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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Domina, what?!

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

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

“Because we are emasculated sissies, Domina.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, like that.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excellent!” 

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

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

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

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

CAUTION:  Contains themes of heavy bondage and degradation some readers may find disturbing (even the abridged version).

Explicit version containing bullying, chastity, orgasm, analpenetration, analsex, CBT, consensualnonconsent, and asstomouth themes at 07-15X The Sex Surpassing Her Understanding at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  After a week of hazing by the succubae, and a looooong sleep, the first full day of Chastity’s and Penance’s honeymoon with Channah is finally beginning.  Before dawn, while Penny sleeps, Channah suspends Chastity by her wrists and ankles from the roof of her gazebo deep in the garden, gags her, and tops the hell out of her.  NOW:

“Fuuuuuccckkk that’s hot,” Channah blurted around their kiss as Chastity, shuddering and starting to cry.  She felt Chastity jerk as her sensitive bottom felt what Channah was growing down there.  With some difficulty, she forced herself to let go of her girl for a second to find something she needed, pausing when she turned back to absorb Chastity’s red face and pouring eyes and, above all, her utterly- and completely-helpless posture, feeling a flash of heat.  “Ohhhhh…. Honeydoll, you are well and truly at my mercy.  You’re as helpless as a newborn, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Domina!”  Chas sobbed, crying a little louder and nodding her head pathetically.

Anointing herself, and Chastity, with olive oil, she carelessly tossed aside the jar.  She rubbed the oil over her jariya’s bottom, practically chittering with delight as the girl danced and moaned and—

Channah froze for a second, scarcely believing her eyes, and then growled a deep-throated, forceful laugh that was different and striking enough, it caused Chastity to open her own eyes to see what was happening.  She immediately followed Channah’s gaze downward to her own waist and squealed like a grammar-school student noticing a tarantula crawling up their torso.

Overcome, Channah invoked curses—this time, with her usual gusto and assertive sense of agency—enough to make devils blush.  She practically pounced on Chastity, joining with her.  “You’re mine now, aren’t you, little girl?”

“Yes, Domina!” Chas bawled.  “I’m yours!  I’m totally yours!  I belong to you!  Please, oh please—ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!”  The expressions on this girl’s face as Channah took her, as hard as she could, understanding what she was feeling every time Channah pulled on her with her hands were an incredible—and for Channah, intoxicating—combination of pain, vulnerability, trust, and need.  It was, she realized with a shuddering surprise, her head practically exploding with the epiphany, the way Penny made her feel every single time—the way Penny was built—and was precisely what made Penny the perfect demon-bait.  It was what she imagined the one who had banished her experienced when humans suffered or even martyred themselves for their faith:  Perfect happiness, perfect elation—no!  Oh, shit!  Her mind reeling, she decided it was perfect and selfless love, the love that asked for nothing in return and acted purely out of that… thing, that part of humanity their maker had shared with humans, what they called their soul.

Now Channah had to scream, burying her face in Chas’s shoulder to muffle the sound of her own banshee wail as she experienced something on a par with what she had experienced yesterday with Penny—both times in her male aspect.  And she felt her cheeks redden in an unfamiliar embarrassment at how quickly she had finished.  She wasn’t sure if it was the depth and breadth of the magical connections she had forged with these two girls, or the excitement of what they had helped her begin yesterday, or the sheer perversity of the fact that to be able to capitalize on all she had invested in them, she could not do with either of them what she did as naturally as breathing.  She snorted into Chastity’s neck, shaking her head at the irony of it all, and decided what she was experiencing was probably a combination of all three factors working together.  Perhaps in combination with other factors she wasn’t as focused on right now.

As her last tremors finally subsided, she sighed and laughed ruefully, deciding the pleasure was something for her to embrace and enjoy, rather than worry about.  Returning to her lover’s mouth, the two of them shared another long, slow, sensual, completely-uneven kiss:  Channah standing proud and tall, fully refreshed, master of her own fate and her own world; Chastity hanging helplessly, badly-used by her master, her muscles and skin aching, sobbing, whimpering, weak and broken.  But both of them feeling united by their passion and the intense connection their intimacy had forged between them.

Finally, Channah pulled her head back and whispered:  “Are you going to be my good girl if I let you down?”

“Yes, Domina,” she nodded hopefully.  “Please, Domina.  I will be!  Forever and always!”

“Aww….”  And Channah couldn’t resist kissing her, just a minute or two more.  Finally, with a sigh, Channah reached up and yanked Chastity’s ankle chain from the hook, drinking up her ache as her body tried to readjust.  She was hanging by her wrists, her legs too numb and rubbery to support her.  “One last kiss, while we still can.”

Her girl looked up with her with wide, alarmed eyes.  “While we–?”  Channah kissed her quiet, then yanked her wrists off the hook and eased her down to a kneeling position at Channah’s feet.

“Before you’re too dirty,” Channah clarified brutally, shuffling to move it right into Chastity’s face.  “You know what to do.  You’ve seen Penny do it.”

Literature Section “07-15[X] The Sex Surpassing Her Understanding“—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 15 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 819 words::Explicit 1101 words—Accompanying Images:  2051-2055—Published 2025-07-15—©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.

CAUTION:  Contains themes of heavy bondage and degradation some readers may find disturbing (even the abridged version).

Explicit version containing bullying, chastity, masturbation, CBT, and consensualnonconsent themes at 07-14X The Agony and the Ecstasy at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  After a week of hazing by the succubae, and a looooong sleep, the first full day of Chastity’s and Penance’s honeymoon with Channah is finally beginning.  Before dawn, while Penny sleeps, Channah suspends Chastity by her wrists and ankles from the roof of her gazebo deep in the garden, gags her, and tops the hell out of her.  NOW:

“It’s confusing… even disorienting… isn’t it?  Because it’s like being punished and loved at the same time.  But imagine what it’s like to be me, that is, if you can get past yourself for a minute!  I need to punish you but I want to love you!

I mean, think about how much work it’s going to be with you trussed up like this, hanging like a side of beef—well,” she laughed, “Let’s be honest:  not really beef.  I know!  A side of lamb!  My little lamb-chop.”  And she began timing her blows to match and emphasize the words of her speech.  “Do you imagine this is going to be a comfortable, lazy game for me?!  I should think not!  Here I’ll be standing and practically bending over backwards to angle myself and thrust in and out, probably having to squat and stand up, maybe even perch on my tippie-toes, and… what?  You’ll just be hanging out here, as pretty and relaxed as you please?  In my lovely garden?  While I do all the work?!  Ooh!  It’s so unfair!  It makes me so angry!”  Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

“Isn’t it?  Unfair?” she cooed, and when she didn’t get an answer:  “That wasn’t rhetorical.  I asked you:  ‘ISN’T IT?!’” Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

Chastity frantically nodded and jabbered into her gag.

Snickering, Channah paused, moving around and kissing Chastity again as she pressed her soft hips forward, rubbing up against Chastity, being careful not to move her torso while they kissed because her girl was so close.   Murmuring around her tongue and Chastity’s stretched lips, rubbing the paddle over Chastity’s sore, sensitized hindquarters while she stroked Chastity’s hair, she continued:  “But you’re a lucky girl, aren’t you?”  And when Chastity nodded, Channah cooed and laughed and rubbed noses with her a moment before getting back to the kissing, little kisses on her cheeks and eyes and down to her ears. 

And then, back to the spanking:  a heavy, fast rhythm in her own head with a strange, almost lyrical quality. “You can’t imagine what it’s like to be a workaholic, at a job where your mission and half the work you do are also your only hobby.  For millennia!  I love it to fuck!  I probably, literally, exist for it to fuck!  But to do it all day, almost every day—and even every night!  Even while I sleep!  Can you imagine—well, I guess you humans dream about what you do during the day, too, but I’m sorry, it’s just not the same!  It’s how I feed my spirit, and it’s just another form of doing my damned—so to speak,” she giggled, “—job!  Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang!  Even I need a little variety!  Some creativity!  And it’s so precious to have a couple of girls who really, genuinely care for me, not the usual string of sad-sack horndogs who’d be just as happy with their own sister or grandmother or domestic animal, for that matter—anything with a hole.  Half of them would marry a loaf of bread if it would cook and clean for them!  Men!  Oh, sending them to hell is fun, don’t get me wrong, but as a group, they’re…” she shrugged.  “Total junk food.  The biggest, blandest, most undifferentiated pile of oversalted chips ever served up to anyone.  I need some fresh, wriggly little fish, like you and Penny, to go with my chips!”

“Yes, you’re right, of course, I do care more about her than I do you,” Channah didn’t even fully understand why she needed to say that, but she couldn’t help herself, twisting the knife at every opportunity, delighting at Chastity’s crushed whimper.  Of course, she was a demon, so it was easy enough to chalk if off to her evil and sadistic nature.  “But it’s not really about her—it’s complicated—but—the point is, I do love you too, little bimbo, in my own way, I really do; I even care about you!  And I know you love me.  So—what I’m trying to say is, I’m happy to work hard for you—not as hard as you,” she snickered, “I mean, I am the boss, and rank does have its privileges!  But I’m really enjoying this… I’m really going to enjoy this, even if its ten times as much work for me as a regular mark would be.”

And suddenly, just as Chastity started grunting and twitching with greater urgency and speed, Channah stepped back, removing her right hand, regarding her prey, her expression turning cruel and mean.  “But I do think you should suffer for me, bitch!  Because I am a Queen of Hell, and I demand your suffering as tribute!  Is that wrong, little cow?  Not rhe—” but Chastity was already shaking her head, as emphatically as she could, satisfying her master. 

“And besides—maybe most importantly—I like it!” she leaned closer, smelling the heady combination of fading arousal and spiking fear, and shuddering from it.  “And you really, really, really want to please me, your Domina, don’t you, dear?” she pouted, nodding along casually with Chastity.

With a lingering, insolent gaze, Channah moved out of Chastity’s line of sight.  “Good!” she agreed, taking a strong, balanced position and using both hands to bring the paddle up and across, almost like a golf swing, to match the angle of the blow to Chastity’s bottom.

Crack!  Chastity thrashed and cried out behind her gag as Channah hissed:  “Fuck yeah!”  And moaned with her arousal.  “That’s for finishing without permission!”

Crack!  OH! That’s good!”  Channah growled.  “Good girl! That’s for lying!”

Crack!  “You’re dancing like a water bubble on hot iron!”  She ran her hand over her girl’s bright red buttocks and moaned.  “They’re already hot and red like iron in a forge, sweetie!  Your buttocks are beautiful!”  And, inspired, she kissed each of Chastity’s cheeks, pressing and dragging her lips hard across the ultrasensitive, infrared skin and laughing, before stepping back.  “That was for your second time without authorization.”

Crack!  She gasped with her arousal, then breathed heavily for a moment, before she could regain control of herself enough to gasp:   “That was for being such a dumbo.  And—” she added impulsively, almost tempted to give a sixth whack, “—for embarrassing me in front of my Court with your selfishness and stupidity!”

Crack!  And she laughed, gasping for breath, still holding the paddle in her left hand and pressing it against Chastity’s back as a reminder of her power, straight up her spine from buttocks to shoulders, her left hand resting on the curve of her bottom, comfortably for her, very uncomfortably for her wriggling girl.  She literally rubbed it in, her hand to the girl’s bottom, patting and stroking it in a way that would have been comforting if her skin hadn’t already been on fire.  “There, there, and that was for your third time.”  She gasped in mock-surprise, cradling Chas’s soft flesh and observing with a hoot:  “It feels like a deflated little loaf of bread!  There, there, my little vanilla roll.”  She kissed her, hungrily, practically tearing off her gag to seal her own lips back over her girl’s mouth, shuddering as she squeezed the soft gooshy flesh down there.  She was laughing and moaning at once, lost in the bliss of her girl’s helpless scramble of misery and adoration, confusing her and messing her up. Moving to face her full-on from the front, she reached around and grabbed her buttocks,  struggling not to laugh as she used her own mouth to hush her. 

Literature Section “07-14[X] The Agony and the Ecstasy “—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 14 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 1269 words::Explicit 1370 words—Accompanying Images:  2047-2050—Published 2025-07-14—©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.

CAUTION:  Contains themes of heavy bondage and degradation some readers may find disturbing (even the abridged version).

Explicit version containing bullying, precum, chastity, masturbation, CBT, and consensualnonconsent themes at 07-13X Hung Out to Get Wet at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  After a week of hazing by the succubae, and a looooong day and night’s sleep, the first full day of Chastity’s and Penance’s honeymoon with Channah is finally beginning.  Before dawn, while Penny sleeps, Channah leads Chastity deep into the garden, chains her wrists together and hangs them from a hook, then chains her ankles together.  “I—I don’t understand—” Chas whined.  “I think you do, baby,” Channah grinned.  “I mean, you can’t—can you?”  NOW:

“I totally can, lover.  Of course I can,” Channah assured her, waited a beat, and then—proved it, shouting:  “Raise. Your legs!” seizing the ankle chain in her hands and pulling up hard on it, knocking Chas off her feet and then jerking up on the chain with such force she was able to lift Chas’s ankles up higher than her wrists and drop the ankle chain over the same hook holding her wrist chain.

“Oh fuck!”  Chastity squeaked, kicking and flailing helplessly while Channah ran her hands all over her body.

“Oh yes!”  Channah promised.  “Soon enough.  But be patient.”  And, suddenly, sounding unconvincingly innocent, she asked:  “How often did you break the rules yesterday, sweetie?’  Mm?”

Chas stopped moving and looked horrified.  Channah didn’t even say anything, she just slapped her girl’s bottom, hard.  “Two times, Domina!”

“Oh, dear.”  She shook her head and tut-tutted.  “I’d think you were a liar if I didn’t’ know already what a little dummy you are.”

Looking hurt and confused, Chas’s eyes darted from side to side, trying to figure out her mistake.

“One.  Two.  Three, sugar ninny.  You broke the rules again with your sisterwife, even after I reminded you what a bad girl you had already been.”

And Chas was even more pierced by knowing she had been stupid in answering her Domina, than she had been thinking she had been tricked by Channah, because she had betrayed herself and her Domina.  “Oh, oh I’m sorry, Domina!  I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what?!” Channah demanded, slapping her hindquarters on both sides, then surprising Chastity by unlocking her chakra box and slowly pulling it off, giggling equally at her girl’s expressions of arousal and shock, and the way she came to full attention.  “Silly girl,” Channah laughed, slapping her and making her yelp.  “Whatcha gonna do about it?” she glanced down significantly, delighted to hear Chas’s frustrated groan.  “Don’t worry, I’ll see what I can do to get rid of that for you.  Sorry—for—what?!

“I—what?”

“What exactly are you sorry for, airhead?!”  Whack!

“Oh!  I’m sorry—”

Whack!  “For what?!”

“Oh Domina, for everything!  For both—for all of it!”  Whack!  “OW!” she howled.

For? what?  Answer me sorry girl!  And don’t wake up your sisterwife with your bawling.”

“For lying—I mean, for lying, for being stupid, for breaking the rules, for being-stupid—again…” she finished miserably.

Whack!  Whack!  Whack!  Whack!

“That’s four things!”  Channah managed to sound indignant.  “And you forgot to apologize for making such a loud noise!”

This time, Channah whacked her even as she apologized again.  “I’m sorry I’m sorry ooh!  That stings—I’m sorry!”

“Obviously not enough.  Puddin’ would be soft as mush after the first whack,” she giggled.  “Open wide!”

 “I said wide!”  And she pushed a red leather ball into Chastity’s wide-opened mouth.  “This is so you don’t wake up Penny,” she cooed wickedly, using a buckling leather strap to hold the ball in place, before reaching down—still holding her girl’s gaze, seeing it turn afraid again as Channah’s predatory smile widened—and rising to reveal what had made the clattering sound before:  “I brought your paddle,” she cooed, revealing the Muladhara paddle made just for her.

Chastity made a muffled mewling noise and twisted uselessly, shaking her head sharply.

“You little tease.  As if that’s going to stop me, my darling dunce.  You’re just trying to turn me on,” she laughed, using her right hand to pull Chastity’s head forward for another long kiss, continuing until Chastity relaxed enough again to get into it and start kissing her back, even as Channah worked the edge of the bat up between Chastity’s cheeks, rocking it back and forth, laughing because she knew exactly what she was doing to Chastity.

Breaking their kiss, she rubbed her thumb against Chastity and snorted, bringing it up to Chastity’s mouth.  “That’s for later, girl.  Apparently, you think this is all about youAgain!

Chastity shook her head and tried to make negative noises, assuring her otherwise, but Channah ignored her sliding the paddle away and moving to Chastity’s left side, moving her right hand back down to play, teasing her until she started to pant.

And that was when Channah started to paddle her, one-handed, with her right hand manipulating Chastity, her body pressed up against her side, brushing her arm and knee—which were both about the same height as Chas’s head, and a bit lower than Channah’s—with soft kisses while her left hand thwacked Chastity’s bottom from an imperfect and awkward position, Chastity jumped pleasingly with every blow in response to Channah’s soft, teasing caresses and she started to make little gurgling sounds.

“Oh, dear, I’m not very good at this, am I?”  Channah tittered.  “Or you’re really boy-stupid.  At this rate, I’m not sure how I’m ever going to get you back in your box.”  She purred at the desperate sounds Chastity was making, and impulsively paused to lean around and make out with her lovergirl for a minute, before resuming.  “You do look kind of dazed and muddled.  I guess maybe I haven’t forgotten how to hurt and love a girl at the same time.  I know that can be terribly confusing, can’t it?”  Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

Literature Section “07-13[X] Hung Out to Get Wet”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 13 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 876 words::Explicit 1018 words—Accompanying Images:  2043-2046—Published 2025-07-13—©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.

PREVIOUSLY:  After a week of hazing by the succubae, and a looooong day and night’s sleep, the first full day of Chastity’s and Penance’s honeymoon with Channah is finally beginning.  NOW:

They had tumbled into Channah’s bed around midday.  Like humans, succubae experienced sleep cycles; but the most-active phases of their sleep, in particular, differed markedly.  Channah, in her sleep, had visited her current stable of dream-lovers.  She liked to keep 36 of them.  She wasn’t rigid about it, but it was a good target number, one that kept her fed and fueled her active and assertive life as a Queen of Hell.  Every succubus had her own preferred hunting grounds.  Because of the sheer scale of her appetites, and the power level required to dominate the rest of her species, she haunted sailing ships and army camps.  She kept seducing those she found awake by whispering into and touching their subconscious minds, to keep them focused on her and make them weaker.  And she had ridden those she found most-vulnerable and asleep, as hard as she could.  By the earliest hours of the morning, she was refreshed and filled to bursting with energy.

Even as she opened her eyes, she sensed Chastity, to her left, was awake; while Penance, to her right, remained asleep.  Turning her head slowly she met Chastity’s eyes, watching her so intently it took the motion of her head to alert her Channah was awake.  “Are you restless, my love?” she whispered.

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly…. I slept quite a long time.”

“Have you been awake long?”

“Perhaps an hour, or a bit more?” Chas guessed.

“Staring at me?” She smiled slyly.  “Or staring at us both?”

She didn’t need to see color clearly to know when Chas was blushing.  “A little bit.  Well, yes.”

“And?  How did it make you feel?”

“Amazed,” Chas admitted.  “You’re the most beautiful things in the world.  And so blessed…” then she caught herself, blushing.  “Or… I mean… fortunate.”

“I love it,” she smirked.  “And I love you for thinking that.”  She rolled toward Chas and kissed her softly, once, before deciding that wasn’t enough and kissing her again.  They wrapped their arms around one another, moving slowly so as not to wake Penny, and held one another tightly for the longest, sweetest kissing session either of them could remember for a long time.

It was only when Chas shifted slightly that Channah growled a throaty laugh, reaching her hand down to find the source of the problem.  Pulling back an inch and licking her lips, she giggled:  “Ohhh… baby… are those nasty Persian Gates starting to pinch again?”

“Yes, Domina,” Chas confessed. 

“Mm… well, let’s do something about that.”

“Oh… yes, please Mistress,” Chastity agreed, desperate to release the pressure she was feeling.

“Let’s get your leathers,” she whispered.  “This is my day, remember?”

“Yes, Domina,” Chas swallowed.  “What about Penny?”

She looked back over her shoulder, fondly, then grinned.  “Sleeping the sleep of the innocent at heart.  I’ve got more than enough energy for both of you.  Let’s let him rest up while I wear you out and then maybe you’ll be able to sleep a bit more.”  And she laughed, pushing Chas off the bed before her, and then taking her by the hand to lead her down the stairs from her bedroom.  At the bottom of the stairs she physically turned Chas so she was facing the garden and informed him laughingly:  “Keep your eyes front, missy, while I look through your toybox.  Well…. My Toybox, of toys for playing with Chastity,” she clarified.

“Um…. To tell you the truth, Domina, it’s so dark I don’t think I could see what you were doing even if I were right beside you,” Chas admitted.  “But of course I won’t peek, Domina.”

“Better yet, why don’t you get some cushions from the salon—in front of you—and bring them along?”  Channah could see as well in darkness as in daylight; even better, in some ways, in some wavelengths.  Placing most of the items she had selected in a bag, she took Chas’s arm (since her hands were now full holding three large cushions), kissed her, and set off along the garden path toward the baths.

“Are we going to take another bath?”  Chas asked breathlessly.

“You’ll see,” she promised, laughing girlishly and hiding whatever she had behind her, leading Chas all the way to the second spring, the one that fed the main garden stream.  There, she turned right, leading Chas along its rocky bank, under the canopy of the trees until they reached another open spot, mixed garden and grass, overlooking the great valley.  Within it, at the edge overlooking the valley, was a simple stone gazebo.

“It’s all so beautiful—I feel like it’s a magical world… it’s—” and suddenly she interrupted herself with a sharp intake of breath.  Channah laughed, guessing what she had seen:  the heavy hook, hanging from the roof of the gazebo, just a bit above head level.

“Set the cushions on the stone platform,” she commanded, tugging Chas forward, not allowing her to stop for more than a second beside the platform, and positioned her directly beneath the hook.  Dropping whatever she had brought with a rustle and clatter, she brought both her hands to Chas’s cheeks and neck, pulling her in for a long, slow, hot kiss, and then running her hands over Chastity’s shoulders and tummy and breasts while continuing to kiss her.

Breaking their kiss and humming happily, she squatted down to retrieve her bag and handed it to Chastity to hold while she rummaged through it until she found what she was looking for.  While she kissed Chastity’s cheeks and lips softly, Chastity felt Channah take her right hand and then her left, massaging each arm and fastening the cuffs in their familiar places around her wrists.  Next, laughing as she kissed Chastity deeply, she pulled two more cuffs out of the bag.  Then she and smouched her way down Chastity’s neck, breasts, and stomach to tease her caged flesh and kiss, kiss, kiss under her belly button and in the crevices where her legs met her torso and even the front of her thighs, totally distracting Chastity—not that she needed to—as she locked Chastity’s ankles. 

Working her way back up Chas’s body, she pulled a short length of chain from the bag, drawing the cold metal teasingly up Chas’s skin, catching both her arms, and pulling her hands in front of her.  In the night, in the shadow of the gazebo, Chastity saw only the corner of Channah’s wicked smile clearly, but she knew she was looking straight into her eyes, as she used carabiners to attach the two ends of the chain to her wrist cuffs.  Chastity let out a shuddering breath as Channah lifted her hands over her head and slid the chain over the hook.

“Have you figured it out yet, sweetie?”

Chas knew she meant, what Channah had in mind, because she had not locked or tied Chas’s hands to the hook and Chas could slip them off the hook anytime if she wanted.  “No…” she admitted, both excited and scared at once. 

With a deep-throated laugh, Channah drew another short chain from the bag as she kissed her way back down her girl’s body and chained her ankles together.

“I—I don’t understand—” Chas whined, as she began moving back up again.

“I think you do, baby.”

“I mean—I mean, you can’t—can you?”

Literature Section “07-12 The Garden Path at Night”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 12 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—1230 words—Accompanying Images:  2037-2042—Published 2025-07-12—©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.


1649 06-75 Pleaser (Penny)

PREVIOUSLY:  Queen Channah has decided to take an opportunity to teach Hanim Qahramanah about how to train her girls, and combines the occasion with an early start to her honeymoon.  They are practicing trust-building.  NOW:

“Do you trust me, Chas?” Channah asked next, and again.

“I do,” she pledged like an eager bride, to all appearances grateful for the chance to repeat it.  Like she’d be happy to repeat it all day.

Esmeray considered, and then nodded to her girl:  “Penny, will you trust me?”

Penny swallowed.  “I will, Qahramanah.”

“Do you promise?”

Penny nodded.  “Yes, Mistress.  I promise to trust you.”

“Good.”

“See how easy that was?”  Channah concluded.  “Now reward her.  Show your appreciation.”

“How?”  Esmeray asked suspiciously.

“Pet her hair, hold her hand, run your fingers down her arm… some gesture of intimacy,” Channah demonstrated by resting her hand on the side of Chas’s neck, making her gasp.

Esmeray looked Penny up and down, and finally placed her hand on Penny’s dress, along her side, just at the base of her ribs, forcing a small but unconvincing smile.

Channah snorted.  “Buy gloves.  Before we return.  I want you to have a pair when we meet you here again.”

She met Channah’s eyes and nodded her agreement.

“Now stand up, Chas.” 

“You may rise, Penny,” Esmeray pronounced, deliberately ostentatiously, goofing around.

Turning Chas around, Channah replaced her blindfold as Esmeray imitated her with Penny.  Then the two women returned the girls to their back-to-back positions.

Donning the Purple

When she met Channah’s eyes, the Queen smiled and held her finger over her lips.  “Pick another item from the box,” she said, while with her hands, she mimed placing a bit in her mouth.  Esmeray nodded, smiling slightly.  “Now that the girls are blind, they will feel extra vulnerable.  It’s why we started with the blindfolds.  Being able to see is one of the most important forms of control, especially for a trans girl.  But it applies to everyone.”  With an impish look, she gently pushed Chas into Penny, and the two women laughed at the way they struggled to avoid touching one another again, reacting to any touch as if they’d been shocked with static electricity.

Channah took one of the two gags, lifting it over Chas’s head without touching her, then leaning in tight to the girl’s back, startling her, with her lips inches from Chas’s ear.  Esmeray imitated her.  Almost—not quite touching Penny anywhere, but getting close, looking very serious and thoughtful about it.  “Open wide, girls,” Channah commanded, popping the horse bit between Chas’s teeth and tugging back.  “This one you don’t want to be tight in the back—you want that little bit of distance.  But in front, it’s another matter.  It’s okay to stretch those lips a little bit.”  She laughed deeply in her throat as Esmeray surprised Penny by tugging harder so she could ratchet the strap far enough to reach the next hole.  “Their lips shouldn’t be so tight they’re white or stiff.  But a little bit of discomfort is okay.  You can test for extra stretch in their lips, too, if you’re willing to stick your finger in their mouth.”  And she demonstrated, tugging the corners of Chas’s lips a bit to demonstrate they still had room to extend further, her voice becoming more sing-songy.  “I like them to remember they’re suffering for our pleasure.  Something bearable so it doesn’t distract them from us, but intense enough to assure me I’m on their minds constantly.”

“Yes…” Esmeray nodded slowly, pleased with the idea.  “Are you uncomfortable, little girl?”

“Yeph, khawamannath,” Penny murmured around her bit, nodding her head while the women laughed at her pronunciation.  “Pleeff nopsahbite!”

“Well, I couldn’t understand that at all,” Esmeray protested and shrugged, meanly but not quite convincingly, clapping her girl on the shoulders and reaching back into the box, frowning and looking askance at Channah.

“Did you find something… interesting?”

“Yes, Mistress,” she agreed, holding up two hollow brass bars shaped like Latin crosses, with rings at the end of each side arm and at the end of the long bottom arm, while the top arm curved like a scorpion’s tail, ending in a glass bulb.  They clanged slightly against one another, catching the girls’ attention.                     

Channah shook her head, containing her urge to smile.  “Let’s stick with purple for now.”  And she nodded with approval as Esmeray handed her one arm cuff, and then a second.

“Hold your arms up for me,” Channah ordered Chas, using her own hands to guide his where she wanted them, and nodded to Esmeray, who told Penny: 

“You too, Penny.  Hands up to your waist.” 

Channah shuffled counter-clockwise so she was looking at the girls from the side and began cuffing Chas’s right wrist, while Esmeray did the same to Penny.  Penny made a slight whimpering sound.

“Hot,” Channah responded, leaning in and kissing him lightly on the cheek.  “So glad you girls are gagged so we don’t have to contend with your words and ideas anymore.  Just your raw feelings.  Be good and stay still, sweetie.  You don’t really have any choice, do you?”  she taunted her.  “You’re in hell, my hell, surrounded by the damned and my guards.  Accepting bondage is just a way for you to prove you trust me.  So romantic…” she sighed, rooting through the box for the remaining wrist cuffs and handing one to Esmeray.  “Let’s swap girls,” Channah giggled, fairly confident she was the only one in this small group who would understand the joke.  Maybe Chas… maybe.  But she was only a libertine by England’s tight-laced standards.

“Same little-finger test, Mistress?”  Esmeray asked, checking Penny’s right wrist before turning to Chas’s left.

“Always, child.  It’s still tight enough they can’t slide them over their thumbs, but you can always double-check if you’re concerned.”  And she demonstrated, making sure the cuffs were narrower than Chas’s wrists.

Next, after finding the four purple leg restraints, the woman squatted down beside the girls and bound their ankles.  Channah ran her hand over the girls’ calves and ankles, drawing a curious stare from Esmeray.  “I love the way the stockings feel on their smooth legs.  All silky and slippery.”  Hesitantly, Esmeray ran her own fingers up Penny’s leg, liking the way she could make the girl shiver when her fingers slipped up behind her knees to her thighs.  Channah paused and watched until Esmeray became self-conscious of her observation and stopped.  “Do you like it?”

She thought, and admitted:  “I like the gags because I can tell them what to do but they can’t engage me back in any way.  No questions from Little Miss Bigmouth—what?”

“That’s exactly what Fang called her,” Channah chittered.

“It fits.  As you warned me.  But now:  No questions, no complaints, no protests, no arguments….  And,” she set Chas’s ankle cuff down for a moment, running her hands up and down both girls’ legs, a little more relaxed than a moment earlier.  “I like the stockings for the same reason:  I can feel them, even imagine them, but I’m not actually, you know…”

“Touching them?”

“Exactly.”

Literature Section “06-75 Dance of the Qahramanat X”Part 75 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1155 words—Accompanying Images:  1649-1652—Published 2025-04-27—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

PREVIOUSLY:  Queen Channah has decided to take an opportunity to teach Hanim Qahramanah about how to train her girls, and combines the occasion with an early start to her honeymoon.  While discussing trust and discipline, Channah surprises Esmeray by reminding her of a time she thought she had run away undetected.  NOW:

A Trip Down Memory Back-Alley

“Of course I knew, my little runaway,” Channah laughed musically.  “You were a clever teenager, and clearly a wild one, but we’ve been wrangling hucows since before human history even began.   What was so important about that flight, do you think?”

Esmeray opened her mouth as if to answer, then snapped it shut, eyes darting around as if searching for the right answer in the air around her.  And then, amazingly, they seemed to find what she was looking for, widening, and flitting briefly past Channah’s, before she looked intently down at the floor.

Channah stared at her silently until she whispered:  “That was the last time I left.  And the first time I came back on my own.”

Channah beamed.  “And have I asked you to take risks since then?”

Esmeray laughed.  “I should think so!”

“So why are you here, helping me now?”  Esmeray looked anywhere but at Channah.  “Because you’re not stupid, Esmeray.  Because even with everything you experienced, all the times your trust was violated, you still know that trusting someone, sometimes, is unavoidable.  And have I ever betrayed your trust, Esmeray?”

“Not yet,” she admitted hoarsely.

Channah rolled her eyes but otherwise let it go. 

Trust Games

“Now I want Penny and Chas to learn to trust you.  While I train Chas, I want you to begin the process of teaching Penny that she belongs by your side, or at your feet before you.  Schooling her so she’ll never run away from you, even when she’s back near the places she grew up, because she’s learned that she’s better off and happier with you.”  Channah smiled thinly.  “Even when you’re a total bitch.” 

Esmeray met her eyes for a long moment, and finally nodded.  “I’ll try.”

“I don’t think you have to try to be a total bitch, my dear,” Channah snickered cattily.  “But the really hard part for you is, if you want Penny to trust you, you have to learn to trust her.  Just as I trust you.”

“You—trust—” Esmeray looked down at Penny for a moment, startled by the idea, then startled that the idea of someone trusting her, itself startled her.  Finally she looked back at Channah.  Exasperated, she repeated herself:  “I’ll.  Try.

“Good.  You’re already Penny’s world.  Can you see that?  How sincerely she’s been attending to you since I asked her?  She’s a good girl.  Now you focus on her.”

With a deep breath, Esmeray squared her shoulders and met Penny’s eyes, continuing to hold her wrists and wrapped fists.  She stood about a foot away from the smaller woman. 

“Ask her to kneel to you.”

“’Ask’?” 

“Yes.  Of course, as Penny’s qahramanah, it’s your prerogative to order her to her knees any time you want for any reason, or for no reason at all.  Penny knows that as well as you do.  Don’t you, Penny?”

“Yes, Domina.”

Channah petted Penny’s hair absently as she continued speaking to Esmeray:  “Remember, this moment isn’t about force.  This moment is about Penny acknowledging her place, admitting her acceptance of your dominance.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

Channah caught her eye and mouthed “Pleaser,” as she ruffled Penny’s hair a second before dropping her hand.  Out loud, she said:  “I’m afraid you’re going to have to take that risk and see.”  Leaning forward, she emphasized:  “That’s the point.”

Staring solemnly down at Penny a moment, Esmeray breathed deeply again—and then looked back up at Channah:  “Ask?!  I—I don’t like to ask.  I prefer to tell.

“I know you do,” Channah chuckled.  “And I feel similarly.  But the question that distinguishes us right now, is why?” 

“Because it’s easier.”

“But why?” And when she looked confused, Channah explained:  “I’ve been Queen of Hell longer than the Pharaonic dynasties ruled Egypt.  It’s almost always easier for me to order than to ask because I know from long experience, I can trust my own knowledge and judgment.  But is that why it’s easier for you?  You’re an impressive young woman, but you are just that:  young.  A mere quarter-century young.  Are you so sure you have all the answers already, or is it easier not to ask, because you’re afraid to leave the decision up to them?”

Esmeray stared at her blankly, eyes losing focus as she considered the question, and perhaps even how it might apply to her.  She didn’t seem to reach a solid answer, but she did look a bit frustrated.

Channah pointed at Penny from behind again, and repeated silently:  “Pleaser.”  Then Channah moved in front of Chas, took her hands, and silently commanded the attention of her eyes.  Not that Chas could see anything else with the vision of Channah before him.  Channah smirked back at her, pleased.  “Be sure to use Penny’s name when you address her.  Frequently.  Using her name, while she addresses you with your title, will both reinforce the natural hierarchy between you; and make you feel closer to one another.  Now, follow my example.  If you want to change the words, good.  The more unique and authentic your words are, the better.  But I want you to get similar commitments from Penny, that I receive from Chas.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Esmeray agreed.

“And when I say ‘similar,’ for example:  Chas already trusts me.  Don’t you, Chas?”

“Oh, yes Domina!” she assured her earnestly.  It was not yet the love Penny felt, but it was as close to that as it was to mere trust. 

“Whereas you do not trust that Penny trusts you yet.  You have just revealed that.”

Esmeray looked discomfited, and sounded almost accusatory:  “You’re going to tell me that’s somehow a sign of weakness, too, aren’t you?  Even though only suckers trust other people.”

“Correct!  Or perhaps more precisely, it’s a sign of a lack of confidence in your own ability to command the trust of your lessers.  Learn to act like you trust others, even if you do not.”  Channah gave her full, undivided attention to Chas, smiling softly and looking into her eyes.

“Will you please kneel to me?”

“Oh, yes, Domina,” she sighed, sliding down to her knees like a leaf floating to the ground.

Channah looked at Esmeray, who glanced at her before addressing Penny:  “Penny, I would like you to show your trust in me by kneeling before me.  Will you do that?”

“Yes, Qahramanah,” she answered, sliding to her knees without taking her eyes from Esmeray’s.  Esmeray smiled despite herself.

“Now, can you step closer to her?”  Channah asked, stepping forward so she was immediately in front of Chas, her legs pressed against the girl’s shoulders and arms, her crotch directly in the girl’s face, the two of them sharing a playful laugh together as she craned her neck to keep Channah’s eyes.  “Like this.  See how it forces her to strain for you?”

“Standing against her,” Esmeray intoned.  “Right up against her.”

“Or even further,” Channah winked at Esmeray, then down at Chas, stepping several more inches forward, pushing Chas backwards so she had to strain her muscles to hold her position.  “I’d push her all the way until she fell back on her hands, except I don’t want to scuff their lovely new mitts.  But it’s always a move to consider.”

Esmeray snorted, and made herself step forward, forcing Penny to rear back a few inches, just like Chas.  “It’s not so bad,” she reported, her tone leaving it open whether she was talking to Channah or to herself; her slight shiver making Penny promise herself to do her best.

Literature Section “06-74 Dance of the Qahramanat IX”Part 74 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1252 words—Accompanying Images:  1645-1648—Published 2025-04-26—©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.

1644 06-73 Channah rescues Penny in her dreams

PREVIOUSLY:  Queen Channah has decided to take an opportunity to teach Hanim Qahramanah about how to train her girls, and combines the occasion with an early start to her honeymoon.  They are discussing trust.  NOW:

“Here, let’s try something,” Channah decided.  “Chas, will you be still and patient for me?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“Good girl.”  She squeezed Chas’s hand reassuringly and stepped around, removing Chas’s blindfold and then turning her to face sideways.  “Stay,” she smirked at Chas, then removed Penny’s blindfold to find her staring curiously but acceptingly at Channah.  Spinning her back to face Esmeray, Channah announced:  “Penny, I want you to give Esmeray every bit of your attention.  Chas, you can listen, but when I’m ready for you, I want you to give me your full attention as well.”

“Of course, Domina.”

“Penny, I’ve taken off your blindfold for a moment so you can watch Esmeray, and listen to her, and give her every one of your senses.”

“Yes, Domina,” she agreed, seriously, looking up into Esmeray’s eyes.

“Esmeray, I want you to take Penny’s hands.”  Esmeray stiffened, and Channah repeated soothingly:  “It’s okay, Esmeray.  Here—even better…”  She reached down into the box and removed two pairs of something that looked like purple mittens with short belts attached, handing one pair to Esmeray and commanding the girls:  “Penny and Chas, hold up your hands in front of you and make them into fists.”

“Domina?” Penny asked, surprised and even recoiling a bit, while Chas did as she was told.

“Did you see that reaction, Esmeray?”

She nodded slowly.

“What did you see?  How did she react when she wondered if I was going to have her be aggressive?”

“She—didn’t like the idea,” Esmeray nodded uncertainly.

“Correct!  No, she did not.  She’s very sweet and trusting.  Even more than the others.  That’s why she’s perfect for you to practice on.”  Then, turning back to Penny, Channah clarified:  “Obviously you girls will leave the mucho toro macho posing to the mamluks.  I meant, curl your fingers and thumbs as if you were trying to make weak little fists.  Imagine your lover is carrying you away against your will and you’re going to beat ineffectively on his chest in a futile gesture of protest.”

“Domina!”  Penny protested weakly, turning pink and breathing faster, while the women laughed.  But she held her hands up in loose little fists. 

“See how her thumbs are outside like they’re supposed to be?  Actually, she’s been trained to fight like the rest of them.  She just doesn’t have the… let’s be honest, the cojones to be a toro.”

“I see that.  More of a vaca marica.”

“Qahramanah…” Penny whined softly.

“Is that resistance?”  Esmeray snapped, and when Penny swallowed and shook her head, she concluded:  “I didn’t think so.”

“Slide the glove over her fist.  Pull it as hard as you can, and then fasten the belt around her wrist,” Channah instructed, demonstrating on Chas.

“I’m not sure it’s big enough…”

“Fortunately, the two of them are almost identical in size.  One of the many reasons they make such a perfect pair.  And they’ve been carefully measured in the past few weeks.  Do you remember, Penny?”

“Yes, Domina.  For… grown-up clothes,” Penny blushed charmingly again.

“Physically grown-up, at least.  As much as you’re going to.  As a boy anyway.” When they were both done binding their girls’ hands, the straps around the wrists locking their hands into fists inside the thickly-padded gloves, Channah stood back and repeated:  “Now you can touch the leather instead of the girl.”

“And she’s—she’s really quite helpless already,” Esmeray marveled, facing Penny and holding her by her leather-cuffed wrists and leather-bound fistettes. 

“Now, this is a very important and intimate moment,” Channah cautioned her.  “Imagine she is your daughter.”

“She’s not going to like that,” Esmeray shook her head, something ugly and fierce stealing across her face and eyes, as Penny quickly looked down, gasping.

Channah considered a moment.  “Have you ever had a pet?”

“I had a puppy once.  On the streets of Constantinople.  We protected each other.”

“Imagine she’s your puppy.  That puppy.”

Esmeray suddenly beamed.  “I like that idea.  He’s—she’s—my little savior.  I’d love to make her my pet.  She’d be perfect!”

Channah smothered a smile.  “Then the stars have aligned for you, Esmeray dear.  As Penny’s quaramanah, she is yours to do anything you see fit to when she’s under your authority.  Anything your heart desires.  Your puppy, your plaything, your piglet, your placemat.”  Channah shrugged.  “Anything you want to fashion her into.”

“Good.  You’re my puppy now!” she informed the girl gaily.

“Yes, Qahramanah,” Penny answered, uncertain but unresisting.

“What I want is for both of you to learn to trust one another and be close to one another.  Partly that’s about force, Esmeray—showing her you’re always in charge, correcting her immediately for any infraction, and occasionally reminding her how utterly she is yours, even when she’s been a good little doggie for you.”

“Yesss,” Esmeray nodded, looking down at Penny with an odd light in her eyes. 

“But you don’t want a Spartacus who’s only obedient as long as he has to be.  You want a pleaser who genuinely wants to submit to you.  Penny’s naturally submissive so she wants to obey and follow.  But you want her to feel that submission for you, especially for you.  More for you than anyone except for me.”

“But trusting is stupid,” Esmeray frowned and shook her head, disagreeing, looking troubled.  “Penny’s not stupid.  Discipline is better.”

“Actually,” Channah agreed, “none of your slave girls are slouches in the intellect department.  We don’t recruit many idiots.  There’s no reason to, unless they have some extraordinary compensating talent.  Everyone on this platform, almost all the mamluks and jawari, are smart.”

“Then—” Esmeray made a frustrated gesture.  “What are we trying to achieve here?”

 “Trust, Esmeray.  I thought that was clear.  As it turns out, you are wrong about trust.  Discipline is useful, but discipline and trust go together.  They’re not substitutes.  Not when molding a servant.  Every one of my vassals and slaves on this platform proves it:  trust is smart.  Yes, trust can always be betrayed.  And yet it’s necessary—humans couldn’t survive without it.”

I survived.”

Channah cackled.  “Ah, Esmeray, the memory plays tricks.  Do you remember where I found you?”

She reddened.

“Locked underground like a half-drowned rat, likely bound for the inquisitor’s stake?  Do you remember the first time I took you back to Constantinople, a few years later, and you ran back to your old street?  Alley, really?”

“You—you knew about that?!” Esmeray gasped, surprised and worried.

Literature Section “06-73 Dance of the Qahramanat VIII”Part 73 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1076 words—Accompanying Images:  1641-1644—Published 2025-04-25—©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.

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, a Queen of Hell, for reasons of her own, has married two human transgender girls she is taking through the Hell of Lust to reach their honeymoon destination.  At the foreboding Chang’an Castle, Penny and Chas have been told to open Duchess Fang’s wedding gifts to their Domina, Queen Channah, while the succubae and qahramanat watch.  NOW:

Operant Conditioning

“Oh—I apologize, Domina,” Hong bowed from her position kneeling on her saddle’s back.  “I didn’t—”

“No, it’s fine” Esmeray interrupted hastily, reaching out, almost as if she were fighting her own arm to get it to move.  “I’m sorry,” she murmured quietly, while Hong and the two succubae exchanged significant looks, and the girls scrambled to catch up.  “I—recognize them.  These are for… prisoners.”

“Or in this case, lovers,” Channah clarified gently.  “Not you—ever.  Only the girls.”

Esmeray met her eyes.  “The girls?”

“Only them.  Ever.  I promise.  Using them on the girls might even… help you.”

“Help me?” she frowned.  “To use it on them?”

“Yes.  You may find it… empowering.  But if you never want to use them, it’s fine.  We’ll definitely bring them with us on the honeymoon.  Fang and Hong, they are lovely.  A more fitting gift than you might even have thought.  But it is the very significance and importance of the gift that makes it more serious.”

“What—what are they, Domina?”  Penny asked.

“I know now,” Chas whispered.  “They’re not—exactly what I’ve—seen.”

Channah looked at Chas closely, stood up, approached him, and squatted down beside both girls, surprising them by feeling them.  “But you’re not bothered,” she pronounced.  “At least, not in the same way as Esmeray.  Good.”  She turned to Penny, smiling archly, still holding them both.  “They’re to restrain you girls so you’re helpless for me and I can have my way with you.”  And she gasped when Penny did.  “Good,” she nodded, causing Fang and Hong to exchange an amused glance.  She stood and returned to her seat as Esmeray slowly reached into the box again, pulling out bright red pieces.

“Eyes,” she nodded, considering one of the pieces.  “This one is for the eyes.”  She drew out another.  “And… the mouth?”

“Yes,” Hong confirmed.

Channah was peeking into the package she had opened, and met Fang’s gaze, smiling, before closing it again.  “I’m going to save that one.  Thank you, Fang.  Thank you, Hong.  Thank your benefactors, girls.”

“Thank you, Domina,” the girls chorused.  “Thank you, Hong Qahramanah.”

“You’re very welcome, girls,” Fang and her own wife touched hands.

Trying Out the Wedding Gifts

“I want to be the first to cover their eyes,” Esmeray declared.  Penny and Chas exchanged a nervous look.

“Oh, look at the girls,” Channah smiled.  “Actually…” she considered for a moment, then laughed wickedly.  “I like that idea.  It will let you, Esmeray, have your first chance to observe the girls, and I think it will set the right… mood for the honeymoon.  Let’s release Hong’s girls back to her so she can begin.”  Channah stood again, as the other women imitated her.

“Hong, the Hongettes are yours again.”

“Yes, thank you, Domina,” she curtsied, deciding not to mention or inquire about the nickname.   Instead, she purred:  “Stand and stretch yourselves, bitches.  You need to be ready for hard service again in a minute.”  The four girls, all looking even more excited than before, stretched and rose, loosening up after their service as saddles.

“Esmeray, attend closely today.  First to me, of course.  But you’ll also have plenty of opportunities to observe what to expect when we return next week, and how Hong handles her jawari.  So watch and learn.  And if we’re going to blindfold the girls…” she laughed wickedly.  “They won’t have any idea what’s required of them.  So Esmeray, you’ll have to watch this week extra carefully to learn.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Esmeray agreed.

“First lesson, Esmeray, when you’re managing the girls…” Channah commented, moving so that Chas and Penny were between them both.  “You should always be considering control.  Do you have it, how to keep it, and whether you’re in any danger of losing it.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“With two tops, or dommes, and two bottoms, or subs, in an open area like this one, with no walls or other obstacles to help you corral your subs, I often like to trap the subs between us, the way we are doing right now.”

The girls glanced around in surprise at the first thought of their position, while Esmeray asked:  “What about the edges of the hetaraslakos?  Couldn’t that be a barrier?”

“Very good,” Fang nodded approvingly.   “It’s good to think about how you can use your environment in each moment.

“I agree,” Channah nodded, “but the reason I didn’t want rely on it is because simply backing your girls against a cliff is an active threat which itself is out of your control.  Unlike a wall, which you can usually count on to stay in place and limit not only your sub’s actions, but also to limit the number of environmental factors out of your control.”

“Out of my control?” she asked.

“When we’re ready for edgeplay, literal edgeplay, we might back the girls against the edge of the platforms.”

“Please, no, Dom—” Chas began, hushing when Channah placed her finger on the girl’s lips, otherwise ignoring her.

“Hush. No one is speaking to either of you girls.  It’s adult time now.”  And looking back at Esmeray, she continued with her thought:  “But what if there’s a sudden gust of wind?  Or your girl loses her balance or panics?  Or one of the damned throws an object, either to get your attention or out of frustration?  The damned are usually pretty focused on trying to reach you, but they’re not always the best-reasoned, or therefore predictable, of creatures.  The point is, once you’re sure you have control, you can take your girls to the edge.  But you get total control of your girls first, to limit the number of variables you have to worry about at one time.”

“Yes, Mistress.  Thank you.  That is helpful.”

Behind Esmeray, Hong switched back to Chinese with her girls and they began moving with purpose to form a line before her, listening to her.

Behind Channah, Fang strolled to the band of aging jawari as they finished their piece of music, and spoke with them in rapid-fire Mandarin as they nodded and bowed to her.  Chas looked a bit sad as she watched their interactions.

“What’s the matter, honey bar?” Channah asked curiously, touching Chas’s chin. 

Her eyes flickered to Channah’s, then away again, embarrassed, and she whispered:  “I was wondering… if there was a time Fang looked upon her jawari musicians with the same tenderness she shows now… for…”. Chas forced herself to look back at her and almost linched at the expression of pity in Channah’s eyes. 

“Time is a far crueler mistress than me,” Channah acknowledged.  “I’m sorry, hucow.  But if it’s any consolation, Fang values her old jawari, too.”  She sniggered.  “Dirty old jawari have their uses.  Their desperation to please… is delicious.” 

Satisfied with the orders she had issued, Fang sat on one of the benches, as calmly and precisely as she did everything, mainly focused on Hong, but briefly meeting Chas’s eye, startling her, making her wonder if she had heard the exchange.  Fang winked so that Chas looked back at Channah, then blushed harder and looked down.  Both succubae laughed as the drummers began a new piece, pounding out a much heavier percussive beat than they had before.  Soon, they were joined by a sly and suggestive melody and harmony, and finally, two of the women—one a soprano, the other a tenor—began singing to one another and the world. 

One of the last things Penny noticed before she was blindfolded, was the way the devils and demons below changed their movements and sounds when the music changed.  They were neither singing nor dancing; indeed, they could hardly be described as rhythmic.  And yet, there was something about their movements that was affected by the music from the band; some quality about their voices and expressions that complemented what the orchestra was doing.

Literature Section “06-71 Dance of the Qahramanat VI”Part 71 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1317 words—Accompanying Images:  1633-1636—Published 2025-04-23—©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.

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, a Queen of Hell, for reasons of her own, has married two human transgender girls she is taking through the Hell of Lust to reach their honeymoon destination.  At the foreboding Chang’an Castle, Penny and Chas have been told to open Duchess Fang’s wedding gifts to their Domina, Queen Channah, while the succubae and qahramanat watch.  NOW:

About Men, Girls, and Dogs

Chas and Penny knelt near the center of the hetaraslakos, surrounded by their four counterparts kneeling in saddle position supporting the girls’ four superiors, and began carefully removing the red paper wrappings from the packages without damaging them.

Esmeray laughed harshly.  “You are girls now,” she decided, amused and slightly contemptuous.  “A man, like a dog, would just rip the paper off to see what was inside.”  And then she laughed again.  “And so would I!”

“You’re admitting you’re a dog?” Hong asked demurely, but not kindly.

Minutes after spoiling to initiate a fight, Esmeray casually waved a hand, unphased in the slightest by an insult that in some cultures was considered quite severe.  “Like a dog.  Even being like a man is better than… this,” she added, as the girls blushed three different shades of red.

“I would do the same,” Channah admitted, causing Hong to redden in turn, as Fang glared at her.  “And I am in no way like a dog.”

“Certainly not, Domina!” Hong agreed insistently, in a strangled voice, and even Esmeray had the presence of mind to murmur her agreement, without taking her eyes off the packages.

Turning her corrective gaze on Esmeray, Channah continued:  “But you are both right, we have worked very hard to support Chas’s and Penny’s development into the demure and proper young ladies they were meant to be.  Girls, I selected Esmeray for you for many reasons, but none of those reasons were to unwind your ladylike decorum and deportment.  You are my wives and I wanted you because of who you are, including the sweet and feminine young ladies you have become.”

“Yes, thank you, Domina,” they agreed, still pink.

“I know you’ve endured worse from your… stepbrothers, who have never understood your path.  Worse, because they meant it hurtfully.  And while I understand their contempt, and Esmeray’s amusement, and even share them to some extent, I never want you to change.  Promise me you will always be my sweet young girls.”

“We promise, Domina,” they murmured, staring fixedly at the contents of their packages but making no move to remove them, their ears burning.

Finally turning her gaze on the girls, she continued:  “Esmeray has not had the opportunities and training Hong has enjoyed all her life.  And I find her inappropriate candor delightfully refreshing, at least among us ladies and girls.  Never in the Show, where all my operatives have important parts to play.”  Her face softening slightly, she glanced back at Esmeray.  “To the extent they can.  But her views on your young womanhood are not among the reasons I chose her for you.  You will of course accept her insults, because she is your Qahramanah.  Try even to enjoy them as part of your training.”

And when she paused, the girls, thus prompted, managed to choke out:  “Yes, Domina.”

“But let her be the man.  I think part of her soul is one, as much as yours are female.  Her male part is necessary for your proper training, but being men—or even boys—is not for you.”  Esmeray, managing to look slightly discomfited herself, nodded as if trying to memorize something important.  Then Channah grinned, becoming jocular again:  “So get on with it, you big girls!”  As Esmeray clapped delightedly.

The Arts of the Spring

“Classic of the White Madam, and Other Spring Palace Illustrations,” Penny read the title of the elegantly-bound book in front of her, in confusion.  “Arts of the Bedchamber,” Chas read hers, her squeaky speech suggesting considerably less confusion.

As soon as they read the titles, Channah burst out laughing as Fang and Hong tittered politely.  “You had them translated into Latin, of all languages?!”

“I understand Latin is becoming a liturgical language in the West.  It seemed more amusing—and marginally less barbaric—than English,” Fang explained.  “Also, knowing barbarians lack subtlety, I asked my corrupted Jesuit missionary to render the words so vulgar and explicit even your girls would be able to understand them.”

“You’re bad,” Channah snickered.  “Look at their faces!” she broke into peals of laughter as the girls, reaching the cover illustration inside, looked like they would crawl into the little packages and wrap themselves up in the used red paper if they could.  “I love how sweet and polite they are!  Esmeray, surely even you can see how charming they are.”

“Perhaps—in moments like these,” she conceded, also enjoying herself.  “They’re so embarrassed!”

“You’d think they were more innocent than they are!  A week ago, yes.  But in the past week…”

“These are translated from the older texts, pre-Confucian in origin.  I’m confident they haven’t tried a twentieth of what is discussed in them,” Fang replied.

“I’m sure you’re right!  Oh, these are perfect wedding gifts, Fang.  Close them up, girls.”

“For such modest girls, they’re very attentive, Domina,” Hong observed.

“They certainly are!  Good students, I should think.”  She clapped her hands sharply.  “Close them!  I don’t want you seeing anything quite yet.  We shall explore these thoroughly all week!”

Channah, Fang, Hong, and even the four Hongettes from their crouched positions, laughed at the idea, while the girls reluctantly obeyed their Domina and set the packages back in the boxes.

“We have a book like this,” Esmeray admitted.  “I have never seen it, but I have heard it mentioned.”

“One Thousand and One Nights!”  Channah nodded thoughtfully.  “Yes, I should look into getting them a copy of that, which they should be able to read in the original.  And perhaps the Indian and ancient Egyptian texts on the subject.”

“Now, girls,” Hong continued, “Rise, set the books by your Domina, and each of you take one of the remaining gifts.”  When they had, Hong, with barely a pause, said:  “Chas, kneel before your Domina with the package.  As close as you can get without crowding her.”  Hong paused, looking questioningly at Fang, who asked:

“With permission, majesty, although the last gift is for your benefit, we had it in mind parts of it might be used, and all of them at least shared, by your girls’ qahramanah.  Would you prefer to open it…?”

“Not at all!  By all means, Penny, kneel before Esmeray as Chas is kneeling before me.” 

“But—this is the largest gift of all!” Esmeray protested as Penny maneuvered it in front of her.  And then, weighing it with one hand without taking it from Penny:  “And the heaviest by far, I would guess.”

“You go first then, child, while I watch,” Channah decided.

“Then hold tight, girlie!” Esmeray cautioned, before ripping the paper with a single swipe of her fingernails, then using her hands to tear open one side of the package instead of opening the top, while the other women laughed at her raw enthusiasm and earnestness.

“Her genuineness does have a… refreshing quality, Domina,” Hong conceded politely.

She started pulling gorgeous, gold-studded, tooled purple leather straps covered with gold buckles and rings, from the box which she and the girls at first stared at in confusion, before Esmeray suddenly tightened like a watchspring, gasped in recognition, and threw them violently back in the box, looking horrified.

Literature Section “06-70 Dance of the Qahramanat V”Part 70 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1197 words—Accompanying Images:  1623-1626—Published 2025-04-22—©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.