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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Second!” Rivqah insisted.

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

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

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

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

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

“I—I—” Channah scrambled for words. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I consent,” Húanglóng agreed quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But what?” Fang asked distinctly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In so many ways,” Rivqah snorted.

“You have no idea,” Channah concurred.

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

“I can see that!” Tifaret agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Explicit version containing masturbation, orgasm, cunnilingus, and consensualnonconsent themes at 06-122[X] Arousing a Succubus at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Chastity and Penance, naked, vulnerable, and bound, completely traumatized by their recent, total sensory isolation, have been led by Channah into a place of darkness silence and sterility.  They plead with her not to leave them here while she runs a quick errand.  NOW:

She whispered, her voice cracking with emotion:  “First you want me and love me.  Then you frustrate me and try to thwart my plans… and now you show pathetic need and fear?  To me?!  The Queen of the Succubae?”  She asked incredulously, shuddering and closing her eyes, feeling their fear spike to panic.  “Ooohhh…” she hissed slowly, pressing her hands between her legs.  “You poor girls are terrified… of me, and of losing me.  All at once!  While I’m still mad at you!  Ungh!

She opened her eyes, staring deeply into theirs.  “You girls are perfectThank you, you silly cows!”  And as she felt their hopes start to rise:  “All you had to do was behave like men, just a little bit!  Show some courage!  Show some independence!  But no… you’re just teases!  I’m gonna mess you girls up so hard you’re going to learn to lose control from fear and arousal at the same time.”  Then she laughed, shaking as their hopes crashed back into confusion about what they had done, and terror of what she might do to them… outweighed only by their desperation for her to stay with them in the Honeycomb and protect them.  “You two are quite mad, to tease and enrage a succubus that way.  When are you going to learn your lessons?”  She shook her head, incredulously.  “My lessons, that you waste!

Pulling something small from her pocket, she approached Chastity, staring down at her, ignoring their blubbering, confused, frightened questions—well, not the emotion of them, that she lapped up.  Only the content.  Then Channah stepped over the beam on the floor, to which Chastity was tied, one high-heeled boot and then the other, delicately and sluttily at once; before dropping to sit on the bar, her crotch right in Chastity’s face, locked in front of her by the ring fastened to Chas’s collar.

“Bitches!  SILENCE!” she commanded, her thunderous voice swatting theirs down to muteness as quickly and effectively as a professional boxer might put an elementary-school thumb-wrestler in his place with a knockout punch.  “You’ve only got yourselves to blame for your current predicament, after all.  Don’t come whining to me now!  I’m dying to start our honeymoon… it’s all I’m thinking of!  Can you imagine what it’s like to be a Queen, with so many responsibilities, everybody’s boss, always being expected to have all the answers and make all the right decisions, and take care of all the little weaklings around her, all the time?  ALL I’ve been fantasizing about since our wedding is our seclusion, away from the world, away from other people, away from any chance of risk or harm, where I don’t have to teach you and guide you and correct you and monitor you and discipline you, only love you and be loved!  I would have thought you’d want that too!  Instead of just…” she threw her hands up in frustration:  “Prolonging this whole affair by forcing me to interrupt my work—again!  And delay our special time of safety and love together—again!  Just so that I can punish you… that’s right, you guessed it, AGAIN!”  By now she sounded furious, almost on the verge of tears:  “You’re so selfish and thoughtless!”

And the second both girls started frantically trying to apologize and plead she raised one insistent hand, instantly cowing them back into scared silence.  “Are you girls scared of this place?”  She asked, lip rolling in an exaggerated pout.  “What’s that?” she asked their silence.  “Yes or no.  Are my widdle babies scared for mommy to leave them alone in the dark?”

“Yes, Domina!” they admitted reluctantly.  “At least,” Penny tried to explain, “I’d like to get used to it, or… have a little more time after the—you know…”  While Chas burst out: “Please stay with us!”

“Awww…. So sweet.  I can’t even stay mad at you.  I have an idea so Mommy can take care of you, while Mommy’s also doing all the work, and taking all the efforts.  As usual!  I have just the thing to protect you from your fears about this sacred place.  Mommy will make it all go away.  I brought these just in case you girls might want them.”  She placed her hands over Chastity’s ears, and with a final, contemptuous twitch of a smile, pressed the magical earplugs into her girl’s ear canals.

Chastity cried out.

It was the kind of cry actors practiced for years, hoping for their chance to use it in a reputation-making dramatic scene.  And Channah howled back like a rabid wolf, throwing her soggy dress over Chas’s head and grabbing her hair, crying and cursing and nearly barking with passion as she did.  “You’re the Jezebels!” she whimpered, then shivered as Chastity’s screams fell into wracking sobs and pleas.

Right then.  That was it.

Channah managed it again, only a little one, but the kind that’s so intense it’s nearly unbearable because you’ve already come so many times your body is raw and primed for it. 

Chastity was still sobbing when Channah finally shook her head to gather her thoughts, stood, and stepped over Chastity, and then Penny, standing over her back facing the cube and drinking in her big-word, long-winded apologies and pleas.

Her high heels brought her ankles up to a height equal with Penny’s temples, and she rose on the toes of her boots to slam her ankles into the girl to get her attention and silence her. “I want to discuss this persistent problem further tomorrow, and during the coming week.  I do want to take care of you girls, but I also have many responsibilities as the Queen and I can’t spend all of my time coddling and protecting you!  I have to take care of everybody else, too!  I was hoping you girls, with your free time and leisured aristocratic lives, could help me!  You’re my wives!  Don’t you want to be sweet to me the way I want to be to you?!”

“Yes!  I promise you we do!  We’re most sincere, our beloved Domina!  I’m sorry!”  Penny wailed ashamedly; almost histrionically.  “We didn’t mean to interrupt you, Domina.”

Hush!  What did I just say?!” she spoke, crossly, catching Penny off guard and watching how she flinched as if she had physically hit them, looking hurt but also guilty about upsetting her.  And… she smelled it like a drug, another hit of the addictive whisper of fearlovearousal:  uncertainty, and worry, about what punishment she might inflict on them if she fancied it; but also, even stronger, about how much she wanted to please Chastity, and how miserable she felt that she was failing in that.

“Put your lips to work.  Your sisterwife has already taken care of my orchid, but you can kiss my boots, baby.”

“Thank you, Domina,” she gushed, seizing it as an opportunity to show her apology and regret again, lips and tongue slobbering on the dirty toes of Channah’s boots.

“Such a good girl when she wants to be,” Channah said significantly.

And the last thing Penny heard as the earplugs entered her ear canals, before real and pervasive darkness, the complete, oppressive silence of death, and the utter loss of even the opium smell of her Mistress and the dusty flavor of her boots, settled over her… was the sound of her own weak, scared, desperate pleas.

Literature Section “06-122[X] Arousing a Succubus”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 122 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1230 words::Explicit 1248 words—Accompanying Images:  1951-1955—Published 2025-06-21—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Once she was satisfied with every garter, she nodded.  “Now stand like ladies, backs straight, take your other stocking, and sit on the couch.”

She watched as they scurried over to the sofa and sat there, looking at her expectantly.  She didn’t disappoint:  “Now, leave one foot on the floor again and pull the other one up on the edge of the sofa, heel on the cushion, toes hanging off the edge.  I don’t know what you’re blushing for.  You both have panties on already.  Imagine if you didn’t!”  She stepped closer to them, stroking their hair, loving the way Penny gasped and turned her chin to help Channah run her fingers down her cheek.  “Roll up the other stocking, without moving your legs.  Try to keep your backs straight and your shoulders back.  And when you’re ready, you’re going to slip the stocking over your toes.  As soon as you have the ball of your foot in the stocking, you’re going to straighten that leg—”

“What?!”

“You heard me, missy, straighten it and point your toe as high as you can manage while you roll the stocking on.”  The girls giggled, not finding this nearly as easy as the standing position, and Channah laughed at their efforts. 

“Even after all the training you’ve had, you’re not very limber, girls.  We are going to work on that, I promise you.  But,” she allowed reluctantly as she stepped back from them, “not too terribly bad, all things considered.  Next gift!”

Finishing Touches

The next boxes held tall, sleek pumps of fine white leather, with three almost gladiatorial parallel ankle straps accented with golden brass studs and buckles.

“They’re beautiful,” Penny marveled.  “But I’m afraid I’m going to fall on my face!  They’re so tall!”

Channah laughed.  “Practice makes perfect, girls, and I will expect you to practice.  As you’ll see…”

Chas, absent-mindedly touched her collar and blushed.  “They match!”  Her observation surprised Penny, who imitated her automatically, both girls making “O” faces like little dolls, while Channah smirked.

“They certainly do.”  Picking up the discarded boxes, she set them behind her, making the girls curious what they had missed.  “As you’ll see in a moment.  Now, I want you to practice putting your shoes on the same way you did your stockings.  First, sitting on the sofa with your leg raised delicately, go on… not too bad… Chas, try smoothing your stocking with one hand while holding the shoe in place with the other, before buckling it up.  Penny, no cheating!  All three buckles with your foot in the air!  Oh, that’s not graceful!”  she tried very hard to look disapproving, and failed, snorting at Penny’s efforts.

“Um… Domina,” Chas looked discomfited again.  “The top strap…”

“Indeed,” she agreed.  The first two straps had buckles no different from those of a tiny little belt.  The topmost, however, had only a “U”-shaped wicket on the mouth and a series of slits on the tongue, with no way to fasten them together.  “You girls need to get better about checking the boxes thoroughly.  These shoes really do match your collars.”  She held up a small gold padlock and key.

“Domina,” Chas managed hoarsely as she smiled archly.  “Here, lift your foot onto my lap.  Point your toes and twist your leg so your toes point towards your midline, it’s much more graceful,” she assured the girls, snapping the lock shut, and then repeating the process with Penny, her hands feeling warm and intimate on their legs.

“They’re like little collars around our ankles,” Penny agreed, looking ambivalently at her leg where it rested on Channah.

“They are!  You girls are so cute.  Let’s see how you do standing, with one foot on the table, as before…”

“Only now we can hardly balance, Domina!”

“That’s not my problem,” she feigned innocence.  “Come on, show me what refined young ladies you are.  Don’t fall!  Penny honey, hold Chas first while she finishes, then she can hold you.  Don’t hold her like she’s a chamber pot!  Face her, stand against her, and hold her hips to give her some stability!”  Channah ‘helped’ by positioning Penny with her crotch tight against Chas’s hip, making both girls blush, the way she was struggling to smother a smile belying the idea it was an innocent exercise.  “Don’t be shy.  Much better!  Now Chas will feel safe!  Feeling safe is a good foundation for feeling sexy.”

Channah let the third tiny gold lock dangle from her fingers, offering it to Chas, who snapped it in place with his head bowed, not meeting her eyes; and then it was time for them to reverse roles.  “Only now, Chas is even less stable than before.  Which makes it more important than ever that you stand tightly together for stability.”

When they were done, she could see they were hesitant to move and laughed merrily at their worried expressions.  “If you can make it to the sofa, you can sit there and I will even bring you your last two gifts.”

“Oh, Domina…” the girls breathed reverently, their suspicions of what the last box would hold at once confirmed and exceeded.  Each box held a gorgeous white brocade dress, with the same gold pattern of medlars and the same cut as Channah’s scarlet dress.  “We match!” with great hesitance and difficulty showing how moved they were, they rose to their feet and hugged her, kissing her on each cheek, each girl depending on Channah’s stability for their own even as they were trying to thank her.

And the three of them did match, beautifully.  Once the girls were dressed they stood together, flanking their Domina, admiring themselves in the mirror.  Even with their cripplingly high heels, the girls were still half a head shorter than Channah; the vibrance of her scarlet and black drawing the eye away from the girls.  Their Queen was the peacock to their peahens, as was only fitting.  But there was no doubt, all three of them looked amazing, and either of the girls on her own quite regal.  All three dresses were beautiful and special temples, celebrating their wearers.

“Fortunately for you,” Channah began, “I had my servants stock up the palace already.  I can see you won’t be able to do much carrying in those shoes!”

“And we certainly cannot kick them off, Domina,” Penny blushed.

“These dresses are made to go with the shoes, so don’t you dare take them off while wearing them or the hems will drag on the floor.”

“Yes, Domina.”

“Now, gather your shifts and half-shifts in one box apiece, that’s all you’ll need for the week.  Or,” she proposed mischievously, “If you prefer, you can leave them behind.”

“No, Domina!” they wailed with mock seriousness.

Literature Section “06-54 Hella Honeymoon XI”Part 54 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1125 words—Accompanying Images:  1569-1571—Published 2025-04-07—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.