Tag: humiliation

2155 07-33 Queen of Blood
2156 07-33 Rich, Raw, and Rotten
2157 07-33 Decadent as Sin
2158 07-33 Channah’s “ScorpiosKiss” profile on eHarmony
2159 07-33 Channah’s “Verybadgirl666” public profile photo on Tinder
2160 07-33 Channah’s “Man’s Ruin” public profile photo on Match.com
2161 07-33 Channah’s “DevoutSubmissiveMary” profile pic on ChristianMingle.com
2162 07-33 Channah’s “HardWorkingObedientBreeder” profile pic on SecondWife.com
2163 07-33 Channah’s “UsefulObedientUnicorn” profile pic on SecondWife.com image

2164 07-33 Fang’s “FreeLovePartyGirl” profile on Jiayuan.com
2165 07-33 Fang’s “ZeroBridePriceAllWorkersCompanion” profile photo on Jiayuan.com
2166 07-33 a succubus catfishing as “BayouBassBeauty” on PlentyofFish.com
2167 07-33 a succubus catfishing as “SouthernComfort” on PlentyofFish.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ymph,” she answered, nodding reverently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Penny?” Chastity answered hoarsely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was… so unnecessarily and deliberately cruel!

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

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

She.

Was.

Damned.

By.

Love:

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

It was just a fact.

She knew it.

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

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

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

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

And made her victim acknowledge and in fact proclaim it!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2146 07-32 Aztec Feast
2147 07-32 It’s what’s for dinner
2148 07-32 The OTHER other white meat
2149 07-32 Voracious Eater
2150 07-32 Are you kidding?  I *LOVE* sissies!
2151 07-32 Boys melt in my mouth or my hands or anywhere I damn well tell them to!
2152 07-32 You wanna play with fire?  Then come play with me…
2153 07-32 So good… I bet I can’t eat just one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To our Domina!”  Chas echoed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Venice!”  Penny reacted.

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

“The pox?” Penny asked, looking shocked.

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

“How can that–?” Penny began.

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

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

“Like ancient Greece?” Penny asked in surprise.

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

“So it’s true…” Penny murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?” Chas asked skeptically.

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

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

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

“What?”

“Something, I don’t know… safer?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No!  No, I’m sor—” Penny began.

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

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

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

2141 07-31 Have I got a treat for you boys… see anything you like?
2142 07-31 Whipping her boys into a frenzy with blood
2143 07-31 Is anybody hungry for Maltese date cakes (imqarets)?
2144 07-31 Channah protecting her sissies from the Jaguars
2145 07-31 Channah chaperoning her wives before the beasts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where is she now?”

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

“I commend your enthusiasm, boys, but can we be sure she hasn’t drowned?  We do actually need her.”

“We tested the depth with a rod and there’s only three or four feet of muck down there.  We tied her to a rope just long enough to let her drop in chest-high.”  He snickered.  “Although we may have given her the impression, ah, she would be left to dehydrate and drown down there.” Cutter and Martin snorted derisively.

“As much as I like the idea of leaving her there a few more days, I think her time—and Eleanor’s—would be better spent training with Esmeray before the ritual.  And further punishment is always available in, you know, Hell,” Channah snickered.  “No risk of her avoiding what she deserves there.  So tomorrow, pull her out, make Eleanor help her clean off.  And I mean, clean, clean, clean, first in the creek and then when she can be allowed in the servants’ area, in a barrel of warm soapy water.  I won’t have her stinking up my bath at Fensmere, let alone my domain, with the filth of Earth!”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the boys agreed.

“I want you waiting with her and with Eleanor in the Satanikoklus at noon sharp.  I want both of them hogtied for transport.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“Kai, inform the duty Timorite at Chang’an that I want her to pick the jawari up from the Satanikoklus and deliver them through the Honeycomb to Esmeray at Sademtsaowah.  Esmeray, inform the duty Timorite at Sademtsaowah to expect the girls tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Esmeray responded.  “Will—if I may ask—Will Penny and Chas be returned to me before the next ritual so that we can try full rehearsals?  Or should I prepare for deeper training with just Eleanor and Frances?”

Something about her manner or gestures, or those of Channah, must have pointed out the girls kneeling on the floor within the visitors’ field of view, because Roger gasped and then burst out laughing.  “Wait—no.  That’s impossible.  Those cannot be our Penny and Chas!”

“They are indeed,” Channah laughed, as the girls’ bullies made sounds of incredulity and astonishment.  “Girls, get up on your knees and grab your new boobies for your boys!”

Scarlet and practically dying inside, but in no way willing to risk angering Channah, and mindful of her command to be enthusiastic little sluts for her, both girls rose up, sitting back on their haunches with their knees still spread.  Chastity, excited even as she was nervous, artfully emphasized her breasts, pushing them up while she grabbed them at the base.  Penny, self-consciously, put her hands modestly over her breasts.

“Princess!  I didn’t tell you to cover your tits modestly!”  Channah laughed even harder.  “I said ‘grab’!  As in, show off!  Put your hands under your breasts, cup them and squeeze them to make them stretch and swell and stick out further!  Go on, no place for reticence when you’re a whore!”

The ashamed girl did as she commanded, to a chorus of rude whoops and catcalls from their bullies and Kai.  Channah noticed with satisfaction that Esmeray was able to watch neutrally, only the way she shifted uncomfortably betraying her ambivalence about what she was witnessing.

“Now turn around, away from the boys, spread your knees, put your shoulders down on the ground, and jiggle those big round beautiful bottoms and hot pussies for your mamalik!”

Penny and Chas, whimpering and moaning with embarrassment and fear (and for Chas, just a little bit of defiant excitement) obeyed, setting off another round of even more enthusiastic responses.

“You’ve been training them hard, Your Majesty,” Cutter gushed.  “Their asses are so beautiful and bruised….”

“I have, and they are,” Channah agreed flirtatiously.

“And they’re obedient as hell,” Roger growled.  “Damn, I mean, Your Majesty, I don’t suppose your offer to fuck them is still open, now that they’re real girls?”

Penny couldn’t help herself:  she raised her head to see her Domina, who was looking sly and thoughtful.  Desperately she shook her head and whispered under her breath pleading with her Domina—more like, willing her Domina without the courage to ask her—to say no. 

Channah shook her finger slowly and sexily in a “no” signal to Penny and smiled evilly, looking Penny straight in the eye and seeing her swallow nervously, before she looked back up at her vistors and asked:  “Are you sure?  I thought you were too much of a ‘man’ to fuck my little girls.”

“Well—that’s when they were fake girls, Your Majesty.  I apologize—I meant no disrespect.  To you.  No disrespect to you.  Sissy boys in dresses.  But now… heaven above, they’re completely female.  In every respect!”

“Their minds are unchanged.  Their souls…”

Roger made a dismissive noise.  “I’m not planning to take their souls, Your Majesty.  Those are irrelevant.  I want to possess their new bodies.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Channah agreed snarkily, as her bullies laughed.  “What are you working on right now?”

“We’re learning, Your Majesty, as you commanded, as much as we can about how the manor operates, so we can help you manage it.  But we don’t actually have any duty assignments right now.”

“Continue learning until you leave, and don’t breathe a word of any of my plans.  When we return to Fensmere next week, Roger, I will make you my Castellan.  Cutter will be in charge of the mansion and its staff, and Martin the head of the field staff.  Don’t let those titles go to your heads, boys—I’m not picking you because any of you have a reputation for effective management or work habits or dutifulness even good sense.”  She laughed shortly and deliberately insultingly.  “Don’t interfere in the actual running of anything—leave that to the Butler, the Housemaid, and the other senior staff.  You’re to be in charge of…”  She rolled the last word around in her mouth, savoring it:  “Discipline.”

“Oh, yes,” the three bullies laughed, sounding as if they were hugging and clapping one another on the shoulders in celebration. 

“You can use your positions to get revenge on everyone who mistreated you in the past, but only in the context of your duties.  Believe me—you’ll find more pleasure in their fear, awaiting your vindictiveness—than tearing up my household immediately.  And my household must run well.  A scared and miserable staff is fine—delightful, really—but the laundry must be cleaned properly, the house must be kept dusted and polished, the food must remain delicious and interesting, the servers polite—in short, the Sun itself must continue to shine out of my ass over that house, so that my life is as convenient and pleasant as possible, and my guests, from the lowliest deliveryman to the King himself, continue to be awed and amazed by the splendor of my mansion.  Do you understand?!”

“Yes, Domina,” they agreed, sounding more muted.

“The reason I want you in charge is for operational security, not the actual operation of the household itself.  I’m giving you the three highest positions in the house—after my Governess, Sindonie, who will remain in charge of the noble children, as you can imagine—so you can enforce discipline and security on the household, or at least, all of the commoners within it.  Without ever telling anyone there are new rules, or explaining them out loud, you will build and enforce a new regime at Fensmere.  A culture of obedience to me, and silence about my business.  I’m already aware there are the vaguest rumors circulating out in Cambridgeshire, and perhaps even further afield, about… changes people have noticed to the household.  Even questions about me.  Well, we’re going to stop that process when you return, so that my Sipahi ranging the countryside can continue to stoke the rumors of demons abroad in the countryside.  Your duties for capturing and disciplining escapees will expand from my slaves to include the entire staff and population of the manor and the village.  Once someone joins the manor or the village, they will remain there until they are buried, unless they receive my leave to depart.  Only trusted staff will be allowed off the premises at all; and then they will be sent in groups.  Staff and their families will not share any of the business of the manor, or the village, with visitors or tradesmen, beyond the minimum necessary to accomplish their business.  And, most importantly, when the King arrives, our staff will have no doubt about where their loyalties need to lie.  I will instruct my tailor in Sademtsaowah to help you dress appropriately for your work.”

Then, changing tone:  “Esmeray, as I’m sure you’ve gathered, training Eleanor—and especially Frances—will be different than training these sweet, compliant girls.”

“Yes, Domina.  Although I’m surprised… as more-experienced jawari, I thought they would be fully-broken.”

“Oh,” Channah waved her hand dismissively.  “In many ways, they are.  But they were always trained differently than my two girls.  Or, more precisely, my two girls were always trained differently than any of the other jawari.  In this generation, anyway.  That’s why I wanted you to meet and work and play with them first, so you would see them for who they are, not lump them in with the other rabble.”  She laughed sharply, and not entirely nicely.  “Boys—I need you to pay attention to me, not my little sluts’ bottoms.  Girls—” she bent forward, addressing them, “—Keep your knees on the floor but rest your arms on my dais, straight out in front of you like you’re holding on for dear life, and worship my boots with your tongues and lips!”

“Yes, Domina,” they hurried to obey, seeming to make Channah gasp with excitement at the sight of their distressed, worried, sorrowful faces… and to compel her to ram the toes, and occasionally the heels, of her boots harder into their vulnerable mouths while she continued her conversation with her visitors.

“Why don’t you boys come through to Sademtsaowah with your prisoners tomorrow, to provide security for Eleanor and Frances while Esmeray begins their training.  They’ll be kept in the kennels at night; but whenever they’re not locked in the kennels, you’re to monitor and contain them so they can’t get away from Eleanor.  Don’t help Eleanor train them unless she asks—it’s her job to be their qahramanah, not yours—but do be of assistance to her however she asks in handling or training her charges.  Kai, please find quarters for them near Esmeray.  And then…” she shrugged, visibly delighted that she was able to tease at least three boys and two girls with diametrically-opposed desires, with a single taunt.  She shrugged.  “Depending on how well-behaved my girls have been, and how helpful you’ve been…. we’ll see about introducing my three bully-boys more… intimately to my new girls.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” the three Englishmen laughed celebratorily, even as Penny and Chas, too stunned to even take it all in, buried their heads in their hands, making little sobbing-whining noises too primitive and instinctual to have a name.  “Oh!  And, ah…. One of you let Big George know I want him to come along with you.  My Castellan has a couple of projects requiring his expertise.  Is there anything else?” she asked, giving them a moment before continuing.  “Then carry on with your assignments.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Majesty!” they responded.

Channah clapped twice:  “aitrudhum!” (“Dismiss them!”) and the light in the room changed slightly.  Whether it was darker, or the quality of the light had changed when the sterile bluish ghosts had disappeared, leaving the warmer, yellower, indirect Sunlight from the garden alone to illuminate the room, neither girl could tell for certain from her perspective hanging at Channahs’s feet.  Leaning forward, knowing she had their full attention, Channah purred.  “You girls look so cute and sweet and submissive, sucking my boot tips and heels and looking up at me so sadly and pleadingly.  Ha!” she clapped and shook herself with delight.  “I think you both know you’re going to have to be very good—practically perfect—if you want to avoid the attentions of Roger and his bully-boys entirely, don’t you?  So better suck up your very hardest!  And at this moment, I mean that very literally!  Open your little pieholes wider, go on, wider, streeeettttcch those lips out and push your faces as far forward as you can on the tips of my boots.  Oh, come on… you especially, Penny, with your well-known big mouth!  I want to see you swallow half of that boot.  I want to hear you—yes!  Woo-hoo!”  She clapped with glee as Penny—looking like a fish with its mouth stretched by hooks—started to make gargling and gagging sounds as the toe of Channah’s boot started tickling the back of her throat.  “PUSH, BITCH, PUSH!”  Screaming as loudly as she could at Penny while leaning as close down towards her foot as she could, she fairly seethed with joy as Penny’s face turned red and her throat and mouth began involuntarily contracting in an instinctive attempt to clear her throat.

Resting her chin on her fists, Channah enjoyed watching the girls suffering and debasing themselves to please her for what seemed forever, before her smile grew even wider and slyer.  “This is the best honeymoon ever!” she barked.  “I’d ask you why you came to disturb your Domina’s important business, but I don’t want this moment—this pathetic display—to end!”  She giggled nastily.  Setting aside her crown and her scepter in a leisurely fashion, she continued:  “If you’re done with your chores, nod your heads with my boots in your mouths.  Ha ha!  Excellent!  If you’ve bathed yourselves, nod your heads.  Good!  And if you’ve served dinner in the dining room?  Veeeerrry good, darlings.  Oh!  I have a fun game!  Without removing my boots from your mouths—or biting my toes!—I want each girl to remove her boot.  You can use your hands to pull them off, but your mouth must stay wrapped around that boot, and that boot needs to remain deep inside your mouth in gag-a-bitch position, until you’ve removed it entirely, and I accept it from you.  Oh ho ho, that’s cute… look how hard you gurls are working on those boots.  You two look really ree-diculous!” she guffawed.  “Like a couple of Maltese puppies down there, wearing only your dog-collars.”  When they removed her boots nearly simultaneously, she laughed again:  “A tie!  Good doggies!  Such committed, devoted little puppies…” she purred, rubbing her knuckles under their chins before taking her boots and setting them aside. “Penny, your first chore tomorrow is to polish my boots.  I want them gleaming!” 

“Yes, Domina,” she answered, hanging her head in shame at how Channah was making fun of them.

“No time for your pouting,” she chided.  “Worship my feet.  While they’re still warm and layered with the smell of leather.  I’ve had a long, stressful day while you two have been cleaning without a care in the world.  Go on, use your mouths and your hands to relax me.”  She observed them, sighing and relaxing back in her throne as they kissed her heels, sucked her toes, rubbed the balls of her feet, and caressed her arches.  “Oh… that feels good.  You girls are naturals.  I may need to keep you two with me to de-stress me at the end of each day… mm….”

When she felt her breathing deepen and slow, she ordered them:  “That’s enough for now, sweeties.  Now put your arms back on the dais, stretched out toward me, armpits on the edge of the dais, that’s good.  And use your toes to brace your legs and knees right where they are.  I’m going to put pressure on your faces, and I don’t want you to fold or slide.”  Ignoring their confused expressions, she waited for them to move their arms and feet into the positions she had commanded.  Then she stepped on their faces with the soles of her feet, relaxing a moment, feeling their breath tickling the soft skin in her arches, while she untied her robe and slipped it from her shoulders.  Then, bracing her feet on their faces and her shoulders on the back of her throne, she raised her hips and slid her robe out from under her, settling back down and draping it gently in its accustomed resting place over the back of her throne.  Finally  she put her feet back down on the dais and slid her hips forward off her throne, dropping into a squat immediately above and in front of them, her beautiful bare legs emerging from the slits cut up to her hips on both sides of the simple tube dress.

“Stand up!  Go on!” And when they had, she rested her arms around their necks, with her hands on their shoulders, using them to steady her as she jumped off the dais to the floor.  Devastating Penny with a flirtatious look, she flicked her head back towards her dais and commanded:  “Get my heels for me, bitch.”  Taking advantage of her most-vulnerable moment, when she was stretched forward as far as she could reach to touch and pull on Channah’s mules, she slapped her ass.  And as she took the high-heeled sandals from her and set them on the ground, using their shoulders for support again, she slid into the sandals, kissing each girl quickly before leading them towards the dining room.

Literature Section “07-31 The Naked Debutantes”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 31 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4316 words—Accompanying Images:  2141-2145—Published 2025-08-03—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, stupid choices, evil, harm, danger, death, mythical creatures, idiots, and criminals. Don’t try, believe, or imitate them or any of it.

2135 07-29 Boys do anything I ask.  Then I eat them for breakfast
2136A 07-29 A perfect height and attitude
2136B 07-30 After Channah finishes with her
2136C 07-29 When Penny can finally process what Channah made her do
2136—The 3 Stages of Breaking Penny
2137 07-29 Name something you would never, ever POSSIBLY agree to do.  I DARE you
2138A 07-29 I *love* that you accepted that, bitch
2138B 07-29 You’re still not even sure what you did, are you?
2138—Schadenfreude

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

Explicit version containing oralsex, fellatio, asstomouth, pica, ATM, filth, cleanup, cumeating, orgasm, watersports, bullying, punishment, overpowering, and consensualnonconsent themes at 07-29X Penny Learns Her Lesson at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah tested Penny by pushing her limits for pain and, satisfied and elated to feel vindicated, has just topped the hell out of her.  NOW:

Even as Channah’s ecstasy slowly ebbed, her laughter and her emotional high were such she kept shaking and shuddering.  She giddily turned her head perpendicular to Penny’s and covering her mouth with her own again, laughing into Penny’s mouth even as Penny was crying into hers, their seal so perfect the only air that escaped from either female’s mouth made a raspberry sound that just made Channah laugh harder.

“Oh, Penny…” she managed when she finally disengaged, tickled immediately by the pitiful noise somewhere between actual sobbing, gasping for breath, and simple pouting coming out of Penny’s listless mouth; and the way she had her eyes closed and her neck relaxed, her head lolling backward.  Combined with the helplessness of her bound arms and legs, abandoning any effort to control the only parts of her body she could control, represented a total and unconditional surrender that turned Channah on so much she had a secondary spasm right then, closer to an instinctual movement than a deliberate one.  “OH!  Penny honey I own your pretty little body and your hungry little soul, don’t I?”

“Body and soul, Domina,” Penny mourned, completely passive and exhausted.  “You’ve taken everything…” she whimpered, feeling spent and consumed and used hard.

“I’m sorry, but not quite, sugarbear,” she kind-of-commiserated with the girl.

“There’s nothing left, I swear it, Domina.  You have conquered me completely.”

“Fuck are you trying to get me started again?!  You’re a shameless and limitless hussy, aren’t you?”  Lying back on the black pillow, stretching her arms and groaning with satisfaction, she then propped herself up on her elbows and began rubbing her feet over Penny’s soaked-wet belly.  “You forgot about clean-up,” she reminded Penny in a singsong voice.  “You first!”  She shoved her toes into Penny’s passive mouth.  “No, no, lazybones—you start licking and sucking or I’ll—” she crammed that foot down Penny’s throat as hard as she could while she used the toes of her other foot to seize and brutally pinch Penny, eliciting an immediate and satisfying shriek, and an energetic and submissive working of her lips and tongue all over Channah’s feet.  “Ohhhhh…. such a diligent little sugar bear!  I’ll bet you just love your treat, don’t you?”

“Yes, Domina,” she repeated, obediently and brokenly.  “I do love my treat.”

“Which part do you like, sweetie?”

“I like both parts, Domina.  Very much.  Thank you for feeding me.”  Her shame and tears were intoxicating and mesmerizing to Channah.

“Gooood gurl!” she complimented Penny, her voice vibrating with her strong emotion.  “That’s the way, sweetie.  You just keep licking up that nasty mixture and when you’re done, I have a special reward for you!” she giggled.

“Yes, Domina,” Penny sounded utterly demoralized.

“And because you like it so much, I’m going to make a special effort to serve you your favorite loser cocktail whenever I allow you your release.  What do you say to that, puddin’?”

“Thank you for serving me my favorite loser cocktail, Domina.”

“I’m not convinced, you sound a bit lackluster and insincere.  Are you lying to me?”

“No, Domina!” Penny cried out, activated by her fear response, the intensity of her response making her sound extra pathetic.  “I’m so grateful Domina, for introducing me to loser juice—I mean, loser cocktail—”

“Actually, I think ‘loser juice’ is even better, because it makes it clear how immature you are!  Try again, and really put your heart into it!”

“Yes, Domina.  I’m so so so so grateful for your training me on loser juice and letting me drink it more often!”

“What do you want me to do when you’re given a treat in the future, sweetie?”

“I—I—” and then she figured it out.  “I want you to feed me my loser juice, Domina.  Please!”

“Well… if you want to.  Most people—men—would never do that.  But you’re obviously not a man, are you?”

“No, Domina, I’m not a man.”

“Are you a little boy?”

“No, Domina, I’m not a little boy.”

“Then what kind of loser-juice drinker are you?” she asked, pretending to be confused.

“A little girl.  A little sissy-gurl!” she amended, realizing it would be what Channah expected before she even had to correct her.

“Ohhh… she remembers!  You’re such a vacuous little sissy-gurl, too!  And don’t forget, you’re a chastised little bimbo.  You’re pledged to remaining pure and locked up in chastity for me forever, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“So that you can always remain my sweet, pure little virgin slut slave, too?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“And what do you like most?”

“I—I love you, Domina…” she answered pitifully.

“No, dummy!  What part of my body turns you on the very most?  What part of me do you crave and need that you’re going to beg for in the future?”

“Your feet, Domina—” she began, her confidence faltering as she saw her Domina shake her head in disappointment, her lips pressing together in a tight line.  “I’m sorry!” she bawled, tearing up again.  “I’m sorry, Domina, for being so stupid!  Please tell me what I like the most?”

“No, sissy, even you aren’t that stupid.  Think about it, ninny.  What part of my body do you respond to, helplessly, getting so excited you can’t even contain yourself, even though you’re afraid of—”

And she saw the understanding—and the horror—of it flood into her girl’s face as she practically crumpled in on herself.  She yowled, devastated most of all to find she couldn’t deny it because the answer was demonstrably, physically clear.

“Finally!” Channah rolled her eyes in frustration.  “Finally, my little moron figures out what has been obvious to everyone else from the first.”

“Okay, so put it all together for me, you pathetic pansy-weed.  And don’t forget any part of it, or so help me, I’ll make you regret it!”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny answered miserably, taking a breath and concentrating hard to get it right because she couldn’t take any more punishment just now.  “I’m—I’m a stupid little chastised, loser-juice-drinking virgin sissy-gurl… uh… slut-slave, Domina!”

“Lillith and Cane, after all that work, I’ll expect you to remember that!  I don’t want to have to remind you of it—not any little part of it—again.  And I am going to test you, at the most-unexpected, most-embarrassing possible times—” she loved to see the flinch in her girl’s eyes— “so if I were you, I’d practice it.  A lot.  Especially at first.  Like, every time you get an extra minute, almost like a mantra or a Hail Mary, all right, slut?”

“Yes, Domina, she howled hopelessly.

 “I’ll expect to see you practicing it without having to remind you, do you understand, pet?”

“Yes, Domina, I’ll—”

“Then begin!” she snapped her fingers impatiently.  “Right now!  Show me!”

“Yes, Domina, you won’t have to punish me, I promise!  I’m—I’m a stupid little chastised, loser-juice-drinking virgin sissy-gurl slut-slave, Domina!”

“Again!”

“I’m a stupid little chastised, loser-juice-drinking virgin sissy-gurl slut-slave, Domina!  I’m your stupid little chastised, loser-juice-drinking virgin sissy-gurl slut-slave, Domina!” And then as she broke down crying she repeated:  “I’m your stupid little chastised, loser-juice-drinking virgin sissy-gurl slut-slave, Domina!”

“Fine, that’s enough, I don’t want to be reminded what a pitiful loser you are—I want you to remember.  When any of your superiors—succubae or other operatives—ask you who or what you are, I expect you to remember that, and to answer any questions they may naturally have about what such kind of a person such a fucked-up double-damaged little jariya is.  Got it?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“Good girl.  I know you’ve been doing your best and being sincere?”

“Of course, Domina!  I want to—”

“Then I suppose you’ve earned your reward.” And she shifted her hips suggestively, drawing Penny’s eyes to it.  Penny swallowed.  “Well?” she demanded sharply.

“Yes, Domina, I understand,” she said sadly.  And then, noticing Channah’s face, she added:  “Thank you, Domina.”

“Mmm… that was a little weak.  If you don’t want your dessert, just tell me, and we’ll use the extra time for a little extra discipline.  What do you think, 1 or 2 more paddle strikes?”

“No Domina, no, please Domina!”  Penny begged, genuinely afraid.  “Please not that, Domina!  I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear!  Thank you so much for giving me dessert time, Domina!”

“Are you sure you want the dessert we’ve prepared?”

“Of course, Domina!”  Penny agreed emphatically.  “Yes, please, of course, please let me have my dessert, Domina!  Please, I want it very much!”

She shrugged.  “Well, if that’s really what you want, cuck.  Convince me you’re eager for it if you want to have dessert next time.”  And stepping forward so her feet were beside Penny’s buttocks on the stone surface, and her shins were pressed against the backs of Penny’s thighs, and her thighs were pressed against Penny’s calves, she tested Penny’s open and willing mouth, shutting her up and cutting off her long string of complimentary pathetic loser-boy blither.  “That’s much better,” Channah opined.  “Cucks choking instead of talking!  Go on, cow, enjoy your dessert.  Demean yourself for me, girl!  Really humble yourself and show me you’re sincere!  Awww… what a sweet precious girl.  That’s a good girl.”

When she was finally satisfied, she turned around and slid down Penny’s breasts and belly to sit on the stone bench, right between Penny’s legs, forcing them out to the widest angle she could.  Resting her butt cheeks on Penny’s chastity and her lower back on Penny’s belly and her upper back on Penny’s breasts, she let her head rest on Penny’s shoulder and hooked her hands between Penny’s arms, sighing and relaxing.  “Now that was so nice, Penny.  Wasn’t it, baby?  But turn your head away from me before answering.”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny agreed, sounding like her mouth was full of soap.

Literature Section “07-29[X] Penny Learns Her Lesson”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 29 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 1642 words::Explicit 1821 words—Accompanying Images:  2135, 2136A-C, 2137, 2138A-B—Published 2025-07-29—©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.

2131 07-28 Slavebride contemplating life in her new household
2132 07-28 I will protect you from all predators… except me
2133 07-28 I must know every detail of how you suffer for me, babydoll… tell me!
2134 07-28 It breaks my heart, but you MUST suffer hard for me

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

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, prostatestimulation, bullying, punishment, overpowering, consensualnonconsent, orgasm, chastity, goldenshowers, and watersports themes at 07-28X Penetrating Intimacy at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah angrily and rigorously tested Penny by pushing her limits.  Now, happily reassured, they are making up by making love.  NOW:

Channah and Penance were pressed close together, so intimate spiritually, sexually, and romantically they were almost fused into a single love monster.  Their lips were locked in a seemingly never-ending sweet mint kiss they were both drowning in.  Their breasts were pressed against and pushing on one another like bubbles sliding and squishing in a hot tub.  Channah’s belly-button was jerking and smashing Penny’s little damsel in distress.  The front of Channah’s thighs were crushed against the lowest part of Penny’s bottom, and her hands were brutally gripping and kneading Penny’s always-sensitive, but now sore red buttocks as her main source of leverage making Penny grunt and cry out around Channah’s big tongue.  Well… it probably accounted for up to half of Penny’s passionate cries. Along with the way Channah was making Penny open up with an overwhelming combination of pleasant and painful sensations that were shorting out her brain and making it spark and smoke and sputter, almost as incoherently as the drivel of noises she was trying to make around Channah’s big tongue.

“Awww… poor sweetie….”  Channah murmured around Penny’s mouth.  As the undisputed and emphatic dominant in their relationship, she could speak—or allow her toy to speak—whenever she wanted.  After all, she was literally, as well as metaphorically, on top; it was her weight pinning her smaller lover down; her hands and feet were her own, whereas Penny’s were tightly chained above her head, her ankles only a few inches from her wrists, her legs framing her face and breasts; and even Channah’s head was free to move and twist, unlike Penny’s, which was trapped between Channah’s hungry teeth and the hard stone lounge chair where Channah was taking—well, whatever she wanted—from Penny, with Penny’s eager compliance.  “Are mommy’s hands—” she curled her fingers to drive her fingernails into Penny’s haunches, instantly making Penny’s noises rise at least an octave and the helpless movement of Penny’s hands and feet and body accelerate.  “Huwting wittle baby?” she asked with faux sympathy.

“Yes, Domina,” Penny cried when Channah eased the pressure on her lips enough to allow her to do so.

“Are you asking me to stop my rough play with you, baby?” she asked.  They continued speaking between intense kisses, as Channah decided and permitted.

“No!  No Master!  Please, Domina, I want you to do whatever you want with me!  Use me—” She crushed her mouth down on Penny’s again, choking off her pitiful surrender.

“But it is hurting, and you—being a soft little baby sissy wimp, don’t like to be hurt, do you?”

“No, Domina, except that—that I want to please you even more!”

“Oh please, stop it!” she chortled.  “Do you or do you not enjoy being hurt?”

“I—I’m sensitive—”

“Oh, sensitive!” She whooped with laughter.  “Weak, you mean!  But that’s okay,” she continued slyly, the sudden change in mood a screaming red flag Penny had seen coming even before she raised it.  “Poor baby, Mommy’s going to give your little bot-bot a break.”  Drawing her hands back and slapping as hard as she could in the limited space under Penny’s buttocks (which, in Penny’s tender condition, was more than enough to elicit a howl muffled under Channah’s giggle), she ran her hands up Penny’s side, tickling and teasing her.  Channah loved how she responded:  Because she was so responsive, it made her helpless-slut-hyper-responsive to soft touches, just as it made her easily reducible to blubbering tears by hard blows that tougher men could take stoically).

Then Channah shifted her hands to Penny’s legs, trailing them lightly up towards her delicate ankles, laughing to see Penny brace herself and wriggle a bit more and squeak around Channah’s tongue, knowing instantly where her hands were going but unable to do anything to stop it.  Without breaking her aggressive kiss or interrupting her rhythm, Channah laid her arms back on Penny’s legs and her hands on those ever-sensitive soles, tickling them again.

“Fallen one, the way you move when I tickle you—you’re shaking and jiggling me like an earthquake!”  And realizing she was going to finish before she had expected, she applied the twister to Penny’s lowest little organs without letting up or showing any mercy to her feet, knowing Penny was starting to soften from the overwhelming combination of sensations.  The poor girl was thrashing and flailing and sweating and laughing-not-laughing, wailing around Channah’s tongue, her eyes tightly shut with the tension in her face, mirroring the tension in her body as the relentless tickling and kissing and gagging and stuffing and the radiating heat from her bottom bouncing and scraping on the stone lounge all combined to overcome her control and rout any last semblance of presence of mind she might have had. 

As Channah broke their kiss to roar and bellow her conqueror’s cry of victory, the removal of her tongue and lips allowed Penny’s passion to find its voice.  Which at this point, had been reduced to a raspy, sobbing, crying, grunting, pleading, wailing gibberish of semi-coherent begging and protesting.  Penny’s weak and pathetic harmony was almost an octave higher than Channah’s gruff melody.  Even as Channah finished, Penny did too.  Penny’s face was etched with the intensity of the pleasure and discomfort she was experiencing simultaneously, as her sounds edged towards a hopeless, exhausted sobbing.

Sniffing to confirm her immediate impression, Channah cruelly taunted Penny:  “Oh, sweetie!  You’re having your first bladder-and-prostate experience, aren’t you?  Oh-ho-ho, how does it feel baby darling?”

“It’s awful,” Penny yowled miserably.  “I don’t even understand what’s happening in my body or what I’m feeling….” She sobbed and moaned in confession, while Channah was laughing so hard she let her arms and legs go to rubber and collapsed onto Penny.

Literature Section “07-28[X] Penetrating Intimacy”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 28 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 963 words::Explicit 1079 words—Accompanying Images:  2131-2134—Published 2025-07-28—©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.


2127 07-27 They ALL knew better, bitch.  Now crawl to me
2128 07-27 If I grew a hundred gardens like this they couldn’t express how much I love my Domina
2129 07-27 It was too late for you the second we met.  Just shut up and crawl
2130 07-27 I waited and wished for you all my life

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

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, prostatestimulation, bullying, punishment, overpowering, consensualnonconsent, and chastity themes at 07-27X The Predatory-Missionary Position at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah has been testing Penny by pushing her limits, and been pleased with her compliance and responsiveness.  NOW:

“Here, put it in your mouth,” Channah said, offering him the sweet.  “Don’t swallow it, just suck it, it’s sweet and minty so I can kiss you again.”

Penny accepted it, concentrating on it and asking:  “What is it, Domina?”

“Persian rock candy.  Basically, sugar, infused with… well, anything I suppose,” she shrugged.  “I always keep a few wintergreen ones around.”  Then she dabbed a clean corner of the rag in the canteen mouth and used it to scrub Penny’s face, leaving it clean, and marginally-minty.  “There’s my sweet baby back,” she whispered, putting her right arm around Penny’s neck and pulling her head forward for a slow, lingering, gentle kiss, her right hip pressing against Penny and the connection between them seeming to crackle with electricity where her side rested against Penny.

The kiss was sweet, romantic, and divine; and it seemed to have a life of its own, drawing them each in more deeply the longer they were connected.  And Channah’s mouth was tender with her abused girl, using her lips and only the tip of her long tongue for an occasional flicker of contact with Penny’s mouth and tongue.  They both seemed to realize at the same moment that they were both humming, opening their eyes simultaneously to look at one another from an inch apart, and giggle like schoolgirls, before slipping into another comfortable, silent intimacy.

“Uh-oh,” Channah twittered, shifting her body slightly to the right so Penny could feel it against the bottom of her thigh.  Then she whispered:  “I seem to have a not-so-slight problem, again.  And you know what that means, don’t you, honey?” 

“Yes, Mistress,” she confessed, hanging her head.  “And I have a problem, too, Domina,” she whispered, pinkening, looking down at Channah’s breasts, too shy to meet Channah’s eyes.

“Awwwwwww…” Channah’s face turned mock-sad as she pulled back and tipped her head to one side.  “Isn’t it sweet we can share our problems with one another?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny agreed compliantly.

“Yes, indeed,” she agreed, reaching into her bag for her jar and applying its contents.  Don’t be nervous, darling.  Oh, who am I kidding?  I love that you’re nervous, Puddin’.  As someone as soft as you, ought to be.  Such a sweet, vulnerable, defenseless girl…” she leaned back in for another protracted kiss with her helpless but responsive bride.  “Are you uncomfortable, sweetie?  All… bunched up like that, with your ankles and wrists bound over your head?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny confessed mournfully.

“Aren’t you going to whine and beg and plead for me to let you loose?”

“You warned us to be grateful and show you how much we melt for you, Domina.  And it’s true!  I swear, I am grateful—I’ll continue working on focusing on that.”  Then she frowned.  “Why, do—do you want me to, Domina?”

“Goodness no,” she laughed as if the notion were absurd.  “I want to know you’re obeying the orders I’ve already given you, of course!” she scoffed.  Then she gasped, standing up beside the lounge, lifting up on Penny’s bottom with relish and drinking down her resulting discomfort, before sliding the covered pillow up under Penny’s backside, and ooching that delectable backside back up against the lounge, so one corner of the pillow touched Penny’s lower spine.  “But, actually… if you don’t mind…” she growled, kneeling on the widest part of the covered pillow, the tops of her thighs pressing sensually up on the outsides of Penny’s pink hips, dropping her hands to Penny’s red bottom, she looked up innocently at Penny and moued:  “I do have a favorite fantasy.  And nobody’s ever given it to me.  Will you, missy?”

“Yes—” Penny swallowed, reflecting her mix of emotions perfectly:  Fear, of what outrageous act or submission she would demand, an excitement she couldn’t quite convince herself to get rid of, and her most attractive quality, her deep-seated desire to please others—especially Channah.  “Yes, Mistress, if I can, I would love to make you happy, Domina,” she answered.  A good answer—especially because it was an honest one.  “What—what did you have in mind, Domina?” she asked timidly.

Laughing, she pre-loosened her girl with her fingers, really enjoying the way it made Penny flinch and grunt while she obediently and helplessly remained trapped by Channah’s gaze… and bonds… and greater physical strength… and force of will.  Their thoughts touched and flirted with each other’s in a profound intimacy, and Channah whispered:  “When I begin,.…” she shuffled forward on her knees, pressing herself against Penny, loving how her girl whimpered and clenched and melted all at once at the first touch, “… I want you to beg me to go gentle with you.”

“Yes Domina,” she breathed, starting to pant.  “Will you, Domina?”

“Hell no,” she assured her, starting to push forward.


“Please!” Penny yelped, most genuinely and satisfactorily, “Please be gentle with me, Mistress!”

“I’ll do whatever I like with you, slut,” she answered roughly, sneering at Penny, neither of them able to break the gaze that locked them together.  Penny’s breathing grew shallower and she started to make soft little grunting noises, each grunt faster, and higher in pitch, than the last, arching her back involuntarily and biting her lip as Channah moved, faster and faster. 

“Yes, of course, Mistress!”  Penny consented and wailed, flinching with all the pains she was feeling. 

And, unable to contain herself, her hands roughly grasping Penny’s scarlet buttocks; her shoulders forcing back Penny’s knees, she hissed:  “Shut the fuck up and kiss me, bitch,” as she crushed her lips against her wife, mouths wide open, the succubus’s tongue aggressive and penetrating, while all the helpless, uncomfortable, bound, ordinary girl could possibly do was accommodate and obey and get vulnerably turned on about how badly her masterful lover was treating her.

Literature Section “07-27[X] The Predatory-Missionary Position”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 27 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 968 words::Explicit 1036 words—Accompanying Images:  2127-2130—Published 2025-07-27—©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.

2123 07-26 Oh, sweetie, you’re a mess
2124 07-26 BAD girl, letting it spill everywhere!
2125 07-26 What a good girl, taking your medicine

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

Explicit version containing oralsex, fellatio, deepthroat, swallowing, orgasm, bullying, overpowering, and consensualnonconsent themes at 07-26X Teaching Her How to Swallow at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah has been angrily and rigorously testing Penny by pushing her limits; now she has chained her down with her wrists and ankles locked above her head.  NOW:

“You’re in quite a pickle, aren’t you, little Princess?”  Channah teased her.

“I am!  Yes, Mistress!”  She protested.  “Please, Domi—”

“Let me see…” she cut her girl off.  “I seem to remember you’re… ticklish!” she roared, pouncing on the soft, vulnerable soles of Penny’s feet, tickling them while Penny jumped and jerked and squealed and hyperventilated and kicked.  “Was that a rhetorical question, do you think, Penny?” she snarked.

“No Domina, I—I am ticklish, Domina!  I’m ticklish!”

And she continued tickling and tormenting her for another minute or two, reveling in the girl’s extreme reaction.  “Oh, Pleaser,” she mumbled, “I don’t know why, but the results of the tickle test are as conclusive as those of the batting test:  I have a best-in-class—by which I mean, wimpiest, most-pathetic, weakest, and most-sensitive—sissy ever on my hands!  Darling, you are going to be helpless before me!”

“I know!  I already am!  I always have been, Domina!” she cried, an ineffectual protest directed at no one.  “Of COURSE I am!  But I don’t know why I was made this way!”

Moving around to the side of the lounge and watching Penny’s face as she calmed down and recovered her breath, she felt another stab of intense pleasure between her legs when Penny finally opened her shy eyes and blushed prettily for her Domina.  “I love you so much, Domina,” she pledged, her eyes so big and honest Channah just melted.

“Oh, Princess, I love you!  Don’t you see it, silly?  You were made for me:  body and soul, my perfect plaything!”  She felt the familiar changes in her lower body while an even-more-embarrassed Penny looked down at it and whispered:

“Oh, my!  Made for just you…. Only you?” she mused, sounding kind of distracted and bemused.  “Gawd, maybe I was…”  and then she whispered, very quietly, looking up at Channah in wonder with the biggest most-innocent eyes Channah could remember seeing as Channah climbed onto the stone lounge over her:  “Is it really possible, Domina?” 

“Oh yes, slut.  Oh yes it is!”  And standing with her feet just against the outsides of Penny’s hips, she leaned forward, resting her knees on the elevated section of the lounge and wordlessly presenting herself to Penny.  Licking her lips and taking in a deep breath, Penny opened wide.  Resting her elbows on Penny’s lower arms and sighing with pleasure, she used the stability of her elbows and knees to remain just at the line between what her girl could and could not handle.   “Oh, that’s it, you dirty bitch!  Oh… someday soon, I’m going to teach you to love all of me!”  The noises coming out of her slave’s mouth went up in pitch and almost sounded like her vocal cords were involved in trying to articulate actual words.  Channah nodded and laughed:  “I mean it, you will learn!  And honey… as long as you wear my collar, we have –literally—all the time in the world to train you.  We’ll get there.  Oh!  I’m looking forward to that!  I’ll ask my metalsmith if she can’t tweak one of your final chakra guards to help with that….” 

Rotating and bouncing her hips, gently and carefully, as she panted and bit her lip, she sank into a hazy state of bliss.  Suddenly, she laughed again—more softly, with delight instead of power—and giggled:  “I just realized:  with my elbows on your forearms, if I cross my arms…” and Penny, squealing in protest, felt what Channah was about to say, even as she said it:  “I can tickle your feet!”  And, hooting, she proceeded to do just that, snorting and bucking on top of Penny, crying out deliriously:  “The way you’re moving!  Oh shit!  Oh shit!  I’m goooonnnnnaaaah!”

Her poor girl was wiggling, struggling to breathe, helpless with Channah driving her to distraction even before the final complication Channah imposed on her.   “Oh fuck!  Oh fuck!  Oh fuh-huh-huh-huh-huck!” Channah snarled, losing herself completely.

Shaking her head to clear it and using one hand to brush her hair back out of her eyes, Channah finally collected herself enough to look down at the noisy, thrashing mess below her and gasped:  “Oh, shit!” as the girl gasped for breath.  “Oh, you’re glad I love you, darling… I kind of lost myself there, didn’t I, sweetheart?  Oh, there, there, baby…. Breathe, honeygirl, It’s okay…” she calmed and soothed her babygirl, feeling everything at the same time:  deep love, genuine concern for her well-being, and a secret pride at how thoroughly she had topped the little bitch.  “That was so satisfying,” she admitted, continuing dreamily:  “It’s going to be even better after I’ve finished training you….”  Slipping off the lounge, she grabbed her bag, then returned to the lounge, sitting down right in front of Penny’s hips, using a clean rag to settle her while Channah made soothing, loving noises, her eyes dancing with impish pleasure at her girl’s teary eyes and exhausted face.  And then, managing to sound surprised, as if she’d just come across this helpless, befuddled girl tied up in a forest, the effect only slightly spoiled by her sniggering:  “Sweetie, you’re a complete mess!”  Whining sympathetically, she leaned in, almost like she was going to kiss her, and then shook her head as if scandalized.  “Oh, darling!  Here, drink, drink, drink it all down,” she sang, holding her canteen to Penny’s lips and pouring water in her mouth.  Then she unwrapped a small, translucent ellipsoid, carefully tipping the canteen until a small squirt of water cascaded down over the ellipsoid, and began applying it to Penny’s face, nodding encouragingly when Penny instinctively pulled her head back from the smell.  “It’s mint.  Don’t you like it?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny spoke softly, subdued.  Subdued… just the idea of it made Channah tingle.

Literature Section “07-26[X] Teaching Her How to Swallow”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 26 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 967 words::Explicit 1232 words—Accompanying Images:  2123-2125, 2123X, 2126X—Published 2025-07-26—©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.

2096 07-25 I love you with all my heart, Domina
2097 07-25 I knew I would own you the first time we met, Pleaser
2098 07-25 I want you to see me how you make me feel, Domina
2099 07-25 Please!  I’ve got Puddin’ more whipped than my two familiars here!

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah is angrily and rigorously testing Penny by pushing her limits, especially with respect to pain, which she struggles to tolerate.  Reveling in her power, she has demanded:  “You are my helplessly-devoted little girl, aren’t you?”  NOW:

“Yes, Mistress, I can’t doubt that now.”

“Oh!” she cooed happily.  “That’s so sweet!  Having my own, devoted dirty-humiliation slut.  Well.  You made such a mess, bad girl, that you and Chastity are going to have to clean this floor, and the stairs, and the hallway floor, this afternoon.  You won’t need to worry about the outdoors, the rain will take care of that.  But you and I need to shower, immediately.  Come on, sweetie.”  She stood, waiting for Penny to stiffly, painfully get to her feet, and then took her hand and began leading her back to the bath pool, picking up the bag of toys she had selected earlier and carrying it with them.

When they were clean again, Channah led Penny to the garden creek and under the trees back to the pagoda.  “This is where Chastity and I made love this morning,” she purred.  I hung her from the gazebo hook and fucked the shit out of her.”

“Domina!”  Penny reddened.

Then she reddened even further when Channah tested her cage and snorted.  “Mm hmm.  I thought so.  I wasn’t really planning to bring you here—I was planning to take you in my bed—but as you can see, we left the sofa cushions out here on this stone lounge, so it’s perfect.”

“Perfect for what, Domina?”  Penny asked breathlessly.

“Exactly what you’re hoping for, peach pudding.  Well,” she giggled, as she withdrew a flexible black pillowcase from her bag, sliding one of the cushions into it and setting it at the foot of the lounge, turned so that one pair of opposite corners was parallel with the lounge and the other pair perpendicular.     “Not exactly what you’re hoping for, I expect; but since you know you’re never going to get that….”  She set the other two cushions aside.

Taking Penny by the shoulders, she pulled her in for a long, sweet kiss that turned into a much longer, much sweeter, much wilder kiss.  “When you’re embracing a girl, Penny, you can put your arms on her shoulders, or if you’re submissive and your partner has already done that, the way I’m doing to you, you can put your hands on her waist,” she whispered, shivering when she complied.  “Oh, you’ve got a very soft and delicate touch, baby.  Now:” she broke their kiss, moving her hands to Penny’s nipples and rolling them between her fingers, harder and harder, until Penny whined.  She leaned forward and whispered in her ear:  “Sissy weakling.  I’m sorry-not-sorry, lover, but this is going to hurt.”

Then, sharply and forcefully, she took Penny’s shoulders and pushed her back so she fell onto the uncushioned lounge with her back against the elevated section, almost immediately trying to rise back off and hissing and squealing in pain.  “Sit your busted ass down and don’t get up until I give you permission!”

“Yes, Domina,” she squeaked, visibly struggling to relieve the pain of her own weight on her abused buttocks without violating her Mistress’s command.

Sitting down between her knees, very close to her, Channah began making out with her slowly and gently, as she buckled on Penny’s wrist straps and ankle straps, pretending not to notice or care how strongly Penny reacted to her.  By contrast, she giggled and teased Penny about the way she kept shifting and trying to raise one butt cheek or the other, while Channah took every opportunity to touch the girl and push down different parts of her body to encourage her to feel her ache for Channah’s pleasure.

With a deep, final kiss, she giggled and stood, holding Penny’s wrists and pulling them above Penny’s head, bending her elbows so her hands and lower arms hung off the head of the lounge.  With a chain, shivering to hear Penny’s worried moue, she chained Penny’s wrists together and slipped the center link of the chain into a carabiner which she locked over a bronze ring on the back of the lounge.  Standing up against the back of the lounge, she leaned forward, yanking on Penny’s hair to bring her face up so she could kiss her from above and behind while her girl made excited, submissive sounds, eagerly and excitedly returning Channah’s attentions without penetrating her lips, focusing her attention on receiving and welcoming her master’s tongue.  “Bring your feet up to your hips and spread your legs for me, sweetie,” she murmured without leaving off her kissing, giggling with pleasure as her girl complied.  “Gooood girl.  You know I love a compliant girl, right?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny answered, crying out with passion as Channah cradled her breasts in her hands and rubbed her nipples softly.  “I want to be yours, to yield to you and obey you, Domina!”

“Oh, baby, you’re sooo responsive,” Channah groaned.  “I love how your body just dances under my hands and mouth.  Is your cage starting to pinch your stiffening little clitty yet, Pleaser?”

“Yes, Domina,” she moaned.  “And my bottom hurts—it’s hard to sit here!”

“Good, baby, that’s hot.”  And then she viciously pinched Penny’s nipples with her fingernails and nipped her lips.  “It turns me on so much that you’re suffering for me!”

“I am, Domina!” she promised.

“Good.  It took so much groveling and foot-worship and golden play for you to perk up again I was afraid I’d broken my little doll.”

“You have broken me,” she confessed in a whisper, hungrily kissing her Domina and squeaking with the pain she was feeling.

“FUCK yeah,” Channah grunted, pressing her knees together as her head buzzed and her eyelids fluttered with the physical force of her reaction.  “Lillith below, kick your dainty little left foot up, baby,” she commanded; and when Penny did, pointing it up like a ballerina, Channah growled again, taking hold of her ankle and fastening another chain, this one longer—five links, with an extra carabiner already fastened to the middle link—to her ankle cuff.   “Now your right foot, sweetheart,” she whispered, struggling to contain her own excitement, as Penny lifted and extended it with impressive delicacy for someone who had only evolved into her womanhood.  Fastening it to the other end of the chain, she breathed:  “Ready, Pleaser?”

“For wh—I mean, yes, Domina!  For anything.  Please tell me what you want m—eek!” she squealed in surprise, as Channah used both hands to haul up on her ankle chain, pull it back over her head, and secure it to the same bronze ring as her wrist chain.  “Oh my!  Oh Domina!” she wailed helplessly, kicking prettily in her helpless position while Channah trembled at her.

“You’re in quite a pickle, aren’t you, little Princess?”  Channah teased her.

Literature Section “07-25 Putting Penny in Her Place”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 25 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—1116 words—Accompanying Images:  2096-2099—Published 2025-07-25—©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.

2092 07-24 Yellow-Haired Stepchild
2093 07-24 Sad Girl
2094 07-24 Daughter Dolorosa
2095 07-24 Smoking Channah in front of the girls

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

Explicit version containing bullying, goldenshowers, punishment, analpenetration, and cleanup themes at 07-24X Cleaning Channah’s Feet at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah is angrily and rigorously testing Penny by pushing her limits.  NOW:

Penny was panting, faster and faster, as Channah tested her bladder, before with a desperate last shake of resistance, Penny squeaked and groaned with an unmistakably defeated sound. 

Channah couldn’t help herself, she laughed while she stood up, stepping back and trying to sound outraged:  “Naughty-little-girl embarrassed herself, didn’t she?”  And this time she didn’t wait for her girl to start talking; didn’t even give her a chance to, hauling back and walloping Penny’s bottom:  Crack!  “AAAAAAAAAAAH!” followed by a lot of caterwauling and gibberish she couldn’t even have made sense of if she was listening, which she wasn’t because she was doubled over so hard watching Penny completely lose control. 

“Oh, Penny!  You dirty bitch!”  she howled, laying Penance’s Bull-Daddy down well out of the way.  “I ought to spank you for that!”  She stepped toward her throne, unable to avoid the little lake, laughing as hard as Penny was crying.  “What are you doing with your head still under my throne?  Silly girl!  Back up!  Back up!”  she commanded, as Penny did back up, her arms moving right into the pool as Channah slid her throne forward and sat down on it, over Penny’s head, grabbing her by the hair, then leaned back in her throne, lifting Penny’s tear-soaked red face so she could see it and putting the soles of her feet right on it.  “Dirty girl!  I told you what the consequence would be, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Domina!”

“Then start doing your duty, bitch.  Back on your heels.”  And when she hesitated, Channah put her feet on Penny’s shoulders, kicking her backwards so her extremely sensitive butt slammed into her own heels, producing another pleasing, squealing sound as Channah pushed her soles into Penny’s face to keep her from rising back.  “Unh-uh!  STAY!”  She snapped, as if she were talking to a dog.  “Bad puppy!  Go on, puppy!  Lick!  Lick!”  And she moaned with pleasure as she felt Penny obey her Domina, even as she continued to wriggle her hips to alleviate the pain from her bottom.  “Good girl,” Channah cooed.  “Good.  Girl.”  Knowing she would be unable to leave her throne until the floor was cleaner, she dropped her right foot to the ground while Penny worshipped her left , and then she dipped her left foot while Penny was sucking on her right.  “Thaaat’s the way, goooood gurl.  Oh… look how devoted you are, baby!  Yess…. Stick that tongue between my big and second toes.  It’s sooo wet in there.  Now lick the bottoms.  Oh, other foot.  What a mess!  But you must be thirsty, the way you’re going to town.  We’re going to explore that, darling!” 

After a pause to listen to Penny lick, she continued, almost lazily:  “Use your hands to hold my ankles—gently! While you clean the bottoms of my feet.  Why should I do all the work to hold my legs up?  You’re the offender!  I’ve given—at a guess—tens of thousands of whoopings in my life, including to boys much younger and smaller than you, and I can assure you, you are the single most pathetic little worm I’ve ever dealt with.  The good news for you, little marshmallow, is that you’ve always been soooo sweet and submissive you don’t give me much cause to beat you.”  She giggled:  “Well… except the way you keep turning me on with what a submissive, disgraceful, dirty slut you really are… practically begging for more torment when you do that in front of a demon, aren’t you, horny girl?  But other than the times you seduce me into it, you shameless girl, there will be occasional days, like today, when I need to prove to you, or to myself, or perhaps even to a third party, how totally submissive you are.  But if you keep up your good work, striving really hard to show me how much you love and respect me, after your pathetic display of weakness today, I’m pretty sure beatings will be rare for you, and I will never get close to hitting you as many times as… well, even wimpy little Chastity.  But certainly never treating you the way any real men could expect:  ten, twenty… I’ve hit boys, you know, real boys, as many as fifty times before.”  Penny made a defeated, overwhelmed sound.  “Oh hush and keep cleaning my feet, bitch!  We’ve already seen how weak and pathetic you are; that’s what I’m trying to tell you!  Don’t you get it, dummy?”  She used her heel to cuff Penny across the cheek, emphasizing her dominance further.  “I’m talking here!

She continued, teasing her and taunting her and praising her and insulting her by turns, serving her sole after sole, occasionally allowing herself a detour to test Penny’s cage while she kept licking, until finally Channah giggled in triumph, prodding and testing with her foot to confirm her suspicion as Penny groaned with her humiliation.  “Theeeere it is, my perverted little mushroom.  I knew talking dirty to you while disgracing you would bring back your little man sometime!  And it’s so hard now, almost like a real twelve-year-old boy, isn’t it?  Isn’t it?!”

“Yes, Domina!”

“Goood girl!  What a good girl!  Admitting what a naughty little girl you are is the first step to giving into your nature.  You are my helplessly-devoted little girl, aren’t you?”

Literature Section “07-24[X] Cleaning Channah’s Feet”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 24 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 891 words::Explicit 1113 words—Accompanying Images:  2092-2095—Published 2025-07-24—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

2087 07-23 Queen’s Favorite
2088 07-23 Domina’s Pet
2089 07-23 Demonbait
2090 07-23 Mummy’s Best Little Girl
2091 07-23 Silly Rabbit

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

Explicit version containing bullying, consensualnonconsent, analpenetration, and bladderplay themes at 07-23X The Crack of the Bat at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, Chastity, and Penance are honeymooning at Channah’s secret tropical paradise.  After becoming concerned Chastity was playing her (and afraid she was being gullible), Channah is angrily and rigorously testing Penny by pushing her limits, especially in relation to physical pain.  NOW:

“Pleaser,” she hissed as an insult, watching her scamper to assume the position Channah had commanded her to assume.  “Pathetic Pleaser,” she amended, chortling, as she slowly walked to assume a strong striking position, legs apart, perpendicular to her victim, hands clasped around the handle, breathing in the fresh morning air and noticing that the sun had fully risen.  “Don’t disappoint me,” she rumbled.

“No Domina.  I swear I’ll give you everything I ha—”  Crack!  “AAAAAAAAAAAH!” she cried, as the bat connected, perfectly, striking both cheeks of her bum.  Penny scrabbled, howling, trying to crawl under the throne.

Channah laughed and rocked her shoulders with delight, enjoying herself fully, excited at Penny’s wimpy—and most satisfying—reaction.  “That was just the first one, pudding.  Or does being a pathetic milquetoast make you more of a Princess?  Hmmm….”  She walked to Penny’s other side, switching her hands on the bat, and watched Penny’s quivering bottom for a moment before purring to express her intense satisfaction.  “Lillith and Cane, you’re a sissy-little weakling.  Aren’t you?!” she snapped.

“Yes, Domina, I’m a sissy-little weakl—”Crack!  “AAAAAAAAAAAH!” she wept, slamming the chair against the wall as she cried.

“Oh yeah,” she howled like a wolf, bending her knees and holding her hands at her sides as she hooted with delight, before returning to her first position, listening to Penny’s moans.  “You look so—stupid—with your head under my throne!  Like some kind of dumb dog that thinks it’s hiding by sticking its head in a hole!  Tell me, is that what you are?  A dumb doggie or a sissy-little weakling?”

“I—” Crack!  “AAAAAAAAAAAH!” this time it was a squawk that nearly made Channah come again.  Laughing, she plumped down into her throne, resting her feet on Penny’s back and enjoying the feel of how she was writhing on the floor before her.  “I feel so close to you right now, pudding Princess,” she confessed.  Then she giggled.  “How do you feel?”

“It hurts so badly, Domina!”  Penance wept.  “I don’t know if I can be good.  I’m trying so hard to be good, I promise I’m trying Domina—”

“Oh, I know, sweetie!  I can tell!  That’s why I’m feeling so close to you, darling—because you’re trying so hard for me!  Isn’t that sweet?”

“I—I—I want you to be happy, Domina!  I want to make you happy.  BUT IT HURTS DOMINA!!!

“Ohh, there, there, sweetie, SOO dramatic.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head.  “You’re not going to die, unless you realize how ridiculous and pathetic you sound,” she consoled her girl in a saccharine-sweet voice, rubbing and pressing her feet into her girl’s shoulders and back, eliciting groans of confused pleasure as she overstimulated her with a profusion of sweet and spicy sensations at once.  “I’ve done this to a.  Lot. Of. Boys. over the centuries, baby, and I can promise you—even little jawari like you have survived—” she had to stop and laugh again, at Penny’s wiggling and whining.  “Penny!” she barked, trying and failing miserably to sound cross with her, slapping her back with the soles of her feet to get her attention before she burst out laughing yet again.  “You.  Are. Absurd.  The most ridiculously little whiney-baby I have ever beaten!”

And with that, she stood up again, walked around behind her, standing between her legs and just enjoying the absurd little booty dance she was still doing.  Impulsively, Channah started alternating feet to step on her right cheek and watch her dive as if scalded, then step on her left cheek to watch her dodge, then jab her, then caress her.  Finally, as much fun as she was having, she decided Penny would probably entertain her all day, and she had no doubt she could make Penny entertaining with very little effort whenever she wanted to.

“Assume the position, bitch!  Get your hips back up.”

Penny started hyperventilating again between sobs but wailed:  “Yes, Domina,” as she pushed her cute little tushie back up, the internal conflict visible in the stiff, awkward way she moved, even without her crying to emphasize it.

“Are you ready, bitch?” she asked, snickering.

“Yes, Domina,” she quailed. 

“I don’t know… you don’t look ready.”  Getting into maximum-domme position, she rolled the bat in her hands causing the tip to draw a circle in the air above her shoulder.  “You look kind of scared.  How’s your bladder doing, sweetie?”

“I need to pee so bad, Domina.  SOO bad, pl—” Crack!  “AAAAAAAAAAAH!  Oh owwwww!  Dom-min-na!  I love you…” she whined.

“Are you getting excited yet?” she asked, squatting down to check, then guffawing.  “No.  I can’t even find you.  You may even have an insy right now,” she laughed, playing with Penny’s bottom.  Impulsively she sucked on her middle finger and pressed on Penny’s bladder, watching and cackling with delight as her girl tried to take the pressure off.  “Keep that ass up, Missy!” she ordered sternly, continuing to torture her bladder with her finger.  “But don’t you dare spill a drop or I’ll make you clean it up!  It feels—soooooo—full honey!  I don’t know how you can even stand it!  How long has it been since you’ve peed?  Twenty hours?  Why, that’s probably the longest you’ve ever held it in your short little life.  You must be drowning—”

Literature Section “07-23[X] The Crack of the Bat”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 23 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 898 words::Explicit 1141 words—Accompanying Images:  2087-2091—Published 2025-07-23—©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.