human sacrifices.  Sometimes dozens, sometimes even hundreds, a day are slaughtered.  At the consecration of a new temple, it may even be thousands, killed in their temples, at the tops of their pyramids.  The exact manner of the sacrifice depends on the god to which the sacrifice is made, and the purpose of that sacrifice.”  Breathing faster, her pupils dilating, Channah continued:  “For Huitzilopochtli, for instance, the god of sun and sacrifice, the sacrifice is ritually dressed and decorated, then dragged to the top of the pyramid where their hearts, still beating, will be ripped from their chest and placed in a cuauhxicalli, or “eagle gourd bowl.”  The priest will then toss the heartless body down the stairs on either side of the pyramid like so many scraps discarded from a dinner table.  Sometimes, to accommodate the number of sacrifices required, four sets of priests will work at once, on each side of the pyramids, sacrificing and throwing bodies down the four flights of stairs as quickly as possible.  At the bottom, the bodies land on a platform called an apetlatl, where they might be cremated.  But more often, they are returned to the warriors who took the sacrifice captive in the first place, who can either strengthen himself by eating the sacrifice’s flesh, or chop up the body and share it with others to increase his social standing.  They would save the skulls for display on huge skull-rack displays called tzompantlis.”  She emphasized her point by tossing a half-eaten turkey leg onto the floor as she chewed, licked her lips, and smiled wolfishly, noticing how shocked her girls looked.  “My little sweethearts.  You can’t even imagine the carnage, can you?  The priests and the audience become so excited by it, they stab and cut and bleed themselves to add their own, smaller sacrifices to the gods.”  Her voice sounded reverent, before she shuddered and came back to herself, snorting.  “A few of them fuck.  But the Aztec focus is much more on the literal kind of self-abuse.  As limp as my own little girls.”

Noticing Penny glancing, bothered, at the turkey leg on her well-maintained floor, she snickered:  “That’s right, Penny dear.  It doesn’t belong there, does it?  Why don’t you be a good girl and go fetch it?”  And when Penny looked at her uncertainly, she barked:  “Fetch!”  Laughing as she scrambled out of her chair, she added:  “On your knees.  And bring it to me in your mouth.  No hands, except for crawling.”  She watched, her breath coming faster, as Penny hesitantly dropped to her hands and knees, crawling to the bone and—with difficulty—getting a solid grip on it with her mouth.  Channah pretended not to notice her fastidious girl wiping the floor with a moist napkin before crawling back toward Channah, who was pointing at the ground immediately beside her right foot.  Penny sat back on her haunches, looking up at Channah with an endearing, desperate-to-please expression that made Channah wet.  Staring back at her with blazing eyes, Channah held her eyes for several seconds before taking the bone back and whispering loudly:  “You’re going to drink from under my foot tonight.  But not yet.”  She clapped, breaking the spell and gesturing to Penny’s place.  “Back in your seat for now.”

“In real wars, like Europeans, the Mexica—that is, the Aztecs—gathered every poor and powerless sod they could lay hands on, drafted them into service, and threw them at their enemies after bombarding one another with missiles, while the rich and powerful stood in the rear shouting orders.  But in the flower wars, only the best and brightest, dressed as Eagle Warriors and Jaguar Warriors, led the fighting from the front, using their melee weapons to display their individual prowess, meeting their enemies at prearranged times and places in roughly equal numbers like sports teams, and bringing plenty of peasants along as bait for one another to capture and sacrifice.  Their enemies could either oblige the Aztecs’ thirst for sacrifice by participating in—and on balance, losing—these flower wars, like European jousts only even more dangerous, against the cream of Mesoamerican soldiery, or face full-on attacks by the more-powerful Aztecs to take away their citizens en masse.  After a century of feeding their sons and daughters to the bloodthirsty Aztec priests to buy their survival as a group, you can imagine how much they hated the Aztecs.  And when the Spaniards arrived, with just enough force and novelty to unify the Aztecs’ opponents and tip the balance of power, they fought with a vengeance, providing Cortes with the vast majority of his army.”

The rest of their meal passed in much the same vein, learning about Aztec clothing, customs, politics, tribes, history, architecture, food—Penny’s questions were inexhaustible, and Channah’s knowledge of her human prey, deep and vast.  Penny was spellbound, gazing at her guru with something like growing awe; and even Chas remained interested enough to learn about this world, in such detail.  In England, no more than a few sentences’ worth of information about this new world—which the Spanish considered an important state secret—were even known; and even that was hidden and confused by the much larger volume of often-conflicting rumors rendering all of the stories that reached England, unreliable.

Toward the end of dinner, Chas asked about Aztec sports and games—a subject Penny had left out.  After describing Ullamaliztli—the great ballgame played between teams of warriors, often in front of large crowds—and the individual throwing game of Totoloque, she told them about Patolli:  “It’s a board game, named after the small red beans used as playing pieces. The players roll dice numbered zero to five, or throw five beans with marks on one side, to determine whether and how far their pieces can move on a board with four arms and 52 squares.  Bets aren’t simply made on the game; they’re a fundamental part of the game.  And the stakes can be high, like Aztec punishments.  Each player has to offer six treasures, acceptable to the other player, as bets for the game.”

“What kind of treasures?”  Chas asked, fascinated.

Anything.  Money, valuable stones or metals, practical things like blankets or clothing items, even services or total slavery to the other.  If you roll a zero, you have to make an offering to Macuilxochitl, the god of games, who the Aztec believe plays in every game with the human players.  The offerings to Macuilxochitl go to the winners of each round.  Each round lasts until a player has moved all six of her pieces onto, around, and back off the board; and the game ends when either player loses everything.”  And with a daring glint in her eye, she hissed for emphasis:  “Everything.”

“That sounds fun!”  Chas clapped her hands.  “I want to play!”

“I’d love that,” Channah responded flirtatiously, winking at Chas and flustering her momentarily.

“Well, I don’t!”  Penny protested, sounding as anxious as she looked.

“Oh, come on, Penny—please?  I haven’t played any party games in forever!”  Chas whined.

Channah rolled her eyes.  “Come now, Chas, you know as well as I do that Penny is a dreadful spoilsport.”

Penny looked wounded.  “I—I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be, it’s just that—I mean—‘losing everything’… that sounds really bad!  And it’s gambling!  St. Augustine says the Devil invented gambling!”

“Please!” Channah huffed.  “That just goes to show how little the church understands devils.  Those pedantic, bureaucratic, bean-counting apparatchiks wouldn’t even gamble with other people’s money.”

Penny looked deflated.  “I’m sorry, Domina, I’m not sure he—or I—used the term properly.  He meant—”

Their Mistress rolled her eyes.  “I knew what he meant, honey.  I’m just busting your balls—metaphorically for the moment—for being such a dull and selfish girl.”

“Please, Penny, would you just do it for me?”  Chas begged, immediately making Penny feel torn.

“Think about it this way, little Miss Literal:  I bought you from your aunt when you were what… nine years old?  Literally speaking, you’re my ‘total slave’ already, and you have been for almost half your life.  I could order you to do anything, or order you to give me everything you have, any time I’d like.  Wouldn’t you rather have some fun with your Domina and sisterwife, and maybe even get a chance to boss me around—”

“Holy cow, I hadn’t even dared to imagine that!” Chas squeaked in surprise, causing Channah to shake her head slightly in amusement before she continued:

“than be little miss gloomy-pants and sit out the game while Chas and I have fun?  What do you think you’re going to do while we’re playing?”

“You’re going to order me to do more chores,” Penny deduced despondently.  “I thought—”

“You know what?  Actually,” Channah raised her finger to stop her.  “I wouldn’t,” she announced, sounding surprised at herself.  “You know, I really don’t think I would.  This is our honeymoon.  The three of us are supposed to be bonding, and that’s what we’re going to do, even if you’d rather go pout by yourself.”

“I obviously don’t want to pout!” Penny protested, so exasperated she made every effort not to laugh.  And then added hastily:  “Domina!  Mistress, couldn’t we do something else?”

“Like what?” Chas asked skeptically.

“Our Liege Lady knows so much—I thought we were having a fascinating conversation!”

“Oh.  My.  Gosh!”  Chas howled, clearly pouting.  “I’ve been listening to you do that for hours!  Can’t we do something I want to do for awhile?”

“There must be something else you’d enjoy—”

“What?”

“Something, I don’t know… safer?

“We’re married!”  Channah objected.  “You’re my wife!  What are you saying, that you don’t feel safe—” Channah began, then made the mistake of meeting Penny’s narrowed eyes and paused, struggling her very hardest to maintain a neutral expression, before throwing up her hands and dissolving into laughter.  Penny couldn’t help herself from laughing, either, but in her case, when the laughter forced itself to the surface, it dragged her hurt and anger into view with it and she laughed with poor grace.

“Penny!” Channah and Chas simultaneously managed to express their genuine shock at the fierce, raw intensity of the feelings on Penny’s face. 

“It’s all right, I’ll play!”  Penny was hyperventilating and averting her eyes from her companions, uncomfortable with allowing her own feelings out and trying desperately to cut off any discussion of them.

“Penny.”  Channah said, quietly, reaching out and taking her girl’s hand.  And when Penny instinctively tried to pull back her hand, Channah tightened her grip, managing to combine her usual commanding tone with an undertone of pleading:  “Penny, stop!” 

Penny jerked, almost pulling away again before she could still herself.  “I’ll play, Domina,” Penny whispered, still looking away.

“Penny, look at me,” Channah instructed her softly, gently, waiting patiently until Penny could force her face up, revealing how distraught she was, eyes boiling with passion and tears.  “I love you.”

“I know,” Penny blurted, all she could get out.

Softening her expression from concern to compassion and speculation, Channah added:  “And you love me.”

“I do,” Penny managed.  “I—I do!” And then she fell to her knees between Channah’s, sobbing, allowing Channah to guide her forward until she had crawled between Channah’s legs, and then to pull her head tightly into Channah’s lap and her embrace.  “I—I do love you, completely, with every bit of my heart,” Penny confessed.  “But—but—you—you’re such an evil fucking bitch!”  Penny half-screamed, half-wept into Channah’s skirts, her shoulders heaving.  “You treat me so badly.  Why do I love you so much?  I don’t understand.” 

“Because I love you back, sweetie,” she murmured.  “And I love that you can’t help loving me no matter how much you try to hate me.  Oh Lilith and Cain, that’s the very very best!  And because you need someone wicked to love.  Someone like me, who truly hungers for your love and adoration.  Oh, baby, I can’t get enough of it, especially because you can’t help yourself.  I’ve told you your conflicted, tainted love is the sweetest ambrosia there is, to me.  And you need to love an evil fucking bitch, Penny, my darling.  You do!  You need it.  I promise you—no matter what you want to pretend, no content little adoring hausfrau will ever do for you, darling.  Only an evil fucking bitch will ever do for you, pudding.  A wicked goddess like me.”  Cradling Penny’s head in one hand, and rocking Penny back and forth between her knees, Channah used her free hand to pull Chas into their embrace, understanding with perfect clarity how badly and how much her other wife needed to be part of this, feeling her, too, start to cry.  Channah held them both against her.  She was so overcome—the back of her brain only keeping her calm by reminding her, or promising her, this was the Yoke’s doing, not hers, and that the Yoke was necessary to her plans—that she found herself crying and murmuring sweet nothings with them.

“I didn’t break you, Penny.  I just broke you to me.  You were shattered already—don’t you see?  Long before we met.  That sweet, fragile, gentle web of cracks down your soul, so slight it was almost invisible, except as a slight opaqueness.  Not even you could have seen it back then if you’d had anyone to help you look for it.  But you can see it now, can’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Domina!”  Penny howled, like a wounded animal, bawling into her lap, held warm and safe between her legs and under her protective arm and her friend.  “But it doesn’t make any sense—”

“It does.  I promise you, it always does.  But you don’t need to understand it, because I showed it to you,” she whispered.  “You’re so beautiful and broken… both of you, in your own ways… you have to know… I have to show you the poignant beauty of you.  Lover!”

“Do you really love me?”  Penny asked, her fear and disbelief plain in her voice.  “Really?  It’s not just some trick?” 

“Yes, of course!” Chas bawled, answering the question whether it was directed to her or not, falling on top of Penny and hugging her around her waist as Channah, surprised, held her breath to let him finish.  “I’ve loved you as long as I can remember!”

“And I love you!”  Channah promised in turn, meaning it.  “Sometimes—sometimes I think I’m crazy.  Sometimes I think it’s the Yoke.  Well, it has to be the Yoke, to feel this much!  But it’s real.  I know what I am, and I know what I need.  I know I’m a total fucking cunt—”

“No!  No, I’m sor—” Penny began.

“Hush your Domina is speaking!”  Channah reminded her, laughing wryly.  “And believe me, I’m not apologizing, sugar bear.  Far from it.  But I’m not stupid.  I know what I am.  Who else could possibly ever love that?  And normally I don’t need love.  It doesn’t even cross my mind.  Or, I didn’t—or, I don’t know.  But when I first came across humans—men—so wrecked, so totally destroyed, but still surviving, somehow still going and capable of shattered, fragmented, irrevocably damaged love, so submissive and undemanding and accepting it tastes just like worship—Lilith and Cain it filled up a part of me I didn’t even realize was empty—hadn’t even recognized existed!   It’s what a goddess needs, children!  Like water!  I know, it risks becoming a distraction—a weakness—it’s not what I am!  I don’t think men were supposed to be so fragile and yet so resilient that something so demolished could continue to walk and breathe and love a goddess, not really.  They’re meant to love women—an equal relationship with their own kind.  Not in the yielding, sacrificing, unconditional-surrender way a goddess needs and deserves to be loved.  Of course no healthy being, no whole soul, no real man, could love this.  Ravana, even fucking Húanglóng …. I would torture them all to death if I could, and they me.  But do you imagine I don’t know a mirror when I’m looking in it?  Fuuuuuuuuuuckkkk!”  She cried intensely to the ceiling before folding her body down and around them both.  “But I love being me, I love it–this—adoration—whatever it is, and I love you—you bothsooo much for completing me!”

“I love you I love you I love you so much I do love you…” she heard Penny suddenly whispering, pleading, professing, and at the same time expressing amazement, or even apologizing—whether to herself, or to her conscience, or to God, or even to Channah, only heaven above could say for sure.  Penny’s voice was muffled, clasped between Channah’s legs as she was, her face cradled to Channah’s lap; and there were so many things going on at once it took Channah a moment to notice Penny was not just nuzzling her legs and lap, but kissing her down there, as assiduously and repeatedly and with as much abandon as she was professing her love.  They were simple kisses, sweet and romantic kisses, but of course they made Channah want something more.

Literature Section “07-32 Spicy Hot Dangerous Eating in Mesoamerica”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 32 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4406 words—Accompanying Images:  2146-2153, 2154X—Published 2025-08-11—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah angrily and rigorously punished, tested, and bedded her girls before being appeased and sending the girls to do chores while she worked.  The girls have just finished their chores, bathed, and are ready to let her know that dinner is ready.  NOW:

Chastity and Penance remained naked except for the marks and tack Channah had imposed upon them.  For marks, both girls’ hindquarters were fading from bright red towards a fierce brownish-purple; and Chastity’s torso, upper arms, and upper legs, especially, were heavily scratched, abraded, and sensitized, covered with faint but vivid red marks.  For tack, both girls wore their Chakra Reins—collars, piercings, cages, twisters, and triggers—inside and outside their bodies; wrist cuffs; ankle cuffs; and the hobbling chains that limited their strides significantly and their hands even more.

In the hall outside her command room, the girls fell to their knees and crawled forward to two of the four supplicant positions shown on the floor.  Each supplicant position was marked with five tiles.  Four obrounds were positioned along the sides of an imaginary diamond shape on the floor—two smaller obrounds approximating the width and length of lower arms from elbows to wrists; and two larger obrounds approximating the width and length of lower legs from knees to ankles—with a round stone positioned between the two arm stones along the centerline of the imaginary diamond.  The obrounds were spaced widely enough to force a tall man to stretch uncomfortably to cover them.  Smaller gurls like Chastity and Penny could not possibly reach them, but forced their knees and elbows apart, and their hips and shoulders and foreheads down, as far as they could manage, hoping their efforts would be sufficient to avoid punishment.  They looked like frazzled frogs who had been pinned down and pushed to the ground by giant boots.  But in fact they were exhausted, shaken slavegurls who had each been accused of defiance, badgered, shouted at, corrected, spanked, terrified, and stomped on by their angry Mistress, until she had reduced them to the quivering puddles of submissive flesh they resembled now; and who had been harangued and kicked the first time they reported to her here, to teach them how she wanted them to enter in the future, while their Domina’s more-important visitors laughed at them.

They waited, disregarded supplicants, quietly and unobtrusively, where and as they had been trained, on the cool hard floor, for the attentions of their Domina, while she met with people who were much more important and higher-ranked than them:  her vassals the succubae and incubi, her officers and officials in Hell, her qahramanat, and her mamalik.  Here, in her office, or command room, Domina and her wives were outside the bubble of their marriage, where their Domina had made it clear she expected her inferior morganatic wives to behave appropriately for their station, that of sub-humble jawari.  Needless to say, none of her visitors were jawari; because she would have no truck with the likes of them outside of their assignments and services.  They certainly had no role in administering her Court or her Empire!

Because they entered on hands and knees with their heads bowed subserviently, the tiles on the floor near them were all they could see until she summoned them forward and gave them permission to rise.  But from their earlier entries, they knew that like most of her home, the throne room was open to the outside, made with the same colorful carved stone as the rest of it, facing a formal pool in the central part of her garden, although the furniture and working parts of the room were set well back from the edge of the roof to protect them from wind-driven rains. 

Channah herself sat comfortably on her throne, an ornate gold affair decorated with the same strange figures and motifs, in the same strange style, as the stones of her house and the gold of her bed and her smaller, simpler bedroom throne.  This one, a formal throne of state, sat on a dais rising two feet above the surrounding floor, was flanked with side-tables, was wide as a love seat (allowing her to sit up or lounge to the side as she preferred while conducting her business) and rose in the back to an impressive height—a true throne of command, suitable for the conduct of official business from her mountain retreat.  She was regally clad, in keeping with her throne, in formal robes of state to conduct her business:  a high-necked floor-length scarlet brocade gown embroidered with golden serpents and medlar fruits, a pair of tall shiny black boots, and a tall, viciously spiked crown of gold decorated with rubies.  And she would either be holding, or nestled beside, her onyx scepter, a heavy hexagonal rod topped with a human skull.

All of her visitors appeared before her throne, inside a large and complex magic circle mosaic.  The dominant shapes were an outer circle perhaps four yards in diameter, circumscribing a pentagon, circumscribing an inner circle closer to three yards in diameter, circumscribing a pentagram.  The circles, pentagon, and pentagram were made of a hard, shiny white grout forming ridges rising an inch or two above the tiles, contrasting with the level greenish-gray grout used everywhere else within the house.  And each of the 21 oversized tiles within the larger circle were inscribed in silver.  The centermost stone, the focal point of the pentagram, was the most elaborate by far:  marked with a serpent wrapped around and riddling through a rotten medlar in the shape of a broken heart.  Each of the other tiles was inlaid with an astrological symbol, or a more-arcane symbol of some kind Penny could not identify. 

Everything about the circle set the girls’ hair on end and their spines tingling.  Despite the care and artful grace with which it had been designed, its evil pattern was irreducibly sinister and jarring.  And it generated a palpable energy field the girls could feel when they knelt in their supplicant positions, even though those were several feet outside the circle.  There was something magnetic or electric, something warping, that came off the circle in malevolent waves.

The Queen’s visitors came from nowhere and disappeared to nowhere.  They were incorporeal—ghosts, the girls had thought in terror at first, until Penny, staring down at the floor below her in wide-eyed terror, had recognized Kadidia’s voice during her previous visit and deduced that they were not spirits.  Or at least, not standalone spirits; but perhaps, spirits of her vassals summoned to her in the circle for her to address, before being released by her and allowed to return to themselves.

Finishing with one vassal, a succubus by the conversation, she dismissed them as the girls had heard her do other visitors earlier in the day, with a double clap of her hands and the command:  “atrudha!” (Arabic for “Dismiss her!”).

This time, however, unlike the previous occasions on which they had awaited her pleasure, when she had summoned them forward to order them to perform new chores, this time she continued to ignore them.  Instead, to the girls’ mortification, she clapped her hands once and called:  “min kambiridj-‘arni rujar!” (“from Cambridge—show me Roger!”); “min Sademtsaowah-‘arni ‘iismiri!” (“from Sademtsaowah—show me Esmeray!”); “min tshanghan-‘arni Kai!” (“from Chang’an—show me Kai!”).  Things went from bad to worse—from the girls’ perspective—when they recognized not only Roger’s and Esmeray’s voices, but those of Cutter and Martin as well.  The Queen’s entire conversation with the visitors was conducted in Arabic, which still seemed unusual to Chas and Penny, who still expected their bullies, their qahramanah, and Channah, to speak English by default.

“Your Majesty!” the five voices chorused, presumably while bowing and curtsying deeply. 

“My qahrahamanah.  My mamalik.  You may rise.  Attend to me!  Roger, have you found Frances?”  The girls, whose thoughts so far had primarily been hoping none of their English bullies would notice or recognize them, knew Frances well.  She was another English jawari, only 2 or 3 years older than Chas; and they were startled to hear that she was missing.  But they dared not raise their heads or react in any other way.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Roger answered.  “Mistress Rivqah scried her position and we deduced she was trying to reach her mother’s house.  We intercepted her there yesterday, before she could make contact with any of her family.”

“Where is she now?”

Roger, Cutter, and Martin guffawed nastily.  “You asked us to make an example of her, Your Majesty, so we dropped her in the servants’ cesspit.”

“I commend your enthusiasm, boys, but can we be sure she hasn’t drowned?  We do actually need her.”

“We tested the depth with a rod and there’s only three or four feet of muck down there.  We tied her to a rope just long enough to let her drop in chest-high.”  He snickered.  “Although we may have given her the impression, ah, she would be left to dehydrate and drown down there.” Cutter and Martin snorted derisively.

“As much as I like the idea of leaving her there a few more days, I think her time—and Eleanor’s—would be better spent training with Esmeray before the ritual.  And further punishment is always available in, you know, Hell,” Channah snickered.  “No risk of her avoiding what she deserves there.  So tomorrow, pull her out, make Eleanor help her clean off.  And I mean, clean, clean, clean, first in the creek and then when she can be allowed in the servants’ area, in a barrel of warm soapy water.  I won’t have her stinking up my bath at Fensmere, let alone my domain, with the filth of Earth!”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the boys agreed.

“I want you waiting with her and with Eleanor in the Satanikoklus at noon sharp.  I want both of them hogtied for transport.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“Kai, inform the duty Timorite at Chang’an that I want her to pick the jawari up from the Satanikoklus and deliver them through the Honeycomb to Esmeray at Sademtsaowah.  Esmeray, inform the duty Timorite at Sademtsaowah to expect the girls tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Esmeray responded.  “Will—if I may ask—Will Penny and Chas be returned to me before the next ritual so that we can try full rehearsals?  Or should I prepare for deeper training with just Eleanor and Frances?”

Something about her manner or gestures, or those of Channah, must have pointed out the girls kneeling on the floor within the visitors’ field of view, because Roger gasped and then burst out laughing.  “Wait—no.  That’s impossible.  Those cannot be our Penny and Chas!”

“They are indeed,” Channah laughed, as the girls’ bullies made sounds of incredulity and astonishment.  “Girls, get up on your knees and grab your new boobies for your boys!”

Scarlet and practically dying inside, but in no way willing to risk angering Channah, and mindful of her command to be enthusiastic little sluts for her, both girls rose up, sitting back on their haunches with their knees still spread.  Chastity, excited even as she was nervous, artfully emphasized her breasts, pushing them up while she grabbed them at the base.  Penny, self-consciously, put her hands modestly over her breasts.

“Princess!  I didn’t tell you to cover your tits modestly!”  Channah laughed even harder.  “I said ‘grab’!  As in, show off!  Put your hands under your breasts, cup them and squeeze them to make them stretch and swell and stick out further!  Go on, no place for reticence when you’re a whore!”

The ashamed girl did as she commanded, to a chorus of rude whoops and catcalls from their bullies and Kai.  Channah noticed with satisfaction that Esmeray was able to watch neutrally, only the way she shifted uncomfortably betraying her ambivalence about what she was witnessing.

“Now turn around, away from the boys, spread your knees, put your shoulders down on the ground, and jiggle those big round beautiful bottoms and hot pussies for your mamalik!”

Penny and Chas, whimpering and moaning with embarrassment and fear (and for Chas, just a little bit of defiant excitement) obeyed, setting off another round of even more enthusiastic responses.

“You’ve been training them hard, Your Majesty,” Cutter gushed.  “Their asses are so beautiful and bruised….”

“I have, and they are,” Channah agreed flirtatiously.

“And they’re obedient as hell,” Roger growled.  “Damn, I mean, Your Majesty, I don’t suppose your offer to fuck them is still open, now that they’re real girls?”

Penny couldn’t help herself:  she raised her head to see her Domina, who was looking sly and thoughtful.  Desperately she shook her head and whispered under her breath pleading with her Domina—more like, willing her Domina without the courage to ask her—to say no. 

Channah shook her finger slowly and sexily in a “no” signal to Penny and smiled evilly, looking Penny straight in the eye and seeing her swallow nervously, before she looked back up at her vistors and asked:  “Are you sure?  I thought you were too much of a ‘man’ to fuck my little girls.”

“Well—that’s when they were fake girls, Your Majesty.  I apologize—I meant no disrespect.  To you.  No disrespect to you.  Sissy boys in dresses.  But now… heaven above, they’re completely female.  In every respect!”

“Their minds are unchanged.  Their souls…”

Roger made a dismissive noise.  “I’m not planning to take their souls, Your Majesty.  Those are irrelevant.  I want to possess their new bodies.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Channah agreed snarkily, as her bullies laughed.  “What are you working on right now?”

“We’re learning, Your Majesty, as you commanded, as much as we can about how the manor operates, so we can help you manage it.  But we don’t actually have any duty assignments right now.”

“Continue learning until you leave, and don’t breathe a word of any of my plans.  When we return to Fensmere next week, Roger, I will make you my Castellan.  Cutter will be in charge of the mansion and its staff, and Martin the head of the field staff.  Don’t let those titles go to your heads, boys—I’m not picking you because any of you have a reputation for effective management or work habits or dutifulness even good sense.”  She laughed shortly and deliberately insultingly.  “Don’t interfere in the actual running of anything—leave that to the Butler, the Housemaid, and the other senior staff.  You’re to be in charge of…”  She rolled the last word around in her mouth, savoring it:  “Discipline.

“Oh, yes,” the three bullies laughed, sounding as if they were hugging and clapping one another on the shoulders in celebration. 

“You can use your positions to get revenge on everyone who mistreated you in the past, but only in the context of your duties.  Believe me—you’ll find more pleasure in their fear, awaiting your vindictiveness—than tearing up my household immediately.  And my household must run well.  A scared and miserable staff is fine—delightful, really—but the laundry must be cleaned properly, the house must be kept dusted and polished, the food must remain delicious and interesting, the servers polite—in short, the Sun itself must continue to shine out of my ass over that house, so that my life is as convenient and pleasant as possible, and my guests, from the lowliest deliveryman to the King himself, continue to be awed and amazed by the splendor of my mansion.  Do you understand?!”

“Yes, Domina,” they agreed, sounding more muted.

“The reason I want you in charge is for operational security, not the actual operation of the household itself.  I’m giving you the three highest positions in the house—after my Governess, Sindonie, who will remain in charge of the noble children, as you can imagine—so you can enforce discipline and security on the household, or at least, all of the commoners within it.  Without ever telling anyone there are new rules, or explaining them out loud, you will build and enforce a new regime at Fensmere.  A culture of obedience to me, and silence about my business.  I’m already aware there are the vaguest rumors circulating out in Cambridgeshire, and perhaps even further afield, about… changes people have noticed to the household.  Even questions about me.  Well, we’re going to stop that process when you return, so that my Sipahi ranging the countryside can continue to stoke the rumors of demons abroad in the countryside.  Your duties for capturing and disciplining escapees will expand from my slaves to include the entire staff and population of the manor and the village.  Once someone joins the manor or the village, they will remain there until they are buried, unless they receive my leave to depart.  Only trusted staff will be allowed off the premises at all; and then they will be sent in groups.  Staff and their families will not share any of the business of the manor, or the village, with visitors or tradesmen, beyond the minimum necessary to accomplish their business.  And, most importantly, when the King arrives, our staff will have no doubt about where their loyalties need to lie.  I will instruct my tailor in Sademtsaowah to help you dress appropriately for your work.”

Then, changing tone:  “Esmeray, as I’m sure you’ve gathered, training Eleanor—and especially Frances—will be different than training these sweet, compliant girls.”

“Yes, Domina.  Although I’m surprised… as more-experienced jawari, I thought they would be fully-broken.”

“Oh,” Channah waved her hand dismissively.  “In many ways, they are.  But they were always trained differently than my two girls.  Or, more precisely, my two girls were always trained differently than any of the other jawari.  In this generation, anyway.  That’s why I wanted you to meet and work and play with them first, so you would see them for who they are, not lump them in with the other rabble.”  She laughed sharply, and not entirely nicely.  “Boys—I need you to pay attention to me, not my little sluts’ bottoms.  Girls—” she bent forward, addressing them, “—Keep your knees on the floor but rest your arms on my dais, straight out in front of you like you’re holding on for dear life, and worship my boots with your tongues and lips!”

“Yes, Domina,” they hurried to obey, seeming to make Channah gasp with excitement at the sight of their distressed, worried, sorrowful faces… and to compel her to ram the toes, and occasionally the heels, of her boots harder into their vulnerable mouths while she continued her conversation with her visitors.

“Why don’t you boys come through to Sademtsaowah with your prisoners tomorrow, to provide security for Eleanor and Frances while Esmeray begins their training.  They’ll be kept in the kennels at night; but whenever they’re not locked in the kennels, you’re to monitor and contain them so they can’t get away from Eleanor.  Don’t help Eleanor train them unless she asks—it’s her job to be their qahramanah, not yours—but do be of assistance to her however she asks in handling or training her charges.  Kai, please find quarters for them near Esmeray.  And then…” she shrugged, visibly delighted that she was able to tease at least three boys and two girls with diametrically-opposed desires, with a single taunt.  She shrugged.  “Depending on how well-behaved my girls have been, and how helpful you’ve been…. we’ll see about introducing my three bully-boys more… intimately to my new girls.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” the three Englishmen laughed celebratorily, even as Penny and Chas, too stunned to even take it all in, buried their heads in their hands, making little sobbing-whining noises too primitive and instinctual to have a name.  “Oh!  And, ah…. One of you let Big George know I want him to come along with you.  My Castellan has a couple of projects requiring his expertise.  Is there anything else?” she asked, giving them a moment before continuing.  “Then carry on with your assignments.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Majesty!” they responded.

Channah clapped twice:  “aitrudhum!” (“Dismiss them!”) and the light in the room changed slightly.  Whether it was darker, or the quality of the light had changed when the sterile bluish ghosts had disappeared, leaving the warmer, yellower, indirect Sunlight from the garden alone to illuminate the room, neither girl could tell for certain from her perspective hanging at Channahs’s feet.  Leaning forward, knowing she had their full attention, Channah purred.  “You girls look so cute and sweet and submissive, sucking my boot tips and heels and looking up at me so sadly and pleadingly.  Ha!” she clapped and shook herself with delight.  “I think you both know you’re going to have to be very good—practically perfect—if you want to avoid the attentions of Roger and his bully-boys entirely, don’t you?  So better suck up your very hardest!  And at this moment, I mean that very literally!  Open your little pieholes wider, go on, wider, streeeettttcch those lips out and push your faces as far forward as you can on the tips of my boots.  Oh, come on… you especially, Penny, with your well-known big mouth!  I want to see you swallow half of that boot.  I want to hear you—yes!  Woo-hoo!”  She clapped with glee as Penny—looking like a fish with its mouth stretched by hooks—started to make gargling and gagging sounds as the toe of Channah’s boot started tickling the back of her throat.  “PUSH, BITCH, PUSH!”  Screaming as loudly as she could at Penny while leaning as close down towards her foot as she could, she fairly seethed with joy as Penny’s face turned red and her throat and mouth began involuntarily contracting in an instinctive attempt to clear her throat.

Resting her chin on her fists, Channah enjoyed watching the girls suffering and debasing themselves to please her for what seemed forever, before her smile grew even wider and slyer.  “This is the best honeymoon ever!” she barked.  “I’d ask you why you came to disturb your Domina’s important business, but I don’t want this moment—this pathetic display—to end!”  She giggled nastily.  Setting aside her crown and her scepter in a leisurely fashion, she continued:  “If you’re done with your chores, nod your heads with my boots in your mouths.  Ha ha!  Excellent!  If you’ve bathed yourselves, nod your heads.  Good!  And if you’ve served dinner in the dining room?  Veeeerrry good, darlings.  Oh!  I have a fun game!  Without removing my boots from your mouths—or biting my toes!—I want each girl to remove her boot.  You can use your hands to pull them off, but your mouth must stay wrapped around that boot, and that boot needs to remain deep inside your mouth in gag-a-bitch position, until you’ve removed it entirely, and I accept it from you.  Oh ho ho, that’s cute… look how hard you gurls are working on those boots.  You two look really ree-diculous!” she guffawed.  “Like a couple of Maltese puppies down there, wearing only your dog-collars.”  When they removed her boots nearly simultaneously, she laughed again:  “A tie!  Good doggies!  Such committed, devoted little puppies…” she purred, rubbing her knuckles under their chins before taking her boots and setting them aside. “Penny, your first chore tomorrow is to polish my boots.  I want them gleaming!” 

“Yes, Domina,” she answered, hanging her head in shame at how Channah was making fun of them.

“No time for your pouting,” she chided.  “Worship my feet.  While they’re still warm and layered with the smell of leather.  I’ve had a long, stressful day while you two have been cleaning without a care in the world.  Go on, use your mouths and your hands to relax me.”  She observed them, sighing and relaxing back in her throne as they kissed her heels, sucked her toes, rubbed the balls of her feet, and caressed her arches.  “Oh… that feels good.  You girls are naturals.  I may need to keep you two with me to de-stress me at the end of each day… mm….”

When she felt her breathing deepen and slow, she ordered them:  “That’s enough for now, sweeties.  Now put your arms back on the dais, stretched out toward me, armpits on the edge of the dais, that’s good.  And use your toes to brace your legs and knees right where they are.  I’m going to put pressure on your faces, and I don’t want you to fold or slide.”  Ignoring their confused expressions, she waited for them to move their arms and feet into the positions she had commanded.  Then she stepped on their faces with the soles of her feet, relaxing a moment, feeling their breath tickling the soft skin in her arches, while she untied her robe and slipped it from her shoulders.  Then, bracing her feet on their faces and her shoulders on the back of her throne, she raised her hips and slid her robe out from under her, settling back down and draping it gently in its accustomed resting place over the back of her throne.  Finally  she put her feet back down on the dais and slid her hips forward off her throne, dropping into a squat immediately above and in front of them, her beautiful bare legs emerging from the slits cut up to her hips on both sides of the simple tube dress.

“Stand up!  Go on!” And when they had, she rested her arms around their necks, with her hands on their shoulders, using them to steady her as she jumped off the dais to the floor.  Devastating Penny with a flirtatious look, she flicked her head back towards her dais and commanded:  “Get my heels for me, bitch.”  Taking advantage of her most-vulnerable moment, when she was stretched forward as far as she could reach to touch and pull on Channah’s mules, she slapped her ass.  And as she took the high-heeled sandals from her and set them on the ground, using their shoulders for support again, she slid into the sandals, kissing each girl quickly before leading them towards the dining room.

Literature Section “07-31 The Naked Debutantes”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 31 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4316 words—Accompanying Images:  2141-2145—Published 2025-08-03—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah angrily and rigorously punished and tested her girls, and Penance eventually assuaged her suspicions.  Both girls have been ridden hard, but neither has been put away yet.  Penance lies bound and helpless, naked, in the garden.  Chastity lies bound and helpless, wearing a painful hair shirt and locked in a metal prison cabinet.  NOW:

“I do feel good about this,” Channah mused, enjoying the morning sun fall on her as the sun finally rose high enough in the sky to top the mountains themselves.  Squiggling against Penny, she purred:  “You feel good.  Oh, I’d be happy to do this all day.  But because you girls have made such a mess of things, we’re—meaning you’re—going to have to take some time to clean up while I work a bit.  So we’d better go have breakfast.  That is, if you’re still hungry after all that loser juice and cock filth?”

“Yes, Domina, please let me have breakfast, Domina!” 

She shrugged, sitting up and swinging her legs off the stone.  “I want my girls to have all the energy they need, for all the chores and… other ‘duties’ I need them to perform.  So, I promise, you’ll get what you need.”  Looking down at Penny, she pouted.  “I really want to kiss you right now, but what have you done?  And after I cleaned your mouth out once already?  After you and Chastity finish your chores, I’ll let both of you messy girls bathe again.”

Releasing Penny’s hands and rebinding them before her, and leaving her legs hobbled, simply for the added pleasure of making her work while restrained, she directed Penny to carry the cushions back to the house before the afternoon rains, insulting and shaming her to keep her hustling and hurrying as best she could to keep up with her carefree master.  At the house, she showed Penny where the cushions belonged, and where she could find the cleaning supplies, so she could get working on Channah’s bedroom floor and the stairways and halls they had tracked through from the site of Penny’s big mess until they exited the house.

Leaving Penny to her cleaning, Channah returned to the storage room to open Chastity’s prison-box, finding her sweaty, smelly blonde girl shivering despite the warmth generated in her little space by her anxious, restless, tormented body.  Feeling the doors open and the cool air reach her, Chastity turned her blind head toward the opening and began making what Channah gleefully interpreted as extreme begging and pleading sounds.  The parts of her face that were visible behind her blindfold and gag stretched and twisted with her desperation and hope, which Channah rewarded by standing back and watching until Chastity gave up in despair, slumping back to the demoralized, unhappy position she had been in before the doors opened.  Bored with the end of the spectacle, Channah yanked hard on Chastity’s head and shoulder, rolling her out of the cabinet to lie face-down, butt-up, immediately outside it. 

Kicking her legs to stop her from straightening them, Channah draped a cloth over Chastity’s bottom, and by sitting daintily upon it with her legs straddling Chastity, grinding the sharp camel hairs all the more forcefully and abrasively everywhere her weight fell, biting her lip with pleasure to see and feel how Chastity’s hips involuntarily bucked and twitched to reduce their impact.  After leaning forward to remove her earplugs, Channah placed another cloth on Chastity’s shoulders and set her feet on it to avoid touching the sweaty, filthy hair shirt, some of which was Chastity’s, and some of which had accrued to it when it was used on previous victims, but had been revived and reactivated by Chastity’s heat and moisture.  Channah could lean forward whenever she wanted to put more pressure and weight on Chastity’s upper body and neck, then lean back whenever she wanted to put more pressure on Chastity’s knees and lower back, knowing that every shift and motion caused the camel hairs poking and scraping most of her body to shift and bite like miniature snakes. 

“Welcome back, bitch,” she snapped coldly.  “You’re still on my shit-list, but Penny has pleaded on your behalf, swearing you mean well and begging me to give you another chance to prove you truly want only to obey and serve me.  Is she right?”

She smirked with satisfaction as Chastity made more muffled noises, just managing to nod her head despite the force with which it was being pressed down into the floor beneath her by her position and the weight on her shoulders. 

“I can’t understand you, ninny,” she managed not to betray her amusement.  “Nod more clearly for yes, shake your head more clearly for no!”

After she had made Chastity nod with her face smashed against the ground for a couple of minutes (and after she could control her voice again) she continued, sounding doubtful:  “All right.  On Penny’s word—and yours—I’ll give you one more chance to show me how you feel about me.  But if you don’t demonstrate how eager you are to serve and please me, I’ll know you’re both lazy liars and send you both back to some very, very heavy punishment work in hell.  Do you understand me?”  And, as she nodded, as frantically and emphatically as she could, Channah—leaning forward, of course, to make it as hard as possible for her—added:  “Do you want to play here and have sex with me?”  (more nodding). “Or do you want to go break rocks and mine for gold in hell?  We don’t actually have any,” she snickered, clarifying, as Chastity shook her head frantically, “But you’ll be punished if you don’t dig, and punished for failing to meet your quotas, anyway!” 

And after letting her worry about that for a bit, Channah asked:  “Are you ready to do your very best to please me and be loyal, if I let you go?” 

This time, she let Chastity hear her satisfied, contemptuous cackle, before using her heels to deliver a not-really-very-friendly blow to the girl’s shoulder blades and standing to untie her arms, relishing the way Chastity’s body sagged and twisted in relief and avoidance of as much harm from the camel hair as possible, as Channah untied the belts securing the hairshirt and removed it from her now-badly-scratched and -abraded body.  After removing her blindfold and gag, she asked her:  “What do you say, is that better?”

“Yes, Domina!”  Chastity wailed, turning to face Channah, dropping to her knees, and pressing her lips to Channah’s feet in a single motion.  “Thank you, Domina!  Thank you for letting me have a second chance!  I do love you, Domina, and I am yours!  Thank you for your mercy and kindness!  I promise I won’t disappoint you, Domina!”

She let it go on a bit, grinning down at her girl’s head bobbing and moving over her feet as she lay kisses on every inch of them that she could reach and dribbling out obsequious compliments and entreaties.  Then, making herself scowl so she could sound harsh, she commanded her slave to prove it by retracing their steps to the pool area and the gazebo, picking up everything they (well, she) had dropped and discarded, and either throwing it over the cliff if it were trash, washing it in the bathing pool if it were washable, and bringing it back to the house to dry or put it away properly. 

Pausing in the hallway as she dressed, pulling on her bra, dress, and mules, she called Penny to the top of the stairs and informed both girls she would be communicating with her vassals in the command suite and whenever a girl finished her assigned chores, she should report for more by respectfully crawling into the command room where Channah could see them, and waiting silently on hands and knees until Channah could take a minute to speak with them.  “And remember:  I expect perfection!  You girls have no idea how much it turns me on to know you’re obediently doing my cleaning, laundry, and cooking while I work, or rest, or amuse myself.  If you do a good and diligent job to my exacting standards, believe me…” she moaned “you will see just how much it turns me on and makes me love you.  Conversely, I’ll leave you to imagine how it makes me feel, and how I’m likely to treat you, if you disappoint me by slacking off or doing a poor job.”

In fact, she periodically slipped silently from her command room to observe each girl, a bit disconcerted to find that she actually cared whether they were busily at work or lollygagging, whether they did their jobs well or with mediocrity, whether they had done a good job to please their Domina or a bad one to earn punishment. 

Some part of her was actually tense with her genuine hope they would not disappoint her, because she actually wanted them to confirm a confidence she realized she actually wanted to have in them.  That was a terribly unsettling and atypical concern; and she tried, unsuccessfully, to remind herself that the hopes and dreams and loyalty of mortals were more meaningless than dust on an entryway floor.  But despite her self-talk, she could still feel how much she wanted them to validate and reassure her with their sincerity.  Unsure what else—beside acting on it—she could do with such feelings, she shoved them to the back of her mind and contacted her Castellan. By the evening time, the girls had finished their cleaning and washing, and done it well.  They had emptied and rinsed the chamber pots from a small ledge beside the top of the waterfall over the cliff, set the table, prepared and placed their dinner of warm bread, cold cuts, vegetables, and fruit on serving plates on the dining table, opened two bottles of spiked wine to breathe, done everything else she asked of them, bathed themselves with soap, and sweetened their mouths with mints.

Literature Section “07-30[X] Chore Time for Working Girls”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 30 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 1621 words—Accompanying Images:  2139A-2140D—Published 2025-07-30—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.