Tag: dragon

2200 07-38 Chthonic Tarot–Pharaoh of Diamonds–Mexico (Poker-sized–variant A)
2200 07-38 Chthonic Tarot–Pharaoh of Diamonds–Mexico (Tarot-sized–variant A)
2201 07-38 Chthonic Tarot–Pharaoh of Diamonds–Mexico (Poker-sized–variant B)
2201 07-38 Chthonic Tarot–Pharaoh of Diamonds–Mexico (Tarot-sized–variant B)
2239 07-38C supply-your-own caption
2240 07-38C Penny Finds Hong too Mesmerizing to Mind
2237 07-38C THANK YOU 200 Watchers! …again (broken heart queen)
2238 07-38C THANK YOU 200 Watchers! …again (death card queen)

WARNING:  CONTAINS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT.

GAME RULES AVAILABLE HERE. [INSERT LINK]

RM: https://theremainderman.com/stories/07-38a-mans-ruin-succubaean-rules-for-playing-perdition/

DA:  https://www.deviantart.com/theremainderman-com/art/07-38A-Man-s-Ruin-Succubaean-Perdition-Rules-1239280264

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Húanglóng have agreed to resolve a disagreement between them by betting on a game of Perdition:  Demonic Tarot.  When Penny is upset to find her services anted up into the pot, Channah dares her to raise the stakes and fight for herself.  The game is beginning with the serious business of betting enhanced by shameless teasing and cheating on the side.  NOW:

Stake 1—Betting Their Asses

“As the hostess, it falls to me to call for the stakes.  With the House whole,” Channah began, batting her eyelashes at her husband:  “Sweetie dear, since you are offering a condition…”

Húanglóng responded, rolling his eyes:  “Yes, dear.  Channah, as stakes for this game, I offer the services of myself and two of my best vassals—their selection being subject to your veto—to spend exactly one week at Sademtsaowah using every ounce of our persuasive powers in good faith training every jariya you deliver to us there during the week we are committed to staying.  And as a condition for inducing you to make a counter-stake, I renounce any claim that under our marriage contract, marrying chattel would change their status or their treatment.”

“Thank you, my love,” Channah smiled and reciprocated:  “Húanglóng, as stakes for this game, I offer the services of my servants George, Jacob, Esmeray, Chastity, and Penance, with Fang’s consent Huifen—”

Fang quietly but audibly intoned “Consent.”

“and with Kadidia’s consent Boubacar—”

Kadidia likewise murmured “Consent.”

“In their present condition less any losses they incur during this esteemed game, for a period of exactly one week, with title and no restrictions of any kind except that you must return them in at least as good as the condition you received them, subject to normal wear and tear.  I will deliver them to you without anything else, not so much as a stitch of clothing or a sip of water, if you can win more tricks than me before the House is unsealed.”

“Your counter is acceptable, and my offer is firm.”

“I accept it.”

“DONE!” they both cried, slamming their fists on the table.

“Well-met and well-bet!” came several approving cries from around the table.

Stake 2—Staked and Baked

Practically before the cheers were finished, Judas impatiently barked:

“As stakes for every trick of this game, I offer on behalf of the Lodge that every member of the team losing the highest-ranked card, take a deep draught.  And as a condition for inducing the members of each team to agree, I propose every member of the Lodge finish a tankard or a bong before each deal and certify their compliance by pronouncing themselves ‘Staked and Baked’!”

“Seconded!” Húanglóng, Rivqah, and Kadidia all roared at once.  “Vote!”

“Aye!” every demon at the table announced, and then immediately stared at Penny, whose jaw had dropped at the proposal and had to close her mouth before she gulped.

“Excuse me, Mistresses and Masters.”  Turning to her teammates she asked “What do you think?”

While behind her came a chorus of loud boos and razz noises.  Penny glanced back, looking indignant, and burst:  “What?!  Mistresses.”

“This isn’t a democracy!” 

“Who do you think you’re playing with?!”

“I was told the rules—” more catcalls immediately drowned out Penny’s ability to speak, and almost, she capitulated, but noticing several players were laughing, Jacob looked pissed, Tiferet looked curious, and the human lovers looked resigned (and ignoring George’s confused expression), Penny frowned thoughtfully, turning back towards her teammates.

Before she could even articulate her question, Chas, with a gesture for her to hurry, said: “Yes!  Yes!  Of course!”

“Fine,” Esmeray agreed, unphased.

“Ah—Aye?” Penny said back to the table

“DONE!” Judas led a chorus comprised of everyone at the table except Penny, likewise leading the Lodge by slamming his fist down into the table.

“PRINCESS!”  Channah bellowed.

“Done,” Startled, she rapped the table unconvincingly, earning another round of complaints.

Stake 3—Packed and Jacked

“Is this one as soft as she seems?”  Judas demanded.

“She is!”  Kadidia, Rivqah, and Miriam all chorused with various degrees of disparagement while Penny’s shoulders stiffened and Channah choked with laughter on the bong she was inhaling from.

Judas shook his head while Húanglóng barked, “I think I see where this is going!  Doing—as you have asked—by applying my ingenuity to their training, I think we need to play by dragon rules.  I propose we add the Dragon King rule for the duration of the game!”  From their reactions, Channah and her handmaidens knew this rule, and would be likely to approve.

“I am not familiar with that,” Judas admitted, while several other players shook their heads to indicate the same.

“Point of order—” Penny raised her hand, being completely ignored by Húanglóng, who bellowed over her:

“I propose, starting immediately, that the starter of each deal be able to unilaterally change and add rules at the beginning of each deal!”

“I love it!”  “Second!”  “Vote!” various demons cried.

Penny seized a momentary silence to blurt out at high speed:  “point-of-order-you-can’t-add-rules-the-first-round!”  And then when the demons came up short, staring at her, she swallowed again.  “Can you?”

Kadidia and Fang exchanged an amused, but intent look over Penny’s head that the girls would soon understand meant they were communicating through their minds.  With a decisive nod, they both surprised Penny by sliding right up against her from either side, hooking their near arms under hers to push them behind their shoulders where they would be useless and locking them in place with their own arms, their near hands each reaching around Penny’s head to play with her hair and ears and giggling at her reaction.

“Hey!”  Penny protested ineffectually.  “Wha—you can’t—can you?!”

“Actually, we can, chattel,” Fang assured her.  “As long as we don’t interfere with your game play—and since we haven’t even chosen the starter or the dealer yet, there’s no game to play—we can do—” she leaned in, brushing her lips over Kadidia’s hand and Penny’s ear to whisper:  “whatever we want.”

“And make you do whatever we want,” Kadidia added, reminding her:  “You’re still property of our Queen, and thus chattel to all the succubae.  Chattel.”  And then, seeing how Penny gasped, she reached her far hand around, nodding at Fang who followed her lead.  Both of them placed their hands on Penny’s knees, and when she tried instinctively to snap them together, both succubae laughed, slipping their hands partway up Penny’s thighs and seizing them by their insides, pulling them insistently.  “Are you… resisting, chattel?”  her soft, pseudo-intimate suggestion hinting at closeness while being pitched loudly enough for the whole table to hear, provoking a round of expressions of surprise and mock-concern.

“No, Mistress,” Penny whined, deflating and yielding as the two succubae prised her knees apart and then gasping again in shock, amusing the other teams, as they deftly lifted them over their own knees.

Before their hands snuck back towards Penny’s crotch, almost making the poor girl hyperventilate.

“Don’t move them back unless we tell you to,” Fang whispered.

“No, Mistress!”

“Do you know what your Domina gave us?”

“No, Mistress?”  Penny sounded uncertain and nervous.

“Access… privileges…” Fang hissed sensually, as her hand closed on Penny’s cage, squeezing it to command it to open and pulling it from her body, eliciting a deep, shocked breath that turned into a querulous squeal.

“She sounds scared!” Judas laughed.  “Certainly not the reaction you’d expect from a girl lucky enough to have kept her cock.  So far.”

“Oh, she doesn’t have a cock—look at it,” Fang simpered, leaning back so by leaning forward Judas could see it.

With a surprised sound, he laughed:  “Point taken!”

“But her clitty is very.  Hard,” Fang purred.

“And it is cute,” Kadidia teased.

“I’d warn you she hasn’t been allowed any cummies in some time and she’s close to popping but…” Channah shrugged.

“Oh, it’s obvious,” Kadidia laughed.

 “Open your mouth,” Fang commanded her quietly; and then:  “Wider.”  And when Penny obeyed, she pushed the cage, and the hem of Penny’s dress, between her teeth, commanding her to “Hold those fast!” This, and the way they were holding her arms behind them and her legs on top of theirs, had two salutary effects:  The first, of putting Penny completely on display for the very salacious attentions of her admirers, and the second, of shutting Penny up. 

Fang held up a single finger, her index finger, so close to Penny’s face her eyes crossed, and then slowly and dramatically, dropped it between Penny’s legs, tickle-stroking her clit from one end to the other, eliciting a forceful, helpless squeak and a helpless shudder that caused the entire crowd to erupt in delight.  Her face turned red and she writhed and shuddered helplessly under the intensity of Fang’s one, delicate, carefully-applied fingertip, entertaining the Lodge even as it embarrassed her.  Most of all, it embarrassed her she couldn’t help her body’s (and if she could admit it to herself, her soul’s) responses to the things that were done to her, no matter how much she tried.  It made her feel like a scandalous, sinful little hussy, and she was afraid it revealed her to be exactly that.

“What do you think… shouldn’t your team vote to play Dragon King Perdition?  Hmm baby?”

“You know we’d think up ever such sensual and obscene pleasures a scandalous, sinful little hussy like you would adore!”

Penny made a sharp, screeching sound of protest as the room erupted in cruel laughter, mortified and dismayed to have her own thoughts—thoughts she wished she could stop herself hearing, or better yet even having—broadcast to the roomful of people around her. 

“And I think we could add rules in the first round,” Kadidia managed to make it sound like something she’d just decided this moment, as her finger began brushing over Penny’s taint, slipping insidiously between the rising globes of her buttocks to explore and tease where they had not been invited.  But Penny’s face and labored breath and glowing skin made it obvious to everyone in the room that she was incapable of offering resistance to any violation, however outrageous, if only her expert handlers were the ones to demand it of her.  Her hips were starting to shift and roll, and the sounds she made when she breathed were becoming higher-pitched and harder.  “Don’t you, ‘zuckerbär’?”

“Maybe—” Penny almost seemed to have forgotten her mouth was supposed to be holding her cage and hem; the dress didn’t fall far, but her cage would have fallen to the floor and rolled under the table if Fang hadn’t caught it and tossed it on the table before setting her hand back to work.  “Domina Esmeray please—”

“Nooo,” her qahramanah promptly said, firmly and lyrically, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world but she was trying to explain it to a child.  Pushing her knuckles into Penny’s back, she urged her:  “Say ‘no’ or say nothing!” 

“Yes Mistress—I mean, no! OHOWOWOWW!” her voice jumped an octave and several decibels as Kadidia’s teasing finger curled with her other fingers into a vise she clamped around Penny’s purse, twisting and pinching it brutally enough that Penny instinctively started bringing her legs together and trying to struggle out of their arms.  But they just laughed, Kadidia wrenching all the harder and Fang turning her own gentle fingertip into a raking claw.

“Legs spread!” they both commanded at once, and with a whimper, and then sobbing, Penny made herself yield, her knees shaking with the effort to fight her own instincts while Kadidia continued to hurt her, confused further as Fang kissed her sweetly… and then Kadidia, aggressively.

Around them, the assault on Penny was bad news for everyone else of lower status.  The wisdom of Tifaret’s proactive attentions to her Queen became more obvious—by anticipating her liege’s pleasure, she at least had some measure of agency over how she served it. Whether Channah was kinder to her than her handmaidens had been to the cambions because of her demonic purity, or because of her cleverness, was not entirely clear.  But their particular cruelty to Jacob seemed confirmed by how Rivqah, almost idly, was turning and twisting the nipple clamps she had just affixed to him.  Oliver’s fate, meanwhile, was somewhere in the middle:  Standing rigidly, facing away from the table, to form a seat-back for Miriam.

Húanglóng, sitting on the other side of Fang, snarled, making a mildly disgusted gesture towards Penny, its mildness expressing more about his laid-back personality than his opinion of people:  “You’re rewarding her!  She’s clearly a nervous Nellie, a sour-faced Puritan, and even worse—a pedantic pseudo-intellectual!  All at once!”

“Pseudo-intellectual,” Channah crowed.  “Ouch!  I’ll have you know I’ve invested in years of education for these three!”

“They’re shitting cattle!  Swine before whom you’ve cast your pearls.  ‘Pseudo’ at best, I’d say.  And I can assure you, little Ms. Twit—” Húanglóng shook his finger at Penny accusingly “—if you so much as open your entitled little mouth while you’re reporting to me, I’ll fill it immediately with something that needs servicing!  Speaking of which….”

Everyone who was a full-blooded demon was laughing, as Húanglóng leaned behind Fang to grab Huifen around her waist and Hong by her arm, pulling them both over to him and sitting them on opposite knees as they squealed and purred perfectly for him.  “Seeing as how you’re not using these…”

Fang’s face revealed little or nothing, but it can be said she didn’t look enthusiastic, or necessarily even pleased, by the King’s—not even her King’s—helping himself to her property.

Húanglóng would not have noticed if she had been more expressive; he was already locking lips with Hong, who was giggling and moving her hand between his legs, while Huifen followed her Mistress’s lead, leaning over to kiss his neck and running her hand over his chest.

On the other side of Esmeray, Judas, complaining:  “I’m not going to be the only one left out!  You two!” he snapped his finger at Chastity and Boubacar.  “Come get on my knees!”

Chastity felt her heart flutter; she just couldn’t tell why.  She felt fear, primarily of the unknown, but she also felt excitement, from that, and the way Judas looked; which was normal enough—not like the Dragon King with his nearly divine charisma and size—but fit and well-maintained.  And not the tiniest part of her was glad someone had at least picked her!  A minute later, despite her embarrassment at being ordered around and used as a prostitute, and by a male no less, she also felt herself hardening , provoking a pleased chuckle from Judas when he felt it.  It was a vile, nasty, dirty, delicious, daring excitement she’d become trained to without ever intending to; a shameful, wicked, thrilling feeling just on the cusp between craving and nausea, that she hadn’t felt with such force since her fagmaster had graduated a year ahead of her.  It was a kind of a sick, conditioned thrill serving the succubae hadn’t juiced her with.  Chastity didn’t know why, exactly; only that her reaction to being dominated by Judas was stronger and more confusing than serving Mayaan, or Channah and her Duchesses. 

She blushed a brilliant tomato red.  And she kinda liked it.

Obviously, she was not alone in her helpless and conflicted reactions to her treatment.  Fang was whispering, with mock-disgust:  “She’s leaking!” just as—miraculously from Penny’s point of view—Kadidia released her brutal hold on Penny, moving her hand to yank Penny forward by her leg until her bottom was hanging off the edge of the divan and only her legs and arms were holding her aloft.  Fang giggled, blowing on Penny’s ear.  “I’m not sure if I did this by exciting her, or you made her pee in fear!  A little bit of both, I think.”

“Either way, it will have to do,” Kadidia rumbled, collecting it on her fingertip and immediately pushing her long, powerful middle finger against, and then inside, Penny’s bottom as she cooed helplessly.  Her cry degenerated rapidly into a strange, delighted, strangled, gurgling sigh of a kind.  She concluded, with a satisfied smirk:  “How’s it feel to be packed and jacked, sweetie?”  The question was taken as rhetorical by the other demons, who laughed and applauded.

“Don’t sway!” Esmeray—the only one of the humans and cambions not being actively used by demons—took advantage of her situation to protect her team’s interests.  Alarmed, she growled, tapping Penny’s shoulder insistently from behind, seizing Penny’s neck with her other hand and pulling back on it so she could bite the back of her neck sharply to keep her attention focused.  “Demand they sustain your point of order!”

“I—er…” Penny croaked, her legs straightening and her toes pointing over her captors’ laps as she shuddered slightly:  “Sustained—me—please…”

Channah, laughing with the rest of them but quite serious, slammed her palms on the table and commanded, with a resigned tone:  “Stop!  She is not to cum!”

And as Fang and Kadidia abruptly withdrew, laughing in a conspiracy of glances, they revealed the wreck that was left of Penny, her eyes rolled up inside the lids of her eyes, her mouth hanging wide open and gasping, her head rolling from side to side, lying with her hands curled around Kadidia’s and Fang’s shoulders holding tight for dear life, her legs straight out and toes curling back in a hyperextended split, her whole body shuddering on her captors as her sensitive little clit throbbed with as much yang as it could muster between her legs.

Kadidia casually dipped and waggled her finger in Penny’s wine cup and fed it to her, quietly ordering her to clean it, repeating the action until she was satisfied her hand was pristine, as the conversation continued around them.

Stake 4—Orgasm Control

The whole table stared with fascinated suspense as Judas cried “A Hate she still comes!”

“I’ll cover that action,” Rivqah answered.  “Idiot.”

“How little he thinks of succubae!” Miriam agreed.

“Bring it in-house!” Tifaret demanded, requesting that he not merely lay a side bet but add stakes to the game, as Penny’s shaking slowed.

“Hear hear!” several others chorused.

“Whoever makes her cum first—” Judas started, distracted for good reason.

“No!  Boo!” came shouts immediately from most of the succubae around them, laughing and shaking their heads.

“What?”

“You are not going to reward anyone for making her cum!”  Channah complained.

“Whyever not?”

“Males!” howled the succubae from every direction, and even Judas laughed guiltily.

“Really, as with any steer, it wouldn’t be much of a bet, would it?” Rivqah observed.  “I mean…” she gestured towards the still-struggling, gasping Penny.

Tifaret snorted, almost spitting out a mouthful of wine.  “The only question would be whether we’d accidentally tear her little clit off as we fought to touch it first!”

“A touch is all it would take!” Fang agreed, smirking down at Penny’s bobbing member.  “Still!  She’s a horny little bitch.”

“And more to the point,” Húanglóng yelled, “No cheapening of the stakes!”

“I would never!” Judas thundered.  “You impugn me, sir!”  And then immediately undermined his own indignation by murmuring:  “What did I do?” revealing he clearly had no idea what Húanglóng was talking about.

“This steer is already a stake between Channah and I,” the dragon explained, “Any jariya, but especially a steer, is worth more quick than slack!”

“Well, I mean… a bull is worth more quick, surely?”  Rivqah frowned.

“Not to me,” Judas scoffed.  “I don’t need them hard.  Not that it’s ever a problem….”

The original steer in question finally started to calm, breathing more regularly, her muscles slowly relaxing from bow-taut to slumped, with a forlorn expression that amused those who saw it.

“Oh, all right,” Judas conceded.  “But if you want a prudish bet it will be better-formed by one of my viraginous sisters.”

“Damned right you are!” Kadidia agreed.

As it happened, it it was Esmeray who startled them all by making a not-very-modest proposal:  “As stakes for the game, I offer on behalf of the Lodge that if any other team makes Penny cum, they have to clean it up with their tongues.”

The table erupted immediately with exaggerated objections before she was even finished:  “No!”  “Outrageous!”  “She’s just a slave!”  “She should reward us for that!”

So Esmeray had to raise her voice to finish her wager:  “And if Penny or Chastity makes her cum, I’m going to fist them with the biggest item in their toybox and leave it inside the offender.”

The protests immediately trailed off as everyone at the table, while laughing or somehow managing not to, agreed that was fair.  Well, everyone except Penny and Chas, who despite their respective distractions, were startled enough to stare at her in shock.

“I think that should protect your interests dear, and my plans,” Channah admitted.  “Assuming, that is, Penny understands what we’re talking about?”  Everyone immediately looked at Penny, whose expression was all the answer they needed.  “I’d say she’s worked it out.”

Penny, afraid of being blamed for a demon’s work, could only manage:  “Maybe it would be best if you—put my cage back on, Domina?”

As the players dissolved in laughter, Channah shook her head.  “Certainly not!  Esmeray, if you could learn to enjoy the interests of succubae you’d have a bright future at this game.  That was an excellent wager.  Now I feel torn between my plans for Penny and the bright spectacle of someone having to deliver!  Exactly what this game is about!”

“Second!” called Kadidia, clarifying “the newly-proposed game stakes.”

Húanglóng, Rivqah, and Miriam all roared at once.  “Vote!”

“Done!” shouted everyone at the table, except Penny again (if she could even be said to be “at the table” anymore), whose jaw had dropped at the proposal and who didn’t even turn to her teammates before instinctively beginning:  “No!—” But Esmeray was ready for her, bringing her hand up from Penny’s neck to her mouth, covering it firmly and pulling the smaller woman back against her shoulder as Esmeray declared “Done,” in her usual businesslike way.  Penny instinctively reached up to seize Esmeray’s hands, but then hesitated, and instead of fighting, she obediently held onto Esmeray’s arm, looking indignant but uncertain.

Chas thought about trying to stand up for her friend, expecting (or perhaps, more accurately, hoping) it was pointless, and feeling guilty for her silence.

Kadidia, however, did act—offering a fresh bong to Esmeray and suggesting:  “This will fill her as well as a cock and better than your hand.”  And when she saw Esmeray wasn’t following:  “Use it for a pacifier on your zuckerbär.” 

“She’ll choke on it,” Esmeray assured her.  “And then probably throw up.  On us, Mistress.”

“From what I’ve seen of the girl, she’s likely right,” Fang conceded.  “Perhaps she should stick with the spiked wine.”

Kadidia considered for a minute, then looked thoughtfully at Channah, her lips curved upwards in amusement:  “You want to keep your wives and your bed sweet, don’t you?”

 “Perhaps 3 nights out of 4,” Channah allowed.  “And rough the other one.”  The demons roared with laughter.  “But…” Channah’s eyes narrowed.  “I expect they’ll need to be sweet with their clients more often than that.  But never dull,” she emphasized.  “Never dull in my bed or with their clients.  I have whorehouses full of those.”

“The Germans have been experimenting with all manner of tinctures.”

“Alchemists?”

“Some of them, yes; others, physicians.  A Swiss one, Theophrastus von Hohenheim,” she laughed “with a choleric temperament that continually gets him into trouble has invented a number of laughably toxic and other dangerous concoctions, including one called laudanum.  But his ‘laudanum’ does contain one ancient and proven medicine, a most agreeable tincture of the poppy, which I like to blend with the tincture of Má.”  She set a small bottle on the table filled with a dirty dark-brown liquid.  “It can be diluted in wine or simply mixed with honey or blackstrap molasses.  Although Boubacar’s training is so far advanced, he will eat the tincture by itself!” Kadidia laughed, not quite pleasantly.  “Make her suck on this until it’s empty.  You’ll see.”

And when Esmeray nodded, Kadidia rolled it into Penny’s mouth, as Esmeray raised her hand, lowering it back down and then jiggling it in Penny’s mouth as she looked down at her, drinking up her affront and submission like a drug. “You heard grandmother.  Suck on it for mommy.  I said—” and then, seeing Penny comply, she looked back up at the table, well pleased with herself.

Stake 5—Conspiracy of Silence

“Yes,” Miriam agreed, “It is good to silence a slave.  To that end, for the benefit of and on behalf of the Lodge, I propose as stakes for the game that anyone who raises a point of order that a majority of the Lodge overrules has to spend the rest of the game as a—”

“Except dealing!” Channah interjected.

“The rest of the game except dealing, as naked furniture of choice for the starter team.”

It was seconded and done as quickly as it was proposed, Esmeray both agreeing and ensuring with a glance that Chas remained quiet and with her hand that Penance did.  Although her eyes blazed with the injustice and unreasonableness of what was happening, Penny just clung to Esmeray’s arm, tears stinging her eyes.

Stake 6—Opposing Forces

Judas grinned evilly.

“Simply to keep the game interesting…”

“Oh, we must keep it interesting,” Channah agreed.

“On behalf of the Lodge, I propose as stakes for the trick that any team, including, ah—let’s see—Aristotle and Ms. Glower over there!” And he snapped his finger with his arm pointing toward Penny and Esmeray.

“Meoto,” Rivqah prompted, proposing one of Penny’s nicknames—chatterbox, which in Japanese also implied effeminacy.

“Yes! Meoto’s team!  Any team with a member moving their flesh against Meoto’s clitoris and  purse before the first card is played in each trick, may switch turn-order with anyone else for that trick.”

This proposal actually prompted a second of silence before people started responding.  There were two “seconds,” but Miriam began hesitantly:  “That… sounds like….”  Then she shook her head.  “Never mind.” 

“It’s not a rule modification!”  Judas insisted, knowing what she had been considering asking. 
“Each party to the transaction is just agreeing they will switch their own place if they lose the bet, and since it’s a proposed rule for the lodge, everyone will have made the same agreement!”

“Plausible….”  “I like it!” “Oh, come now, how can we resist?”  The demons offered a variety of thoughts that fell somewhere between excuses and true agreements.

“Second, but only with the clarification that your flesh must be moving against hers at all times you’re touching,” Fang suggested, resting her hand familiarly—almost possessively—on Penny’s still bare lower belly, demonstrating by pushing and stroking her skin in a teasing game of proximity to Penny’s sex as she glanced at her victim and winked, before turning her attention back to the table, her hand lazily circling Penny’s belly and thighs and hips, as Penny froze like a deer in a bulls’-eye lantern, hardly breathing.  “I don’t want any teams camping out on her flesh without taking a risk…”

Channah looked torn, but finally shrugged with the grudging suggestion of a smile.  “Fine.  It’s clever, Miss Fang.  A delightful opposition of forces.”

Fang looked down at her victim and observed:  “It may not be that much of a risk…. Your girl doesn’t seem to be much of an exhibitionist.”

“We’re working on her,” Rivqah offered spiritedly.

“Then your amendment—or ‘clarification’—is accepted and the stakes, so modified, offered again,” Judas announced, having it seconded and approved as quickly as in the previous round.  “That’s what they call a ‘cum bet’ in Hazard.”

“And I supposed,” Fang drawled, “we’d call this little twig here a ‘cum bar’?”

“Precisely!”

Penny, in the arms of two different women, and yet in a counterpoise of her own, managed to look miserable and defiant all at once.

“Any other stakes?” Channah asked.

“Next round, certainly!”

“Then let’s play!”

RULES OF THE CARD GAME THE CHARACTERS ARE PLAYING AVAILABLE HERE. [INSERT LINK]

RM: https://theremainderman.com/stories/07-38a-mans-ruin-succubaean-rules-for-playing-perdition/

DA:  https://www.deviantart.com/theremainderman-com/art/07-38A-Man-s-Ruin-Succubaean-Perdition-Rules-1239280264

Literature Section “07-38C Just Some Bad Dirty Fun:  Packing and Jacking”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 38 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4417 words—Accompanying Images:  2200-2201, 2237-2240—Published 2025-09-18—©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.


2230 07-38B Chthonic Tarot–Medlar & Hellcoin Deck back of cards (Poker)

2230 07-38B Chthonic Tarot–Medlar & Hellcoin Deck back of cards (Tarot)
2231 07-38B Chthonic Tarot–Antipope Deck back of cards (Poker)
2231 07-38B Chthonic Tarot–Antipope Deck back of cards (Tarot)
2232 07-38B The Currency of Hell (Hate-Lie-Take-Win coin)
2234 07-38B Fifty-Two-Card Monte.  That’s Fair.
2235 07-38B Perdition Tarot–meet your dealer
2236 07-38B Keep Your Eye on the Lady

CAUTION:  Contains themes of gambling marijuana opium spirits and wine some readers may find objectionable

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

PREVIOUSLY:  In the afterglow shared with the other members of their party, Queen Channah admits she wants Húanglóng to help train her jawari, and Húanglóng acknowledges he welcomes the chance to use them.  But she would prefer him to train them at her castle under her supervision, and he would prefer to use them around his castle back home.  They agree to decide the issue by betting on a game of Tarot.  When Penny is upset to find her services anted up into the pot, Channah dares her to raise the stakes and fight for herself.  NOW:

Chastity came back into the room looking anxious as she tried to carry stacks of cards cradled awkwardly in her hands and arms without spilling them.  By this time, the demons and cambions and qahramanat were chatting gaily, fully-dressed again, and seated—Tiferet behind her easel and the rest of them around the makeshift table—while Penny served them.

“Good work, sweetmeat!”  Channah complemented her.  “You—both of you—put your dresses back on, then sort out a full deck as best you can and bring it to us when you’re ready.”

“Yes, Domina,” Chas curtsied briefly, smothering her own look of hurt at the suggestion she couldn’t sort a pack of cards, before allowing the cards to tumble onto one of the remaining, unused divans.  “Would you like big cards or small ones, Domina?”

“I really can’t fix that,” Húanglóng admitted.

“I know,” Channah rolled her eyes.  “Ninnies and prudes.  That’s what I get for being such an indulgent Domina.”  Then, to Chas:  “We’ll want the small ones, dumpling.  For playing.  Penny, hurry up, finish serving, and help her!”  she replied, managing to make her servant feel even worse while answering her question.

Esmeray, looking embarrassed, rose quietly as she could from the demons’ gossip about matters and actors ranging across hell and earth just as Penny reached her sister, who whispered in frustration:  “These cards are mad!  Would you have known what size–?”

Penny shook her head, setting her hand on Chastity’s shoulder reassuringly.  “No, but I don’t know about cards.  Do they all have to be the same size?  What else are they even meant for?  Besides sinning, I mean?”  Then, first setting her eyes on the cards themselves, a look of wonder crossed her face.  “But they are beautifully printed….”  That was such an understatement, she corrected:  “If they were even printed….”

In fact, they had more colors and details than any printing the girls had ever seen on any printed material.  As far as Penny knew, printing was done with a single color:  black, on white.  These appeared to be hand-painted and even gilded, each one a treasure in itself.  But at the same time, the symbols on the cards showed such perfection and utter uniformity in shape and appearance it was hard to imagine the discipline that would have been required by artisans to produce such consistency.

Esmeray surprised them by joining them, looking upset:  “I agree with Húanglóng.  You’re both stupid.  The cards have to be the same size for shuffling and for keeping others from guessing your cards.”  Seeing their expressions, she shrugged.  “What?  I’ve been serving the demons directly most of my life.  If I allow you two stupid whores to frustrate them, they’ll take it out on all of us, sooner or later.  Especially since I’m meant to be your trainer, aren’t I?  Start thinking about how you make me look!”  The girls exchanged an amazed look, for the first time considering that as a human and a qahramanah, Esmeray might share more in common with them, than with the demons.  Then, as Esmeray noticed what Chas and Penny were doing—Chas sorting by deck and Penny by size—exasperation was joined by confusion:  “At a minimum we need to use the same approach!  They need to be sorted by deck and size!  How can the same decks contain different-sized cards?”

“What do you mean, ‘deck’?”  Penny frowned.

This time, both Esmeray and Chastity looked at her in amazement.  “You’re not putting on an act, are you?”  Esmeray wondered.  “You really haven’t played cards before, have you?”  She held up two cards, back facing Penny.  “Decks.  You can tell by what’s on the back of the cards.  All the cards in a deck have to match so others can’t tell what cards you’re holding.  So, first, we need to separate by decks into the antipope cards and—whatever these are…” she stuck her tongue out in disgust.

“Antipope?!”  Penny’s eyes widened, and she looked like she wanted to drop the cards before they scalded her hands.  Even Chas looked startled, to recognize what she meant.

“Let’s discuss basic symbology,” she mocked, holding up one card.  “I’m from a Muslim culture where even the Christians aren’t Catholics, and even I recognize it.  Triple crown and crossed keys?  Pope.  Pentagram and goat’s head?   Not pope.  That’s one set, and it’s the antipope.  Put it over here, in different piles by what size they are.”  Then, as the girls began following her example, she held up a card from a different deck.  “Serican coin and weird flower/sea monster/thing—” Penny didn’t understand the odd emphasis on the word ‘thing,’ but Chas, familiar with the slang term, did.

Chas was surprised by something else.  “Saracen money?”

“Not ‘Saracen.’  Which is ignorant and insulting, by the way,” Esmeray pointed out.  “‘Serican.’  Eastern.  Chinese.”

“I don’t think ‘Serican’ is any more accurate than ‘Saracen,’” Penny began, before seeing Esmeray’s expression and immediately shutting her mouth, finally beginning to realize that as was so often the case, her thoughts were neither welcome nor, in the eyes of her audience, relevant.

“It is her putrid thing!” Esmeray announced in triumph, then clarified:  “What is it called, the corrupt fruit?  Medlar!  Her symbol, the broken-hearted medlar.”

“That’s what it is!”  Penny sounded relieved to have an identification, and thus a proper place, for it in her mind.

“Well… kind-of,” Chastity and Esmeray snickered.  And Chastity elbowed her good-naturedly.  “Virgin.”

“Pseudo-virgin at best, I think,” Esmeray corrected meanly.  And then, seeing Penny’s confused expression, holding the card in front of her face and pointing to the sea-monster-rotten-fruit, clarified about the image:  “It’s what your sister had her face buried in half an hour ago.  Don’t you think?”

Penny turned pink.  Apparently she did think.

“Finally, the candle flickers to light,” Esmeray shook her head.  “Having met Eleanor and Frances, I can only agree with Her Majesty that you two are ill-prepared for your assigned profession.”  And seeing their confusion, she elaborated:  “Those two are unshockable and compliant as slaves should be,” she spat.  “If you consider yourselves ill-used, wait until you’ve worked with them.”  Then she turned her attention back to the cards:  “They’re endless.  Why does she have so many?  Penny—keep sorting by size and deck with me.  Chas—start with the smallest cards… the medlar-coin cards, I think, we look to have more of them—and start sorting them by suit.”

“What are ‘suits’?”  Penny asked curiously, prompting Esmeray and Chas to look at one another in astonishment.

Their qahramanah explained:  “Every card has a shape on it.”  She pointed to something that looked not entirely dissimilar from the rotten medlar, without the tendrils or the tear down the middle.  “These red shapes are hearts.  All the hearts go in one pile.  Then the dark-green diamonds go in another pile.  And so on.”

Seeing Chas throw different suits in the same pile, Esmeray frowned at her.  “What are you doing?  I thought you knew something about cards.”

“Getting rid of the extras, Mistress?” she answered uncertainly.

“What ‘extras’?!”

“Diamonds, hearts, clubs, spades.  There are four suits, although the colors are wrong.  And they’re all scratched.”  And then she indicated the pile with the cards that didn’t have one of those four symbols.  “Extras!”

“Those aren’t ‘extras,’” she explained, exasperated.  “This isn’t France or England.  It’s Hell. The deck has nine suits here.  The four you’re familiar with, the Triumphs—” she held up a card with a crown that looked suspiciously like a tiara with the same tendrils as the rotten medlar  “—and the other regular suits:  coins, swords, chalices, and wands.  And they’re not scratches; they’re trigrams.”

“Why did they add all these suits?”

“These are actually the old suits.  Mamluk decks—Egyptian Mamluks, who are Turkish Muslims,” she added, confusing Chas, but with a trace of loyalty, “introduced you Christian savages to cards, as the Muslim world has introduced you to every form of civilization.  These are our suits.”

“Actually, they’re our suits,” a new voice added with contempt, as Hong, accompanied by another stunningly gorgeous Chinese girl, about Esmeray’s age or a bit younger, equally composed and meticulously dressed but with visibly less confidence than Hong, surprised them, slipping in between Penny and Chas and immediately helping to sort cards.  Behind the two newcomers, they saw Fang hugging and greeting the other demons.  Both girls shifted, obviously affected by the seductive, elegant perfection of Fang’s qahramanat.

“Excuse me?!” Esmeray bristled.

Ignoring her for a moment, Hong introduced her companion:  “This is my apprentice, Huifen.”  With a no-nonsense look at the two English girls, she clarified:  “You will address her as you would address Esmeray and I, and treat her with the same respect.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the girls answered nervously.

“My Domina heard about the wager and insisted we come immediately so she can add Huifen to the bet.”  Finally turning her attention back to Esmeray, she smiled patronizingly and explained:  “It is the great chain of knowledge.  As with all civilization, printing and cards were invented in China.  The Anxi and Tianzhu barbarians learned about cards from us, but were too stupid to understand the correct names of the suits, which are Chinese currency.  Ignorant of proper money, they confused the strings with clubs, the myriads with cups, and the tens of myriads with wands.  I suppose we should be grateful they were at least able to recognize the coins!”

Huifen laughed dutifully and convincingly, revealing her excellent training at the same time as her perfect teeth.  Her Arabic was as fluent as all of the other jawari:  “One out of four.  Not bad for barbarians, I suppose.”

“The Anxi and Tianzhu barbarians then threw the table-scraps remaining after they had tried to digest civilization to the Huanqian animal hides—” her nod towards Esmeray, outraging her, made it clear she was referring to Turks “—who degraded them further, before the gwailou savages—” with a gesture towards the girls, accepting half of Esmeray’s terminology for them “—picked up in amazement the dung deposited in front of them, all that remained of the great civilization, deposited behind the Huanqian.”

Hong looked inordinately pleased with herself for managing to offend everyone at the table besides herself and Huifen by making it clear the Turks and Europeans were regarded as not just barbarians, but second- and third-tier barbarians, respectively.

“If they’re so degraded, why do your masters use them?” Penny asked—almost, but not quite, pulling off a pretended innocent confusion.

Esmeray confessed, smothering a grin rather badly, but better than Chastity:  “Princess, I confess I’m not just shocked, but—for the first time yet—find myself actually delighted by your impertinence.”

Penny blushed and bowed her head, focusing intently on the cards, as Hong gave her a glance making it clear Hong was not delighted—if not, quite, entirely unimpressed.  “Doubtless that’s why they added the trigrams in.  They’re Taoist.  Chinese.  To make the suits recognizable to civilized people again.”  Hong attempted to keep Penny in her place, but spoiled that when she accidentally met Esmeray’s eyes and the two of them exchanged the slightest twitch of amusement.  “I too am astonished to hear such insolence from the limp rag doll of a third-rate barbarian tribe,” Hong confessed.  “Perhaps I should allow for a bit more from her than I’ve been expecting.  What’s gotten into her today?”

“I think she’s stinging.  Her Majesty has just now challenged her to prove it at cards if she has any scrap of courage or…” Esmeray frowned.

“‘Yang?’” Huifen suggested, with a judgmental glance at the girls.

“I suppose.”

“Perhaps she does,” Hong conceded.  “But the real test will be whether she can show her little horn—if she has one—in front of them.”  None of the humans doubted whom she meant.

“We’ll see.  Here—do you have a full set of the hearts yet?” Esmeray asked Chas, after enjoying Penny’s withering for only a second or two.

“I should think so,” Huifen answered.

“Why would there be more hearts?” Chas asked, baffled.

“Because they’re Channah’s suit.  Well—the suit of the Court of Lust.  Of course,” Esmeray frowned as if it were the most-obvious thing ever.

“Her suit?”  Chas asked, quickly recognizing a second problem “But why—and even if it were—you need all the suits to play cards, don’t you?”

Hong and Esmeray exchanged an odd look.  “Maybe,” Esmeray allowed, and then held her finger up to Penny the instant her mouth began to open.  “No!  We’re not starting that again!”

“The cards aren’t even numbered,” Chas admitted reluctantly.

“They certainly are.  Right by the suits.”  Huifen, seated closest to her, pointed.

“That’s not a number.  It’s the symbol for Mercury,” Penny protested, then frowned.  “Or quicksilver.  And I don’t even recognize this—pinwheel—”

“That’s Mara,” Hong and Esmeray answered as one.  With a slight bow, Hong deferred to Esmeray, who after all was the girls’ trainer, and Esmeray continued:  “They’re all numbers.  Mara is nought.  Mercury is Cinque.  Star is Set.  And so on.”

“That doesn’t make any sense—” Penny began, only to be stopped again when Esmeray held up her finger for silence and snapped:  “Accept!” before finding, and showing them, the complete set of 14 Hearts.

“Nought… Cinque…” Chas mumbled, as Huifen read them all out in order.

“I’ll just sort the Triumphs, shall I?”  Esmeray smirked.  “I presume you don’t know those numbers either?”

“No, Mistress,” Chas looked miserable.

“Think of them as Roman numerals.  I is 1 and S is 6.”

“This one—the ‘Fool’—doesn’t even have a number.  Just a dash,” Penny burst out, pointing to the Fool, before anybody could stop her.

“No, it doesn’t,” Esmeray smiled narrowly.  “It’s a wild card. But treat it as a 22.”

Penny, who did not like feeling stupid, struggled to keep her composure.  “A ‘wild’ card, Domina?”

“A card that, depending on the game, is given special powers.”

“We should probably teach them the basic rules so they don’t slow down the game,” Hong suggested, demonstrating as she spoke:  “It’s a trick-taking game.  The starter plays a card and everyone else has to follow suit—this example it’s spades.  And the highest-ranked spade played, wins the trick.  If a player doesn’t have a spade, but they have a triumph, they have to play it; and the highest trump wins the suit.”

“What if they don’t have a spade or a trump?”

“Then they have to play a card from another suit—even though it can’t possibly win,” Esmeray demonstrated by setting a wand on top of Hong’s spade.  “It’s called a throwaway.  At the end of the deal, everyone counts up their points.  One point per trick plus the value of the cards in their hands.  Face cards and Bouts—the Fool, the I, and the XXI of Triumphs—are worth points.  Nothing else.  The starter and the deal move left.”

Chas frowned.  “But surely the starter is the dealer?”

“Not in Perdition.  Because only humans can deal.”

“WHAT did you call it?!”  Penny asked, shocked.

“I think you heard me,” Hong laughed.  “But it’s just a name, silly.  Don’t start wringing your hands.  But the real fun of the game are—”

At that moment, there was another surge of noise near the door that distracted them all, as Kadidia and Judas entered, with retainers of their own crowding in behind them.

Channah, laughing, told Haruka, who was hovering in the doorway:  “Find your fellow gwailou and go secure yourselves in the honeycomb.  I’m going to seal the door again in five minutes, not a second longer!  And if any of you are still in the Lodge, you’ll regret it!”

“Yes, Domina!” Haruka shouted and bowed, before bolting from the room, already calling at the top of her lungs for the housecleaner.

Judas was clapping, looking pleased.  “I love it darling!  We’re to have all of Tlalitlen Ichtaka for our Lodge?”

Channah shrugged.  “Why not?  I certainly don’t want anyone else to come barging in here!”  Then she looked over at Esmeray, making an expression of mock-embarrassment:  “I don’t quite know how to say this, Esmeray dear, but I’m not quite sure I intended to invite this many people!  I hate to ask, but… you’re a bit of a nun, aren’t you?”

Esmeray looked at her quizzically.  “I’m not… sure… I’d describe myself that way, Your Majesty.  I—”

Channah and most of the other demons laughed—not to wound, to be sure; but not quite respectfully, either.  Esmeray, feeling the insult, stiffened and reddened slightly, as Channah clarified:  “I’m sorry dear, what I was trying to ask is—you don’t have any… lovers in the room, do you?”

Managing to keep her face almost blank, and continue conversing in a neutral, if slightly flat, tone, she answered:  “I prefer my own company, Your Majesty.”

“The girl has obviously never been entertained by me,” Judas rolled his eyes, provoking another wave of laughter among the succubae.

“You’re a lucky beast, aren’t you?” Húanglóng roared genially, grinning at Judas.  “I’ve thought it before, I can assure you.”

“Undoubtedly, Your Majesty,” Judas bowed toward the Dragon King, “For which I am eternally grateful.  But in what respect…”

Húanglóng laughed loudly.  “It’s all I can think about, and you take it for granted:  you’re outnumbered by a factor of what, 7-to-1, by females of your kind!  I love the camaraderie my Dragon brothers and I enjoy very much, but in matters of love…”

Their byplay was fortuitous, because it distracted everyone from Esmeray’s reaction to Judas’s boastful remark, which would not have flattered him.  Penny, observed only by Hong and Chas, reached her hand out towards Esmeray, hesitated, and then with utmost gentleness, patted her reassuringly like he was trying to soothe a baby having a nightmare without waking her up.  Even so, she tensed and glanced up sharply before nodding and relaxing again.  Penny’s hand was withdrawn before Channah, smiling, turned back towards them and continued addressing her:  “If you want to wait with the servants in the Honeycomb, you may.  But if you want to stay, it will have to be as part of a team.  So you’ll need to at least kiss someone—really kiss them—you could imagine settling into a long-term partnership or co-habitation with—”

Whereupon Esmeray, promptly but without hurrying, surprised Channah, the girls, everyone else, and quite possibly herself, by taking Chas and Penny by the hair and tugging them close enough to her to force her tongue inside each one’s mouth, just for a moment, and touch her lips to theirs, before pulling away, letting go of their hair, and looking at Channah with a combination of defiance and embarrassment while the girls stared at her in astonishment, exactly where she had left them.  While the demons laughed and made inappropriate—and to anyone who knew Esmeray, inapplicable—aren’t-they-mushy noises, Esmeray shrugged briefly and explained:  “Is that sufficient?  If I must choose my society to participate, they’re quite harmless.”

Channah applauded her with an intrigued, impressed look, and with sparkling, questioning eyes that promised future mischief to anyone who knew Channah.  “You could imagine a life with them?”

“If they’re respectful and make themselves useful, certainly.”

“But… what of affection?  Of sex?”

She thought carefully for a moment, before answering, with cold glances at each shocked, open-mouthed girl:  “Because of what they still have between their legs, I would enjoy their misery at being forced to accept their things are nothing but leftover, useless meat that will never defile a woman again.”

The room exploded with applause and whoops of acclimation.  “Bravo!”  “Hear hear!”

When Channah could speak, she allowed:  “Then in answer to your question, that’s enough… for now.”  Then, her eyes narrowing dangerously:  “And you could refrain from, say, killing your little ginger girl in a fit of… passion?”

A sharp color rose to Esmeray’s cheeks even as her eyebrows rose in startlement.  Stumbling a bit, she managed:  “Yes, of course, Your Majesty.  She—they—mean nothing to me.  They—we—are yours.”  Penny, wide-eyed and suspicious, watched the interchange, her eyes darting back and forth between them, knowing she was missing something, but not quite sure what it was.  With or without understanding, it was unsettling.

 “Hong my dear, Chastity is an experienced card player,” something in her tone managing to suggest the exact contrary of her own words.  “But I’m not sure Penny even knows what a card is.  Can you please make certain she knows how to shuffle before we start?  

“I will, Domina,” Hong bowed her head in acknowledgement; and then raised her eyes to make sure Channah had already moved her attention onto the humans who had arrived with Kadidia, instructing them to make sure everyone had plenty of wine and food.  Only when she was sure Channah was done with her did she speak quietly to Esmeray.  “I think we’d better assemble two decks, don’t you?”

“At least?” she answered uncertainly, pointing and counting heads around the table under her breath.

“As I was saying,” Hong resumed, commanding the girls’ attention, “the real fun comes in the rule changes and the stakes.  Here, look at this.”  She took some medium-sized cards no one was soting, straightened them up, and split them into two approximately-equal piles, taking each pile in one hand held by her thumb and her ring finger with her index fingers pushing down on the middle of each pile.  “See how I’m holding these?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Penny nodded.

“Shuffling is mixing up the cards so nobody knows what order they’re in.  You have to keep them face down like this at all times so no one—not you, not anyone else in the Lodge—can see any of the card faces while you shuffle them.  I shuffle like this.”  She demonstrated.  “Do you see?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I’m going to show you again,” she told her.  “Watch again.”

Huifen laughed, pressing her fingertips to her mouth as if she were trying to keep them closed.

“You try,” she handed the cards to Penny, who took them awkwardly and began trying to manage them with her hands. 

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow to Huifen, who explained:  “Penny’s going to be in trouble if they play Pretty Please.”

Hong smiled slyly, reaching forward to help Penny adjust her hands on the cards.  She felt Penny tense at her touch, and shift uncomfortably, aware of Hong’s gaze.  Only after a long moment did she finally dare to flutter up her azure eyes to meet Hong’s gaze.  “Huifen thinks you’re staring at my legs.”  Penny turned pink, as if the flap on a bullseye lantern had been pulled aside, and both women laughed at her discomfiture.  “That could get you in trouble in the game.  Best keep your eyes on the cards, jariya.”  But she didn’t adjust her dress or uncross her legs, leaving the high slit on her cheongsam open as it lay, revealing the long, graceful curve of her thigh and even the beginning of her hips, that had gotten little Penny into trouble.

As Penny practiced shuffling, trying to keep her eyes on what she was doing, Channah clapped her hands over hear head, all of them feeling a ripple of—something—passing them, and called loudly:  “The door is shut and the Lodge is WHAT?!” 

Grinning like fools, all the demons clapped their hands, triggering a much stronger wave that almost had the force of a gust of wind, roaring:  “Convened by the fiends!”

“Then let’s throw down!”  Channah completed the little ritual as the room erupted with applause.

Several people hollered:  “Let the cards fall as they may!”

Húanglóng snorted:  “And all you losers get ready to pay!” earning a round of groans and boos as Channah began loudly counting off the players: 

“Húanglóng and I have to play, because we already have a bet—it’s the whole reason for this game!  And obviously, Fang, Judas, and Kadidia must play, since I accidentally sort-of invited them to do so.  Needless to say, my cherished ladies must have seats because they brought Húanglóng and started this whole party!  Which means, since it would be rude to leave an odd demon out, it practically goes without saying Tifaret shall make our eighth!”

The demons all burst out laughing, and Hong—also in on the joke, whatever it was—smirked, meeting her companions’ confused eyes before landing her gaze on Penny’s worried one.  Hong laughed, briefly, quietly, and just a bit nastily, nodding at Penny to confirm what she suspected.

“Oh dear, that won’t work at all, will it?” Channah lamented, looking concerned.  “Tifaret, dear… is there any chance you have any lovers at the table?”  The demons and Hong all laughed again.  “Soooo…. Let’s see.  Kadidia, Judas, and Fang were all thoughtful enough to bring their lovers with them.  And my daaaaahling Húanglóng has had the cheek to challenge me for my jawari, so he doesn’t get any teammates.”

Everyone roared as Húanglóng admitted, his voice distorted by a tube in his lips which extended from a gold bulb carved with pornographic images of serpents fornicating with humanoids that caused even Chas’s jaw to drop, let alone Penny’s:  “She has a point.  And I am confident I will be taking most of your lovers home with me—” everyone razzed him back at the challenge “—so you can play cards with them now, and tonight I’ll play with them however I please.” 

The game hadn’t even started yet and it was obvious from the frequency of their drinks and that  the newcomers were all making heroic progress catching up with their host’s honeymoon party.  Nor did anyone from the honeymoon party seem to be slowing down except Esmeray and Penny.  Everyone else was, if anything, speeding up.

“Oh you have to lose, you bastard!” Channah planted a sloppy kiss on him before continuing:  “Ooh light one for me, honey?  Rivqah and M—”

“Jacob!” Rivqah shouted, leaning close to the King, piling what looked like stems and leaves into a gold bowl that the Dragon King seemed to set alight with a touch of his fingers, before attaching it to a lid with a similar tube to create a bulbed device similar to the King’s.

“Big George!” Miriam shouted at the same time.

Tifaret tried and failed to look offended as she stood up and began walking around toward Channah.

“My dear, you do look a bit familiar.  Have we fucked?”  Channah asked, as Tifaret bent over her, holding her head a bit impertinently, and made out with her for a moment.

“You and every other player, dahling,” Tifaret drawled, sitting down immediately behind Channah and reaching around her to stroke her nipples through her dress, diverting one hand to hijack the gold dragon bong meant for Channah.

“Jacob!” Rivqah called, snapping her finger peremptorily and gesturing behind her as she nodded at Tifaret.  “Mind Tifaret closely, get over here, and follow her excellent example!”

“George!” Miriam cried, pronouncing it “Jo-warj!”, raising her arm and pointing behind her.  “You heard her!”

Everyone not already seated at the table began moving behind their players except the suddenly-isolated Esmeray and her jawari.  “Shit!” Chas cursed under her breath, realizing what Penny and Esmeray had already figured out.

Purring from Tifaret’s attentions, Channah mock-gasped:  “Look there!  We have an empty seat!  And a good thing, too, because we need a dealer, don’t we?”

“So forgetful lovahgirl,” Tifaret nuzzled the back of her neck. 

Penny drew a deep breath, set her jaw, and rose, heading grimly toward the table, her nostrils twitching as she caught the faint tendrils of the incense rising from the gold bulbs being passed around the table.  It was at once floral, faintly sweet, smoky, and rancid.  The others, as they caught sight of her approaching before being called, whooped and clapped.

Judas mocked:  “She’s as cocky as a rooster!  And here you led me to believe she was meek and mild and knew her place!”

“I’m sure it’s the wine,” Channah suggested.  “You’re not the only human here, Princess.  What makes you think that seat is for you?”

Penny paused behind the empty spot, Fang to her left and Kadidia to her right, without answering or even looking at Channah, and the entire table erupted again.  Hong briefly and quietly placed her hand on Penny’s back, surprising her, imitating the gesture she had seen Penny give Esmeray before.

“Oh, of course it’s your place, sweetie—stop pouting and sit!” Channah gestured for her to sit.  “You should be honored!  Your qahramanah could have kissed anyone here and I’m sure they would have let her, but she chose you!”

“I am grateful,” Penny responded honestly.  “And I’m sorry, qahramanah—”

“I knew what I was doing,” Esmeray answered her quietly, sitting down on one of the benches behind Penny.  “You’re my jawari.  I’m your qahramanah.  Who else was I going to pick?”

“And Chas honey, I could pretend I was about to offer you a choice—” Channah paused until the ripple of laughter quieted back down “—but first of all, somebody has to add some cheer to that… pocket of dourness—” she gestured at Esmeray and Penny “and second, you brought Penny kicking and screaming into this game, so you kind of owe it to her to stick with her and help her,” Channah pointed out, as Penny regarded her sister in accusing agreement and Chas looked stricken.

“I’m sorry, Penny.  It seemed like such a fun idea!” Chastity apologized. 

“It always does,” Miriam agreed.

“I really thought you’d enjoy it…” Chas continued.

“We’ve all been there!” Judas shook his head ruefully, provoking more laughter.

Literature Section “07-38B Dicing with Demons:  Convened by the Fiends”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 38 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4970 words—Accompanying Images:  2230-2232, 2234-2236—Published 2025-09-15—©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.

2208 07-37 “To Serve Man?” (gwailou Sakura-Haruka-Asuka)
2209 07-37 Tiferet arriving in Paradise
2210 07-37 The Hostess and Her Obedient Pets (Chastity-Channah-Penance)
2211 07-37 Reflecting and preparing
2212 07-37 Look what we found!  Your hubby!
2213 07-37 He’s so cute!  Can we entertain him for you?
2214 07-37 Riding the Yellow Dragon
2215 07-37 Miriam-Húanglóng-Rivqah
2216 07-37 Artist (Tiferet) and curious skeptic (Esmeray)
2217 07-37 Esmeray’s heavy burdens
2218 07-37 Big George and Jacob make it look easy
2219 07-37 Jacob, Big George, and their big load
2220 07-37 Supplying Paradise
2221 07-37 more of Channah’s gwailou stocking paradise before the honeymooners arrive

(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.

2176 07-35 Behold the Power of the Dragon King
2177 07-35 Unchallenged–The Better Man
2178 07-35 The Hellish Power Behind the Earthly Throne
2179 07-35 The Dragon King’s Unspoken Challenge
2180 07-35 Will You Challenge the Dragon King or Submit to Him?
2181 07-35 Go on, cuck
2182 07-35 Clear-sighted
2183 07-35 Their Rightful Place.  Their Natural Level.
2184 07-35 What do you imagine is going to happen here, cuck?
2185 07-35 But only if you admit it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of
2186 07-35 Even worms have a place.  This is yours

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

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, and forcing her two brides to help cook breakfast for the lovers upstairs.  NOW:

On their own honeymoon, the girls cooked and assisted with other chores for about an hour enduring the loud cries and moans from above them that proved conclusively Miriam and Rivqah had been right to bring real men for their Domina to celebrate with, before Haruka finally dismissed the girls into Esmeray’s care.  At this point they had helped her make coffee, pour cream, pile dates on plates for sweetening the coffee, set the dinner table, chopped vegetables and cold meats, steamed rice, and warmed bread, listening carefully as she explained exactly how to prepare each item and ingredient the way Channah liked it, and enduring her harsh criticisms and corrections of them every time they made a mistake. 

Now she relaxed on a stool beside the kamado—the traditional Japanese oven in Channah’s Mesoamerican hacienda that, Haruka had explained, reflected their Domina’s preference for the meticulousness and rigidity of Japanese aesthetics in her home—idly bobbing one foot, at first casually and then with more deliberation as she noticed Penny’s stare, frowning with concentration like a cat experimenting with a mouse.  She slowly sipped her own coffee, enjoying watching as Esmeray bound their wrists, hobbled their ankles, leashed them, piled their trays with food and drink and utensils, and led them away to and awkwardly up the stairs, forced by their bonds to balance their trays on their forearms while desperately clinging to the outer edges with their shackled hands.

Esmeray turned off the stairs on the second floor, which the girls had never explored before, and led them to two unfamiliar but well-appointed rooms.  The first, on the right, overlooking parts of the garden they had never seen before, and the rain forest under the cliffs, was the parlor.  It was dominated by curved tables arranged in a ring with curved sofas just outside them, and four giant multi-pipe hookahs spaced around the circle.  The other, the saloon or celebration room, on the left—which was occupied now—overlooked the garden, the springs, the gazebo, and the great valley beyond them.  It contained broad divans arranged around the perimeter of the room with a large area comprising, essentially, an oversized bed formed by divans that had been pushed together in the corner immediately to the right of the entrance.  All the divans in the corner were flat.  The other divans, and a number of chairs,that were scattered elsewhere around the room offered a variety of intriguing and unique shapes for playing on, and were piled with pillows of every shape, size, and firmness.  Tiferet sat on a chair near the middle of the room behind an easel with paints, brushes, and pots of water set on two low tables to either side of her, painting swiftly and intently, while Esmeray sat on a stool beside and slightly behind her, watching in fascination over her shoulder.  Their chairs were facing the divans in the corner where the six lovers relaxed, eyes closed, naked and entangled in postcoital bliss:  Channah and Húanglóng lying sideways with Channah’s head resting on Húanglóng’s soft, fat stomach; Rivqah spooning Jacob with her hand holding his member; and Miriam curled against George’s side with her head on his arm, running her fingers idly over his chest.  Only Tiferet and Esmeray were still dressed; on the bed, the celebrants had cast aside all their clothing and shoes, and a large portion of their gold jewelry.  As best the girls could tell, their decisions about what jewelry to leave on, and what to take off, were completely arbitrary.  If there was any rhyme or reason to the selections, it eluded them.

After the girls had served everyone else coffee and breakfast, Channah sent them back downstairs for spiked wine and spirits.  Upon their return, Channah made them stand just in front of the divans and fill two goblets apiece with a blend of spiked wine and clear spirits, then choke down the nauseating stuff while everyone watched and cheered them on with laughter.  Miriam and Rivqah then instructed them to fill a large, deep bowl on the floor with a mixture of white spirits, mint, and water, and finally to serve all the lovers and their qahramanah with spiked wine.  Channah, laughing, made Penny bring her one of the wine bottles and held Penny face-up on her lap while she poured more wine down her throat, while Rivqah and Miriam did the same to Chastity.

Finally, Channah commanded them both to crawl before Húanglóng, who was now sitting on the edge of the group of divans, drinking wine, while Channah sat behind him with her head on his shoulders and her arms as far around his chest as she could reach.  “You missed my weddings, beloved,” Channah reminded Húanglóng, immediately provoking Rivqah and Miriam to laugh:  “uh-oh!” “Oh no!” as if someone had done something wrong.

Húanglóng shrugged.  “What man can keep up with the weddings of such a healthy, lusty succubus?” causing everyone else to laugh while Chastity and Penny looked nervous.  Noticing, Húanglóng pointed to the ground at his feet, commanding them:  “Don’t be shy.  Crawl closer, let’s see my wife’s homet-nuswut.”  The phrase was ancient Egyptian, and was another way of expressing their status as Channah’s lesser, secondary partners, compared with Channah’s and Húanglóng’s status as primary partners to one another.

As they hurried over on their knees, provoking laughter from the others, Channah admonished them:  “I know I don’t have to tell you girls to treat my First Husband as you would me, your god where I am your goddess, do I?”

“No, Domina,” they assured her, looking scared, aware the atmosphere in the room had changed and everyone else was now watching them intently with a sharpened interest the girls didn’t understand.  At least some of their uncertainty was reflected in the eyes of George and Esmeray, but at least those two had the instinctive comfort of knowing whatever was happening, didn’t involve them.  But everyone else in the room seemed to be in on it, whatever ‘it’ was.

“Stay on your knees.  But put your heads on the floor with your arms stretched out under the bed in front of you,” Húanglóng ordered them, calmly and with a sense of self-possession, “and turn your heads to the sides, away from one another.  I want each of you focused on me now, not distracting one another.”

The girls obeyed, and next felt the Emperor’s large, heavy feet descending to rest on their heads, pressing them down uncomfortably into the stone floor as he relaxed and allowed their weight to rest on the girls’ skulls.  With their shackled wrists in front of them, the Emperor’s posture allowed him an easy and—for them—humiliating way to keep them under his control.

“You married my wife,” he stated, gruffly and bluntly.  They heard Channah make a noise somewhere between a growl and an approving moan behind him.  “But you didn’t even so much as ask my permission first, did you?” 

“No, Master,” they responded in unison, knowing he would be displeased with their angle..  “I’m sorry, Mast—”

“Hush!  You’ll have a chance to show how sorry you are in a minute, and possibly all day.”  The celebrants on the bed all made warning calls and hoots of anticipation, while Penny’s half-squished face (Chastity’s was invisible to the group, facing the wall) just looked more anxious and worried, provoking secondary laughter.  “Right now, you listen to me and you answer me.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.” 

“From now on, you will address me as ‘First Husband,’ although when you’re serving me sexually—”

Miriam laughed:  “I wish you could see the panic in this little girl’s face!”

He acknowledged the comment with a slight, momentary grin, continuing “You should call me ‘Daddy,’” he decided, rolling the balls and heels of his feet over their temples and cheeks, perhaps because it felt pleasant to him or perhaps simply to reinforce their helpless subservience before him.  Then he responded to Miriam:  “When you marry a married woman, you marry her husband as well,” he pointed out reasonably.  “If they didn’t want to be both our playthings, they shouldn’t have married us, should they?”  And then, pushing down a little harder and squishing the girls’ faces a bit more, he emphasized:  “Especially without asking me first.  Should you?”

“No, First Husband!” they yelped.

“But you chose to marry us, anyway, and now you are bound to us as our ceshi or shu-wives.  Do you deserve my wrath, wretched girls?”

“Yes, First Husband,” they quavered fearfully.

“You certainly do.  But fortunately for you, I am a very tolerant and forgiving master.”  Sliding his feet from the tops of their heads to rest immediately in front of each girl’s face, he pressed the soles of his feet into their faces, speaking soothingly.  “Breathe, chattel.  Be calm and breathe.”

They obeyed—they could scarcely do otherwise, in their positions—but he emphasized:  “Deeper.  Breathe deeper!  I want to hear it!  I want to know you’re breathing in, deeply and calmly, breathing me into you….” And as they practically hyperventilated, everyone in the room could hear, and enjoy.  “That’s the way… Even in this plane, in this borrowed body, my body is at peace, and brings others to peace with me.  Are you starting to feel docile and calm, now, in my presence?”

“Yes, First Husband,” they answered, Penny’s response tinged with the faintest hint of surprise.

“Good girls.  Roll over onto your backs,” he commanded, lifting his legs while they scrambled to obey.  “Keep your hands above your heads!”  he reminded them; and as soon as they were in position, he settled his feet back onto them, this time right on their faces, pressing down.  “Breathe and worship me.  Go on!  Kiss my feet and clean them.  Get your tongues out!  Good girls…” They heard applause, and claps of approval, but no longer cared.  Or rather, they cared only whether their actions pleased Him, and their Domina.

“That’s so hot,” Channah moaned, scrambling around her husband to sit on his lap, facing him, and kiss him.  “I never get tired of seeing it.  Or of envying it.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 He roared with laughter.  “Look who’s talking.  Mmm…” he paused to kiss his wife back.  “You brought them to me already caged and humiliated and pledged to your service, did you not?  I’ve yet to meet the succubus who couldn’t domesticate an animal on sight.”

“But it’s so… effortless for you!” she protested, gnawing affectionately on his lip before pushing her tongue back against his.

After a moment he protested—his grin making his protestation unconvincing:  “Sitting on my thighs, you’re making it much harder for our little wives to show their respect!”

“Good!” she murmured huskily, pressing herself up against his hardening member and bouncing on his thighs to send concussive shocks down his legs into her chattels’ faces.

“I’ll bet it’s every bit as good for them,” Miriam added wryly.  “They know where they belong now.  And it’s probably what they need, they’re such compliant little girls.”

Tearing herself away with a sigh, Channah backed off the bed and squatted down between her wives, feeling them, and crowed with delight, provoking laughter from her companions:  “‘They shall lick the dust like a serpent.’  And they are most definitely trying to ‘move out of their holes like worms.’”

“So, Jacob,” Húanglóng snickered, rubbing his feet across his playthings’ eager tongues and lips, unable to completely conceal the enjoyment he felt from such an easy demonstration of his power, protracting it with casual conversation.  “We have met before?”

Channah snorted, “Boaster,” as she rose back to her feet, idly kicking Penny’s little scrotum and watching her flinch and whine without pausing for one second in her devotions.  “Incredible,” she hissed with disgust, shaking her head and going to the table where the girls had set the liquor, picking up a bottle of wine and offering refills to her companions.

“Come now, surely our girls should have a moment to acclimate to their new station before we put them back to work,” Húanglóng suggested loftily, as if he were doing them a favor, with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Jacob answered.  “I have had the honor of meeting you in Lytos, at your Palace of Indolence, upon the occasions of several anniversaries.”  Channah’s and Húanglóng’s anniversary celebrations, held in Lytos primarily to make it likely he and the other dragon participants would show up, was one of the few occasions when demons from different hells interacted other than through political embassies.  And although the guests were only dragons and succubae, the uniqueness of the event made it legendary in hell.

The Dragon King looked pleased.  “Ah, yes, I remember you now.  You enjoy chasing the dragon?”

“Everyone enjoys chasing the dragons, Master,” Jacob allowed.

“Ha ha, good answer!  As everyone dreams of being visited by the succubae.  I can see why you are invited, of course!”

“Not my conversational skills, I’m afraid, Your Majesty,” he admitted with a faint undertone that was difficult to place, but sounded almost ugly and hard.

Húanglóng raised an eyebrow, but didn’t care to pursue it, asking instead:  “You’re a cambion?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, the son of the succubus Michal.”

“Of course,” he nodded, turning to George.  “And you?  You seem—new to me?”

“We have never met before, Your Majesty,” George responded.  “I am George Manning, th-the carpenter at Duchess—er, Queen Channah’s Fensmere estate in Cambridge.”

Húanglóng’s eyes narrowed.  “But surely, if your life and soul are safe from the succubae, you can’t be fully human?”

George looked surprised.  “Yes, Your Majesty—I am!  Or… I thought I was…”

“Hmm… also not invited for your conversational skills.”

“Your Majesty?” George asked uncertainly.  “It—it’s an honor to have been invited—”

“Oh, dear.”

Channah, back by the sideboard, further fortifying the spiked wine by pouring what was left from the bottle she had used to refill everyone’s glasses into a flagon with a couple of fingers of spirits left in it, snorted and exchanged a wry glance with Esmeray before interjecting:  “He’s the son of one of my very brightest operatives.”

“Really?” Húanglóng asked drily.

“Really.  The woman who tutored the two, I can assure you, very-well-educated girls licking the dust and shit from the soles of your feet at this very moment, darling.”

“Really?” he looked surprised.

“Really, darling,” she assured him.  “We all thought he was human, but George darling, tell him what happened to you when our whorish little Penny got you overexcited?”

“I, er—” George blushed.  “Turned green.”

“More than just that, darling.  He revealed himself as a dragon cambion.  He might even be one of your great-something-grandsons.”

“Really?!” Húanglóng grinned, now interested and approving, clapping George on the shoulder.  “Good lad!  And I see you take after me in some ways!”

“I do?”

“Eh—in the ways that got you invited to this party!”

“Duchess Miriam said I would make a nice surprise for Her Majesty the Queen,” George admitted proudly.

“And you will!” Húanglóng encouraged him, patting him on the back reassuringly.  And, seeing he was still not following:  “We’re talking about the size of your cock, son!  You’re a big chip off the old block.  Succubae like a bit of demon cock now and again.  Nobody likes to fuck where they eat all the time.  Sometimes they like to focus on their own experience and just let go, instead of worrying about managing and corralling and consuming prey.”

“Oh,” George answered, turning red, politely continuing:  “Thank you for explaining, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t fret,” Jacob interjected tightly.  “You’ll get used to it.”

“Oh, I’ve always known my cock was—different,” George replied earnestly, forcing Jacob—who clearly knew his own place in the pecking order all too well—to look away until he could control his expression of derision. 

“I’m sure you do, son,” Húanglóng exchanged a wicked look with Channah, but managed to suppress his reaction better than either Jacob or Channah, who was snickering as she moved back over to Penny, squatting down to rest on her metal cage, the burning warmth of her fireplace surely as obvious to her toy girl as the pressure she was exerting. 

Sliding back and forth to tease the girl, and herself, she snapped:  “Toes!” as she began purring and dripping the doubly-spiked wine onto Húanglóng’s toes so it rolled over and off them onto Penny’s worshipful tongue and into Penny’s adoring mouth.  Penny, for her part, made Channah’s experience perfect by obeying her, choking and sputtering in shock at the strength of the brew, without interrupting her assigned task.  “My love, as much as it may irritate me how easily seduction and domination come to you, I’m most grateful you have such a way of shutting up my little Meoto here.”  Then she switched to her baby-talk voice:  “That’s the way, little Meoto, shut up and drink up for Mommy, while you please your Daddy.”

“‘Meoto’?!” Húanglóng asked.  “That’s… Korean?”

“Japanese.  For effeminate chatterbox.”

“It’s very funny.”

“Particularly because it fits her to a ‘T-girl,’” Channah assured him.  “A bigger blabbermouth you have never met.  And yes, I mean including Lucifer!”

Húanglóng raised an eyebrow skeptically, then looked back down at Penance’s nearly-naked body under his foot, serving him.  “Are you really a little blabbermouth, footsucker?”

Penny nodded earnestly, by now so far under the spell of Húanglóng’s powerful pheromones she could no more lie than disobey the dragon, or conceal her feelings from him.  “Yesh, First Husbnd.”

“Don’t you think we’re past ‘First Husband’ by now, Meoto?  You’ve been making out with my foot there for about five minutes now, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more passionately in love with my foot.  And that’s saying something.” 

Channah smirked:  “My girl has a bit of a thing for feet, darling.  Among her other… many… delicious little quirks.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Penny agreed enthusiastically, as oblivious to the laughter all around her as any audience member tricked into participating by a stage hypnotist might be.  “You’re right.  This is soooo sexy!  I love your big, strong, hard foot, Daddy.” 

“Yeah?  What do you like best about it?”

“It’s amazing,” she gushed.  “I’ve never been so turned on by a man’s foot before.  I don’t know if it’s the weight of it, Daddy,” Penny began babbling, slurring and pausing her words around the kisses and licks and sucks she was applying to every surface of Húanglóng’s foot she could possibly get her mouth on.  “The weight of it, which reminds me how big and strong you are; or the hardness of it, which reminds me of how masculine you are.  Or the smell of it, which is like…  I don’t even know what it’s like, Daddy; but it’s—it’s earthy and musky and sexy and—”

“Whoa!  You are a little chatterbox, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Oh, you’re not sorry yet, but you will be, when I punish you for marrying my wife without my permission.”

“I’m—I’m really sorry, Daddy,” Penance admitted, suddenly her voice sounding contrite and wavering, almost as if she were about to cry.  “I’m so sorry!”

“I’m sorry too, Daddy!” Chastity burst out, unable to stop herself.  “We respect you so much, Daddy!”  Chastity exclaimed.

“So much!”  Penny agreed.

“This pathetic display is better than any theater!” Jacob snarked, expressing what many of those watching were feeling and triggering a ripple of laughter throughout the room.

“Humans!”

“Livestock!”

And the ultimate put-down:  “Prey!”

“Which… actually… makes me wonder…” he looked around the room until he found who he was looking for and called her:  “Is it—Esmeray?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she conceded, looking concerned.

“Come over here and sit by me.”  He patted the bed just next to him.

Obediently, but without being able to fully conceal her reluctance, she rose and made her way over to him, trying to sit a foot or two away from him and stiffening to a porcelain rigidity when she felt his broad hand on her hip, effortlessly pulling her tight into his side, as he frowned in wonder.  Even punch-drunk-love-drunk Penny and Chas would have sensed Esmeray’s fundamental discomfort and hostility if they could have seen or sensed anything beyond their master’s feet, or been able to conceive of resisting him.  As it was, Esmeray’s strong reaction produced a ripple through the room, all of the succubae and their cambion immediately aroused with the narcotic-potent combination of their predatorial and sexual instincts her conflicted behavior aroused in them.

Esmeray felt her rage and resentment spiking and spiraling out of her control, trying her hardest to use the tricks she had taught herself over the years to maintain her calm despite her urge to lash out at him for ignoring her body language, her very identity and volition, so completely, a feeling she could only barely contain when it finally clicked with her that, far from being oblivious to her feelings—the usual problem with humans and demons alike—he was completely focused on them, and fascinated by them.  Only that belated realization enabled her to accept it when he rested his hand over her nose and mouth.

“Be careful, darling,” Channah warned him.  “She’s a powder keg.  More of a volcano, really.”

“Oh, I can tell,” he nodded, clearly riveted by what he was seeing.  “You’re… immune to me!  To us—”

“To all demons.  And humans.”  She laughed:  “And even pets, as far as I can tell, Sire,” Channah purred, still amusing herself on pathetic Penny’s body.

“This is incredible,” he wondered, meeting Esmeray’s angry, resentful, nearly-panicked eyes over the top of his hand, and suddenly, really recognizing how agitated a state she was in.

Hastily dropping his hands from her and raising them placatingly, he apologized smoothly.  “I’m so sorry my dear… this is such a rare thing… and you’re an extreme case.”

“It’s all right, Your Majesty,” she forced herself to say, no one listening to her likely to believe she actually felt that way—not least because of how the moment the Dragon King released her, she popped up to her feet and moved back from him, regarding him as one might regard, well… a dangerous serpent.

“Does it surprise you, the reaction I produce in most hucows?”  He asked, gesturing at the two adoring girls happy to be under his feet.

“Those two… weakling little perverts?  Not as much as it would with normal huco—people,” she huffed, trying to breathe more slowly and deeply to calm herself.  “But… yes.”  And she managed to pack all he scorn of the world into that one single word.  “Do they—’we,’ I suppose—all act like that around you?!” she asked, incredulously.

“Pretty much,” the Dragon King shrugged, indicating it was nothing; simply another day in his world.  “All of them except for you.  You’re quite… disagreeable.  But I apologize for causing you stress nonetheless.  I don’t like causing stress.  I normally don’t.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Esmeray curtsied slightly, trying to express what she felt, which was that she actually appreciated what he was saying.  It was a different kind of magic, the oldest in the world:  simple courtesy and respect.  But not something she had learned to expect from either humans or demons.  Shrugging again, the Dragon King continued:  “I prefer… getting along with people, the way I usually do.”  Then, looking down at his feet, his voice dripping with contempt, especially at the contrast their behavior made with Esmeray, he asked:  “Do you ‘girls’ even remember what it felt like to want to be a man?”

“Oh, yes, Daddy!”  Penny assured him.  “I want to be a man now!”  And then, sounding despondent, heedless again of the roars of laughter from around her:  “It’s still inside me always.  I wish so much I could be a man and I’m so ashamed to be a little girl!”

“Every minute?” he asked, his eyes lighting a bit at the thought.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Every second of every day!”  Chastity cried out her pain.  “I like being a girl, a lot!  Not like Penny.  But at the same time I—I’m confused—I don’t know, I was supposed to be—maybe I am supposed to be a man—I wish I could just be a girl and be happy about it!”

 “I’m not!  I’d give anything to be a man!  A big, powerful, sexy man women want and love.  Just like you!”  Penny moaned, licking and sucking furiously, practically losing herself in the act.  “But I’m not what I want to be!    I’m just not!  I didn’t—I don’t want to be a girl.  But I just am!  A weak girl.  I can’t help it!  I’ve never been any good as a boy, I was never allowed—never deserved—to have my breeching ceremony, and all I can think about are women and how much I wish I could make love to them!  But I can’t even get hard any more from normal sex.”

“You’ve never had ‘normal’ sex in your life,” Channah mocked her contemptuously, cutting her down as easily as a scythe sweeping through a field of flimsy wheat stalks.

“I mean—I mean to say—I’m so embarrassed, Domina!  I mean…” she whispered, not wanting anyone else to hear, maybe not even wanting to hear it herself:  “From touching myself.”

“You’ve touched yourself?!  Like Onan?!”  Channah roared accusingly, well aware she was leading a performance for the entertainment and arousal of her guests.

“In the dark, in my bed—yes, Domina.  I’m so—I used to be so horny, thinking about women and their bodies, their hips, their bottoms, their legs, their feet—”

“And you can’t get hard anymore, can you?”

“Not—like that.  Never when I’m in my cage.  And now I—since you began training me—it seems I can only orgasm like a girl, when I’m on the bottom—”


“The receiving partner?”  Channah suggested.

“Yes, Domina,” she whispered, covering her own eyes in shame without pausing in her ministrations to the Dragon King’s feet.

“Pathetic!” Channah spat, almost literally, touching herself with her free hand and hissing as if she’d touched fire.

“I know!” Penny started crying, without slowing down, grunting as Channah stepped on her cage and observed: 

“Don’t lie to me, Penance.  Don’t lie to your Daddy.  I can feel how much you like being a girl.”  She emphasized her words with more-aggressive, presumably quite painful, jabs and rolls and tugs on Penance’s little cage.

“I don’t, Domina, I’m sorry!  I don’t!”

“Then why is your little clitty so hard?”

“It’s so awful!  I—I can’t possibly say, Domina!  Please don’t make me say it!”  And then she whispered:  “I don’t even want to hear it!”

“Oh-ho-ho, but I do.  And I’m what matters, aren’t I, Meoto?”

“Yes, Domina, you’re all that matters.  You and Daddy—”

“Tell me!” She demanded, working her toe in between her cheeks and up towards her little girl’s hole.

“I—I feel like… It’s hard to say it, exactly… I don’t even understand it!”  She wept.  “How can I explain it?”

“Just do your best, sugar bear.  Trust us.  Well—trust our experience.  There’s very little we haven’t seen before and even less we don’t understand.  Go on,” she encouraged her girl with her probing, teasing toe and her taunting tone of voice, finally getting what she wanted.

It came out as the quietest whisper:  “I’m—I know I’m such a lowly worm, lower than dirt, it’s such a relief to just—to just be what I am I don’t know…”

But they most definitely did.  The room roared and reverberated with cruel laughter as the vulnerable girl’s deepest and most-shameful truths came out.

“I told you you were a shit-eater, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Domina, but I didn’t understand it—”

“Do you understand now?”

“I don’t—maybe!” she howled in pain, before dissolving into sobs.  “It’s so unnatural—I can’t—it can’t be that—I don’t understand…!”  She bawled.

“But you’re beginning to,” Channah diagnosed her condition with a spiteful, liberating delight.  “Don’t worry, my little Pleaser.  We’re going to explore this in depth.”

“Sooo much depth!”  Rivqah whooped delightedly.

Channah, barely able to contain her smile enough to keep talking, assured Peny:  “You’re going to earn your name even better now, Pleaser, now that I can see better what I’m aiming it.  I’m going to drag you through your misery and shit until you look like a muddy golem under my feet!  It turns you on to be able to finally give up all that exhausting, hopeless, ineffective pride and hope and craving to be something more than you are, something you’re absolutely not, and just admit to us—show us—what a worm you are, doesn’t it?”

“I think so, maybe—Domina!  I’m not sure—”

“Oh, I am,” she laughed richly.  “And the better I understand you, the better I can tear you apart, sweetheart.  Thank you for this key.  Admitting who and what you are—to us, maybe even to yourself because only by admitting it to us, are you forced to face it yourself?—Doing that is what makes you happy because you can actually be yourself for once!  What a relief that must be!”

“Oh, it is, Domina, it is!  But it’s also—terrible—”

“It certainly is mortifying and, I’m sure, painful and humiliating.  As it ought to be.  Especially when you’re surrounded by big, real men like my First Husband and other fuck buddies here.  But you just can’t help who you are, sweetie,” she mock-comforted her girl, reaching back to wrench her tiny scrotum painfully with one hand, as she put her other hand on her neck in a chokehold, demonstrating her mastery of her slave physically as well as mentally.  “And nothing feels better than being who you really are, baby…” she cooed encouragingly, shivering with arousal.  “Even though you fucking hate it, don’t you?  I bet you’d give anything to be different—to be a man!”

“I do!  I do so!” Penny bawled.  I wish I could be like Daddy instead of like me.”

“Well… admit that to your Daddy, bitch.  You’ll feel better.  We’ll all feel better,” she chortled.

“Yes, Domina.  Oh, Daddy, truly, I wish I could be like you—I wish I could be you, instead of me!” 

Chastity wailed, starting her own waterworks:  “Me too!  YOU’RE a man my lord!  You’re the real thing!  I know I’m supposed to be like you, but I want to be a girl!  I’ve always wanted to be a girl, for as long as I can remember!  Ohh!  I can never face my father again.  Or my brothers!  Not even my own mother!”

“I can’t even face myself!”  Penny bawled.  “I have to try sooo hard to remember I’m a girl and to act like I’m a girl and to accept my place as a girl and put up with so many pawing men who want to play with my body, especially now that it’s a girl’s body, when all I wish is that I’d been born with the spirit of a man!  My hate my penis!  I mean I love my penis but—but—but all it does now is remind me of what I’m supposed to be, and what a failure I am!  Oh how I wish I could be like you!”

“Wait—now you think you can even compare yourself to me, little pussy?!” Húanglóng asked, sounding surprised but doing nothing to conceal the amusement and contempt he felt. 

“I’m sorry!  I apologize, Daddy!”

“Because you know you’re not a man, as disgraceful as that is?  Is that right?”

“That’s right, Daddy,” Penny confessed, as both girls kept weeping and worshiping and working on pleasing their Master.

“Chastity, I understand,” Húanglóng allowed.

“Oh, thank you, Daddy!” Chastity gushed.  “Thank you for understanding and tolerating me!”

“Shut up and stand up in front of me!” Húanglóng barked.  “Penny, don’t you dare move or interrupt what you’re doing!”  And the moment Chastity was on her feet in front of the Dragon, he grabbed her arm and yanked her across his left knee, pushing her neck down with his left hand and trapping her legs under his right knee before spanking her furiously, a staccato series of blows from his mighty hand that immediately reactivated all her bruised, oversensitized flesh and sent her into tears of pain, multiplying her misery and humiliation.  “Dear,” Húanglóng smirked at his First Royal Wife calmly, not even breathing heavily, and without slowing down the motion of his hand.  “I’m impressed.  You’ve made mincemeat of these girls’ bottoms, haven’t you?”

“I surely have,” she admitted, guffawing with the rest of the room.

“They’re so blue!  How weak they are, to have accepted that.  I can’t imagine how you thought you could endure a week out here alone with them for company!”

“Honestly—now—I don’t either,” she admitted, standing and playing with herself, leaning forward over Chastity to make out briefly with her husband while their little side-piece took her spanking below them.  “I should have known better.  Fuck I’m so wet right now!” she admitted, straightening up and stepping back, teasing herself with one finger as she looked back and forth between one crying horny girl desperately worshiping her Master’s foot, and the other one helplessly being spanked like a two-year-old.  “Wow.”  She shook her head, appreciative and a little appalled.  “Thank you for intervening on my behalf to save me from… this freak show, girlfriends!”

“That’s what friends are for!” Rivqah laughed. 

Literature Section “07-35 BULLying Cucks for Kicks”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 35 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—5616 words—Accompanying Images:  2176-2186—Published 2025-08-26—©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.                                     

1558 06-51 Raise the red flag! NO QUARTER!!!^
1559 06-51 Murder the prisoners. Every. Single. One.^
1560 06-51 My treacherous hand has drawn my own blood!^
1561 06-51 My sword and honor are stained by the blood I have drawn^

She shook her head, horrified and awed by her own evil.  “I did that.”  And then, again:  “I did that.”  There was a long silence, Channah lost in her thoughts, the girls too shocked and appalled and even sympathetic to who she had become now, all at once, to say anything.

Finally, she resumed, still out wherever her thoughts were:  “I’ve done terrible things.”  Then, surprisingly, she laughed fondly, and explained:  “Húanglóng.  It was Húanglóng.  We were allies, considering the more permanent connection between our two Courts that eventually manifested in our marriage, and already nearly as close to one another as I am to my Duchesses and Dukes.  He asked me what it accomplished, and whether it wouldn’t be better to try and teach them better, rather than dispatching them to… wherever they go.  Went.”

They knew these were words she had not spoken to many humans in her entire long life, if any.  And they waited silently, almost breathlessly, so she could continue.  “When I was cut off from Heaven… I think I remember a time I had more…” she frowned, searching for the word.  “Compassion.  Or maybe, kindness… Or…”

“Love?” Penny whispered, and she looked down at him, gratefully and with surprise.

“Yesss…” she hissed, unconsciously imitating his whisper, before she went back to wherever she had been.  “Love,” she nodded wonderingly, mulling it over in her own mind.  “I think I still feel love… some… I love myself.  I love my sisters and brothers.”  She looked down at them.  “And I’m starting to fall in love with you.  I’m sure of it.  There are a few humans I can love, and you… feel that way to me.  It’s one of the reasons I married you.  But there’s definitely something—” she pinched her lips together, hard, sounding hoarse:  “Something I’ve lost.  Something that made me… less vindictive.  Less proud.  Less… abandoned.  I didn’t act this way.  Oh, I acted rashly, and even—even with malice.”  She swallowed.

“Being the Queen… everyone looks to me.  At first, I thought:  Obviously I should be the Queen.  I’m the best!  The most-powerful, the most-beautiful, the most-caring—at least in hell—the most-natural leader; and of course I want to be the Queen.  I should be put first!  I deserve to be put first!  But the others can’t imagine, and I daren’t show them, the burdens.  Any weakness at all.  Either for my own sake, lest they sense vulnerability and try to take advantage of me… or for their sake, lest they panic that their leader has the same doubts they do.”

“Of course, Heaven is a cypher to me.  As is the Lord.  That… soul, that warm connection to knowledge of what is right and good, is gone.  But I can still think, and feel, and breathe.  On Earth, are Queens and Kings not chosen by the Lord?  And is it any different in hell?  Some demons have speculated, even argued before the Conclave, that we were banished to Hell because Heaven lacked the power to destroy us completely.  But most of us who felt—the force, the sheer power,” she gasped at the ancient memory, shaking her head sadly, “of what was done to us that day… have no doubt we could have been extinguished as easily as crushing an ant underfoot.”

Tears came to her eyes again.  “Was it mercy?  Was it supposed to be mercy, or an even-worse punishment than death, to be banished here?!”  She came back to them, to their eyes.  “If I’m right, and we were deliberately spared… then why should I, like a Queen or King among humans, be divinely selected?  If the Lord sought fit to preserve Hell, is it not His?  Along with its hierarchy?” 

The she pursed her lips, and continued more quietly:  “To love humans… is so rare for me.  It feels almost… dirty.  That, most of all, if it happens… you can never tell anyone that I love you.  You cannot tell anyone I’m even thinking I could love you, or talking about it.  Do you understand?”

They nodded breathlessly, responding to her urgency.  “Because we hate humans.  Some of us think that was the reason for our fall—our jealousy at humans, and the love they enjoyed—still enjoy!  You can’t imagine the fury we feel—to see humans are still loved, despite their vile evil!  They’re—you’re—worse than us, you know?  Because you’re capable of better.  You have full access to Heaven—perhaps, to love—if you only want it enough.  Every soul that ends in hell deserves to be there a thousandfold.  Because they had a choice!”

“Didn’t you?” Penny asked, looking as shocked as Chas at the words that had come out of her mouth.

“You’re impossible!”  She managed to look incensed, amused, and rueful all at once, before sinking back into something closer to sad acceptance.  She whispered:  “Maybe.”  She shook her head.  “Once.  I just… can’t… quite remember.  If you can be my apostle and awaken me, by all means—do so, little priest.”

“I’m not a priest,” she blushed.  “I’m ordained.”  Her face fell.  “Was ordained.  But I’m still a student.  I’ve never held an appointment.”

“You’re still ordained, darling,” Channah assured her.  “You think a succubus can’t feel that?  Practically see it?”  She focused in intently on Penny, as if urgently trying to reach him.  “Darling Penny, to return to your earlier question, I’ll never ask you to battle the Catholic Church if your conscience moves you to remain a part of it.  I promise.  I do need educated servants, and I have many of them.  But if I wanted you two,” she admitted Chas back into the discussion with her eyes, “and your sisters, to fight the Church, we would have made sure you understood why you were going to school all of those years.  We let you go to grammar school and you, Penny, to University, because we wanted to let you choose your own path.  Because you can’t serve your purpose to Us if you can’t think and feel for yourself.  You two girls are delicate instruments, useless to us if we try to force you to point, or measure, or report what we want to hear.”

“Why would the Lord allow me—” Penny began.

“You ask me about His purposes?”  She laughed caustically.  “What it means, why you remain sacred and set apart—is a discussion for another day.  Probably with another person.  Maybe with your confessor, if he can really be trusted.  But not with me—” her voice almost broke again “—because I don’t know the why of it.  Only the fact of it.  You have not lost your grace, Penny.  I don’t know why.  But I think it must be because, as I told you—as long as you live, you are free to make your own choices.  There are always choices, and they always have consequences.  But on Earth, it is never too late to change your mind.  And I’m sure—that is, I think—it’s you’re your mind and heart that matter to Heaven, that Heaven judges; not that of Popes or Bishops.  Not in relation to you, anyway.  Yes, there is a church in this Earthly world, with priests, with some influence, maybe even power, if you want to call it that.  But Heaven, not Earth nor anything or anyone in it, gives and withdraws grace.  The human rituals and ceremonies are, at best, an assent, or perhaps a way of communicating with the Lord what His human servants think is in service to Him.”  She shrugged, and finished in a small voice:  “I think.  I just don’t know.”

Literature Section “06-51 Hella Honeymoon VIII”—Part 51 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Continued from 06-49—1283 words—Accompanying Images:  1558-1561—Published 2025-04-04—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

1555 06-50 A pain that still sears after 6,000 years^
1556 06-50 Thank you for saving us, Super-Succubus!^
1557 06-50 D.A.R.E.-Dragon saving kids from the scourge of drug-addled zombies!^

“On the other hand, the war among the demons is fought in Hell, and on Earth, and it is a war of genocide.  The Lord may abide abominations like the Devils and Zombies to exist, but I will not.  Any more than they would willingly suffer the Succubae to exist.  We seek to exterminate the Devils and Zombies, as surely as they would exterminate the Succubae and the Vampires—and our allies, the Dragons—if they could.”

“This is a war of survival and preservation!  Dear Chas, dear Penny, we must win our war against the Devils and Zombies, or they will wipe us out.  They would eradicate all my sisters and brothers—and all our human operatives, including you both—in a heartbeat.  They would save me for last, and torture me at their leisure until they were ready to dispose of me.  It’s terribly unfair, but the Abominables—the Devils and Zombies—have made it clear in the past that they will attack and kill the youngest, the most-innocent, the most-vulnerable of my children just to spite me if they can!  Can you imagine?!  Children who will never be operatives, orphans, the unwanted, and the hunted—people I rescue!  Just out of loathing and hate.  They’re… they’re not even animals!  MY children!”  She shook her head, leaving no doubt in the girls’ minds that she was genuinely horrified and enraged by their conduct.  “But it’s even broader than us individually.  We fight for beauty… passion, and love!  Art!  The pleasures and lovely things in this world, and even those few we may find in hell.  The vampires, for the vibrancy of life itself!  And the dragons… well, honestly, they’re a little lazy.  But generally mild-mannered, if you leave them alone; and they really do tend to leave others alone, as long as they can get what they need to survive.”  She laughed, shaking her head.  “My husband—First-Husband to you—Húanglóng, King of the Dragons, the indolent sod, doesn’t have a spiteful bone in his body.”

“Compared to our real war, our unholy war, the contest against Heaven is a distant second front:  we need souls to fill our ranks, and to deprive our enemies.  But it’s less a war, more like… the Border Reivers:  English raiding into Scotland, Scots raiding into England, sometimes Reivers raiding without even bothering to cross the line.  But it’s all about pillaging the border lands—in our case, Earth.  Hell couldn’t breach Heaven if it tried.  And Heaven created the border itself, because it doesn’t want hell.  Or any of its denizens.  I’ve already asked you to puzzle on that.  I cannot possibly give you the answer, because I don’t understand Heaven.  My soul has been banished from it, and all knowledge and feelings of and from it.  When we were cut off—” she shook her head, her voice dropping to a whisper and breaking:  “When we separated…”  She pressed her lips together, actual tears springing into her eyes, unable to continue for a moment, her face tight and passionate.

“Oh, Domina!” her girls cried in unison and squeezed her tightly and warmly, holding her tightly as her lip quivered and, with a shake of her head, she gave up and allowed herself to cry, holding them right back, hearing them sob sympathetically for her.

Channah’s Confession

“I think you’re ready.  I think I’m ready.”  Her face became seriously thoughtful, and she squeezed them both, pulling their heads together on her breasts, each girl straddling one of her legs so she could see both of them easily, her eyes flicking back and forth without straying from them, so they both remained intimately enraptured by her gaze and her words, feeling an intimacy they may never have felt in their lives, and certainly not since their mothers’ presence.  In a second of shared semi-comedy, all the more intimate because it intervened in the midst of such intimacy, both girls winced and tugged up on their little cages so they rested on her thighs instead of pinching and pressing between them all.  Even with that adjustment, the girls were not quite comfortable—they were almost Channah’s size and the position they were put in was not only intimate with her, but cramped and awkward.  And somehow, that was right; a way for them to demonstrate their devotion and subservience, their lesserness and the slightly pathetic quality of the uneven yet affectionate relationship between them, even in her most-intimate moments and embrace.

“I want to tell you—I want to admit to you—who I am.  Something I have not even shared with all my wives.”  She snorted.  “Certainly not with Húanglóng, or any other creature of Hell.  It is—a vulnerability.  A weakness, I dare not show to anyone in hell, or almost anyone on Earth, only those completely loyal and devoted to me.  But it is so hard to carry alone, always alone… can I trust you with this?”

“Yes, Domina,” they gasped, confirming and therefore pledging their loyalty and devotion, lips as wide and relaxed as their eyes, practically hypnotized although she used no magic on them—no magic other than sincerity.  It was too important a matter for any illusion or artifice. 

“I would die before I would tell anyone else,” Penny promised, looking emotional.

“Oh, sweetie,” she kissed her forehead sweetly, then Chas’s as she assured her the same.

She pinkened slightly, and they saw something in her face they had never seen before; something embarrassed.  Something even ashamed.  She started in the faintest whisper, hardly willing to make the thoughts real by speaking them.  “It is essential for the trust between us to blossom and secure us to one another, for you to know the worst truths.  I have done terrible things.”

“I—I can be an evil bitch,” she admitted.  “I just feel such rage at things I know should not be, such desperation to protect my sisters and brothers—I’m a very passionate woman,” she concluded, looking down into both of their eyes in turn, searchingly, intensely, seeming to find the shred of understanding she was hoping for in their wide, open eyes.  “In the heat of the moment, especially under pressure—I try to act calm and stay in control—but I just see red.  It’s so hard.”  She bit her lip, shaking her head slowly and slightly as she stared into space, as far from the girls as they were rooted and locked to her in that moment, completely moved and honored by the vulnerability and mistakes she, who was so much more prominent and older than they, should share with them. “And sometimes the blackness of fear.  And they left me without limits.  I reacted to challenges with…” She considered, before settling on “extreme prejudice, towards all enemies, all challengers, even all obstacles.  I acted, then, as a youngling, the same way the devils act now.”  She waved a hand dismissively.  “The zombies are without limits, without restraint, but they aren’t intentional enough for comparison.  It’s almost like they just do, without thought.  Which doesn’t absolve them of anything, only makes them more despicable.  But the devils and their allies, like us, act with intentionality and awareness.  And there were times, long ago,” her voice becoming hushed, as if she could prevent heaven itself from overhearing her dark thoughts, “when I acted as they did.  I did kill—”  she bit her lip.  “I did kill humans simply for being in the possession of my enemies.”

The girls shuddered, and she felt it and softly wailed, squeezing them even harder, her face vulnerable and scared.  “Please—I’m sorry—I did it—Just for a human being in their consideration, because I viewed them as property.  I did it for the same reason you burn your enemy’s house down, not because you care about the house, or even think about the house, but because you want to take from its owner.”  She made an indignant sound.  “I don’t know!  Maybe it was more!  Because they were worse than property—something hateful, something hated.  Even if they were too young or too defiant to have chosen them.”

Literature Section “06-50 Hella Honeymoon VII”—Part 50 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Continued from 06-49—1362 words—Accompanying Images:  1555-1557.  Published 2025-04-03—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.