Tag: humiliation

1820 06-95 A Bond So Intense You Feel an Outsider
1821 06-95 Channah and her loving babygirl
1822 06-95 Channah with her sweet little adoring jariya girl
1823 06-95 Channah over her weak pussywhipped slave

Explicit version containing CBT, masturbation, chastity, rape-fantasy themes at 06-95X Edgeplay:  Channah Teases Penny Toward a Hot Mess at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  After using Penny, as she continues to tease the helpless girl, she explains how her Manipura Chain will reveal Penny’s true and desired form when Penny gives herself fully and unconditionally to Channah.  NOW:

Humming, Channah swung her hip off Penny so she was kneeling beside the girl, trapping her right thigh between Channah’s right thigh and calf.  With her left hand, effortlessly, she took and held both of Penny’s wrists, giggling at the way doing so made Penny twitch.  Feigning a round “O” of surprise as her eyes bored into Penny’s, with her right hand, she startled Penny by freeing her, making the weaker girl shudder, her breathing turning into a raspy, panting wheeze as she flowered into her full, if modest, bloom.

 “Don’t you want to be everything you can be?”  Channah asked, fascinated by Penny’s expression of longing, desperation, panic, and total vulnerability, watching how her eyes focused on Channah’s hand, settling over Penny’s lower torso, so close—so close—using her fingers to raise goosebumps on Penny’s skin.  “Don’t you want to be the very best girl for me you can?”  Channah asked, nodding suggestively.  And Penny found herself nodding dumbly in response, her entire body twitching up and down with every single beat of her heart.

With a mock gasp of surprise, Channah swung her hip back across Penny, using her right hand to adjust her skirts, her left hand continuing to secure both of Penny’s wrists.  She barely breathed, almost reverently:  “You were built to obey and to please, darling.  Or I think from now on, is it okay if I call you ‘Pleaser’?  Yeah, that’s a good girl.  There…” she hissed.  “I’m sitting a bit further forward so it’s more comfortable for you.”  Penny groaned raggedly, feeling the soft, reassuring touch of Channah’s warm skin on her hips, electrifying every single nerve-ending as the dominant succubus stifled another smile.  “Don’t you dare ruin this incredible moment with any selfishness, do you understand me, Pleaser?”

Penny nodded frantically, not trusting herself to speak.

“Oh dear,” she made an expression of mock-surprise and -concern, tugging on her lip with her fingertip as if thinking.  “I forgot.  You’re totally pathetic bully-fodder, aren’t you, darling?  By chastising and humiliating you, I don’t cool you down, I just push you closer, don’t I, you little freak?”  And when Penny didn’t answer, she rose up again and frowned her best mean face.  “Answer me!  With the truth!”

And Penny knew what that was.  Especially now, in this moment, she could not doubt it or deny it, who and what she was and had always been.  “Yes Domina, yes!” she confessed shamefully, shivering with the intensity and depth of the reaction Channah was able to elicit from her.

Channah shook her head in wonder that was only half an act, and was half a genuine marvel at how perfectly—for succubaean purposes—human biological males were made.  But she was snickering with unconflicted amusement at Penny’s plight and confusion. 

“You know I’m more perfect for you than any human woman on the planet, don’t you?”  Penny nodded frantically, not sure what, or even sure she cared what, she was agreeing to, because her mind was so jumbled and filled with the noise of her own arousal and the fear of Channah teaching her more about who she might be, what depths she might sink to.  And maybe because it didn’t matter:  after all, Channah was right, of course she was always right, and Penny… Penny belonged to her so deeply and utterly, her succubaean will thoroughly overcame and occupied Penny’s human one.  “The nature of a succubus is to be a perfect companion to human men, just like the nature of an incubus is to be a perfect companion to human women.  Because our purpose is to be your seductive predators, and humans are our sole prey. ” Channah confided sincerely, as if that were an obvious reason for humans to hang out with demons.  All the time, she kept swaying as if she were slow-dancing with Penny, not hard enough to finish, but not too soft to keep Penny’s attention, twitching in time with her pulse.  “By becoming your perfect companions, we ensure we are your perfect predators.  But you’re the lucky ones, Penny.  You, and Chas, and all my jawari… perfect as I am for you, I don’t want to prey on you.”  She shook her head, beaming down in sweet assurance at Penny.  “Because you’re my operatives.  My confidantes.  And you and Chas are even more than that… you’re my wives.  Do you know how special that is?” 

Penny nodded frantically.  She, and then Channah in response, moaned at the intimacy of that and Channah swooped down to plumb and loot Penny’s sweet mouth, even the vibrations of the sound made by their shared moans another chain of love and desire connecting them.  By leaning forward, Channah caused her hips to roll forward, pressing against Penny’s belly, a warm, soothing cataplasm.  A whine crept back into Penny’s panting breath at how touching her higher up took Channah’s body away from her further below.  Keeping her legs raised, Penny pathetically tried to reconnect everywhere.  She knew Channah was right when she laughed throatily, raising her hips higher as she smashed her lips down even harder:  “Hunh-unh baby.  Me first.  Me always.  Me only.  You’re out of your own control now, aren’t you, lovergirl?”  Penny nodded, unwilling to break contact with her mouth or miss a second of her possessing, dominating lips and tongue.  “That’s why you need mine.  Don’t you?”  Penny nodded again, sounding like nothing more than a whining dog overcome with a need only her master could satisfy.  “You’re lucky!  No human woman could be even close to what I am because she has so many conflicting responsibilities and priorities—mmm” Channah put her hand back on Penny’s neck with totally possessory intent, practically devouring Penny, Penny so deep under she welcomed every assault Channah was willing to visit upon her, the harder and more-invasive the better.  “Making new lives.”  Penny was in such an ecstatic, frantic, senseless space Channah could have discussed botany or politics and Penny would remain totally enthralled.  “Raising children.”  She was out of her weak little mind, nothing but a sponge for her Master’s more forceful one.  “Gathering food.”  Biting and pulling on Penny’s lower lip.  “Preparing for winter.”  Her right hand slid up Penny’s cheek to seize her hair possessively.  “Weaving and washing.”  And she wrenched Penny’s hair down, shifting her weight to her left hand to emphasize Penny’s meek submission and imprisonment.  “Keeping her home fire burning.”  She used the leverage on Penny’s hair to force her chin up further whilst keeping her lips against Penny’s mouth.  “And only on top of all that, at the end of such a long day, satisfying her man.”  She jerked Penny’s hair to one side, turning her head as she dragged her lips across Penny’s cheek to whisper in and nibble on her ear, her warm, moist breath electrifying Penny straight down into the center of her captive brain.  “I only have one purpose, one need.  To make men serve my every other.”  She snorted and clarified:  “Men and boys and little girls like you, Pleaser.”

“So here’s the point, missy.”  She rose back up, Penny whining with need and loss as she did so, continuing to hold Penny’s wrists in her left hand and Penny’s hair in her right hand so they could both enjoy their natural positions as captor and captive.  She slowly, gently, carefully rolled her hips back again, knowing how close to the edge they were, even without Penny’s many overt signs of desperation.  “I refuse to take you now, Penny.  If that’s what you’re looking for, playing out some little consensual-nonconsent fantasy of yours, we can just stop, because this isn’t about you.”  She stopped moving and even pushing down on Penny for several beats, shrugging to demonstrate how easy it was for her; how unmoved and in control she could be; how much stronger her will was than Penny’s.  “I let you watch me, and worship me, and I’ve even laid my hands on you before.  The next stage—if and when you’re ready for seriously committing to me and opening yourself to me, the way I’m ready to do both for you—is about consummating our marriage.  Real men, and even most jawari, want that intimacy.  You know, the way weak girls want it and enjoy it most, the way that only a succubus like me can give to you.  Not to mention the closeness that only comes with being my wife.”

“For real intimacy, Penny,” she leaned closer, closing her eyes and softly kissing and rubbing her face all over Penny’s, the sweetness and innocence at direct odds with her grip on Penny’s wrists and hair, laughing as Penny began helplessly trying to reach her again. “For real intimacy, we both have to be there, together, wanting it.  Wanting one another.”  She pulled back slightly, her eyes innocent and wide, batting them.  “So tell me, darling girl, what do you want?”

“You, Domina,” she squealed desperately, making Channah laugh with pleasure.  “Only you.  Totally you.”

Literature Section “06-95[X] Edgeplay:  Channah Teases Penny Toward a Hot Mess”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 95 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1509 words::Explicit 1646 words—Accompanying Images:  1820-1823—Published 2025-05-19—©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.


1816 06-94 The sacred, the profane, and the damned
1817 06-94 This is your bible now.  And I am your priest
1818 06-94 The Succubaean Bible is your training manual now, bitch
1819 06-94 Penny practices what she’s been taught

Explicit version containing masturbation, CBT, chastity, and edgeplay themes at 06-94X What Channah Wants, Channah Takes at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  After teasing and using Penny, Channah began explaining the succubae’s view of chakras and the functions served by the magical bonds she has locked onto (and into) Penny’s body.  Then she finally started to drop the other high-heeled shoe on Penny’s head.  NOW:

“I love you.  I want you, the you that you want to be.”  She shrugged.  “If that’s a big, gorilla-like, hairy he-man, that’s who I want you to be, and that’s what you’ll become when you truly, deeply, willingly surrender yourself to me!  But if you’re sincerely a woman… I mean, I know, you must know, we nurtured your interest in being a girl all along, but it was only for you, because we sensed the powerful feminine energy in you.  Doing that, while the rest of the world nurures your masculine side, gives you real choice so you can freely decide, having lived as both a boy and a girl.  But I’m confident it was the right thing to do, because you were so obviously meant to be a girl.  That first time Chas confessed to you…” she giggled, Penny’s mind reeling at the idea Chas had shared their most-private conversations with the Court, and the succubae had known the things that had passed between them, for so long.

“Oh, I don’t want to get rid of anything you value.  I love all the parts of you that you love.  And believe me, we know what parts you love and how much you adore them.  The parts of you that you can hardly take your hands off.”  She giggled as Penny’s expression changed.  “So… vulnerable.  So… easy and urgent and ardent.  And now, mean Auntie Channah has taken away your ability to play all those little games you and her like to play with one another…”.

Penny’s face was positively incandescent, the asymmetry in knowledge between her and her masters so pronounced it took her to a whole new level of vulnerability and she wished there were somewhere, anywhere she could crawl away in and hide. 

But Channah continued, only her obvious amusement betraying her awareness of Penny’s intense embarrassment.  “It would be a crime to get rid of an important part of what makes you so…” the palms of her hands were warm, sliding across Penny’s chest, her shoulders and upper arms, and even her neck, combining reassurance and gentleness with their counterpoints of control and even bullying.  When her fingers passed over Penny’s nipples, they might pinch.  Or after a particularly thrilling run up Penny’s side, they might slap.  And when she worked Penny’s neck… she wasn’t just stroking Penny’s neck, she was pushing Penny’s chin up.  So gently at first, that Penny didn’t even recognize what was happening.  Then, it became a pleasant, masterful manipulation making her feel a warm, giddy vulnerability, being was in Channah’s hands.  Only finally, at the end, did her manipulations become so forceful they made Penny understand Channah would push her chin up as hard as she wanted to, whether Penny was okay with it or not.  The odd combination of reassurance and dominance was deliberately provocative, testing Penny and demanding she override her instinct to resist or beg off to instead go along with Channah’s will.  Demanding she see that she wanted to.  And Penny did go along with her, of course, blushing at the demonstration of her natural submissiveness to Channah, as her neck cramped and her clitty twitched traitorously from the discomfort and passivity Channah required of her.  Was Channah right about Penny?

But Penny decided she knew this answer from experience already, maybe from the first time she had been in Channah’s presence, and felt her power:  Channah was always right.  Channah had lived a hundred times longer than Penny.  What could there be she hadn’t seen, experienced, lived through, learned about?  Of course, she saw Penny’s heart more clearly—and much earlier—than Penny herself, could.  Doubtless it was easier to see for Channah, too, because she relished what she saw; whereas for Penny… Channah was showing her she was not who she had thought she wanted to be.  Certainly not what society and the church wanted her to be.

“You’re so pliant.  And you know how much pliant girls turn me on.”  Channah dove down upon Penny again, her raptor’s teeth nipping at Penny’s lip just enough to shock, her arms seizing Penny’s wrists, using them for support and more-than-incidentally pinning her down, grinding down into Penny’s as she closed her mouth over Penny’s again and returned her demon’s tongue into Penny’s compliant mouth.  Penny moaned softly and Channah felt her naked truth, the truth confessed by her unshielded body, with no mistake:  Being kissed so forcefully made her little submissive girl melt again.  Channah felt Penny’s hips and clitty start to twitch underneath her, not with resistance, but with desperation.  She felt her girl’s knees and feet coming up along the sides of Channah’s hips and legs like a lover welcoming her master into her body, but too timidly to circle around her master’s legs and ass without permission.  She felt the girl’s arms go limp under the silent mandate of Channah’s hands.

Laughing fitfully and talking sporadically as she continued to make out with Penny, whose breathing was becoming ragged, Channah continued:  “I know, I know… boys, and girls with little clitties like yours, turn me on.  Succubae are built to enjoy you, and to make you respond to us the way we want you to.  But I especially like pliant girls.  More than anybody.”  She emphasized her point with a shivery wiggle of her hips.  “And I can—tell you especially like me.”

She whispered in Penny’s other ear, brushing her lips against it as she spoke:  “Don’t you want boobies, baby?  And—you pervert—dainty soft little feet?  And hips—I know you’d like to have wide, sexy hips and a thick juicy stern that you can lust after in your own mirror.  Don’t you?  Don’t you?”  She laughed especially hard, catching sight of the surprise and trapped look in Penny’s eyes.  “Or wait.  You want to be a girl, but you don’t actually like girls—is that it?” She raised her head, pursing her lips to massage the moisture from their kisses into the rim of her mouth, looking at him questioningly.

“Yes—no—I mean, I like girls, Domina,” Penny managed hoarsely, her mind struggling and halting in its efforts to think, unsure how much she meant she was attracted to women’s breasts, how much she wanted to please her Domina, and how much she just hoped to make the conversation move on to something less dangerous and confusing.  She was feeling all three of them, truly.  But the part she couldn’t help blurting out was:  “And—and I especially like you, Domina.  I—I truly love you,” she whispered.

“Awwwww….” And this earned Penny Channah’s full attention for several minutes before she broke their kiss and spoke again:  “And I especially like girls like you,” Channah agreed, trailing off, eyes unfocused but pointed at her hands and fingers, which were suddenly stroking Penny’s chest and rubbing Penny’s nipples.  “I want you to have boobies I can suck on.”  Penny gasped as Channah’s sultry eyes rose and met hers, defying her to look away.  “And a big round sissy bottom that jumps and wiggles like a pert girl when I slap it.”  Penny practically started hyperventilating as Channah slappic.  “And, and…” a long pause followed as they kissed, nothing other than moans—in Penny’s case, verging on whines, especially when Channah used her knees and legs to force Penny’s higher and wider.  “I—” even Channah was gasping now “—I want you to fill out a dress to your full potential.  You’re so pretty, Penny.  Mmm… If you had the hips and the bust to fill out your dresses completely…” she flicked her tongue obscenely and made a noise that almost sounded like a wolf’s bark, while Penny felt herself melting like bright pink strawberry snow.

Literature Section “06-94[X] What Channah Wants, Channah Gets”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 94 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1298 words::Explicit 1322 words—Accompanying Images:  1816-1819—Published 2025-05-18—©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.


1814 06-93 You need to be at peace with your place, slave
1815 06-93 Oh, did I forget to mention the scary side-effects?

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah has been passionately and aggressively dominating and making out with Penny, teasing the girl relentlessly.  Now she wants more than Penny’s consent to take advantage of her.  Oh, and there was something about unexplained magic having to do with the jewelry partially implanted in Penny while she was insensate… NOW:

Channah snorted at Penny’s choice of pronouns.  “I knew you would choose to call it mine,” she shook her head, lips tight and flat in a mixed expression of amused, but exasperated, affirmation.  “Still so hesitant to admit who you are, and how invested in our… entanglement you are.  We’ll continue working on that.  Yes.  It’s my fruit, the medlar.”  Pressing on it, emphasizing Penny’s tenderness for a quick second, she explained.  “It’s the last of my wedding gifts to you.”  She looked up expectantly.

“Thank you, Domina,” Penny managed, knowing she expected it and wanting to please her even while she was in shock about being locked up with yet another chain by her Master.  This one had been not merely locked onto her body—like her collar and cage—or stuffed into her body like the tickler, but had been threaded through her organs and skeleton in a way Penny had only seen meat being sewn up for cooking.

Channah nodded briefly, pleased, and was about to speak further; but Penny’s anxiety about what had happened to her while she was banished from the world—and thus, from her own body—was so great that despite her training in passivity and receptiveness, she couldn’t help herself.  She blurted out:  “What does ‘Manipura’ mean, Domina?!” Her own voice sounded to her like the wail of an imperiled maiden struggling not to panic.

Fortunately, delight in her distress seemed to displace any irritation with Penny’s uppityness and with a surprised look, she observed:  “You’ve never asked before.  I thought perhaps you were familiar with the chakras?”

“No, Domina, please explain them to me?” Penny pleaded.

“In India, Hinduism and Buddhism have a tradition of practicing meditative arts known as tantra.  The chakras are various focal points in the body they concentrate on in a variety of their meditative practices, to help influence energy flows within the body.”  Channah shrugged.  “The actual human connection to the divine…. Isn’t known to us, regardless of which tradition—that is to say, religion—it falls under.  As far as we know, influencing energy flows may be genuinely part of the divine or simply a conceit by superstitious humans.  Or, most likely, it may be a form of magic acting on them internally.  That’s what we use the chakras for—to manipulate the flow of magic through living bodies.”

She noticed Penny’s frown of confusion and frustration, and held up her palm.  “Don’t even bother to ask me about how or whether tantra actually works.  For us, what matters is, the same or similar focal points are useful in directing the flow of magic through the body.”  With a smirk, she placed her hands on Penny’s collar and neck, pressing down and squeezing enough to remind Penny (as if she needed the reminder) of Channah’s strength and control.  “The Vishuddha is where we begin.  It relates to communication and thus to hierarchy and interpersonal relations.  It’s why your collar is so effective at linking us together, practically melding our souls to one another.  As you already know, it also has to do with longevity.”

She twitched her hips:  “Your Svadhishthana… maybe you understand this one already?  Maybe you feel it?” She taunted Penny mercilessly, laughing archly at her wince of pain as Channah caused her to push her literal and unforgiving limits.  “It is all about sex, procreation, and creativity.  Lift your legs,” she commanded, rising up higher on her knees, and when Penny hesitated she prompted him:  “Come on!  Legs up!  Right now!”  And as soon as Penny raised them, confused, she reached back to swat her, hard, on the bottom, then slammed back down on her midsection knocking her legs back down to the ground.  “Your Muladhara is your root.  It goes to basic trust, core emotional state, and foundational energy.  Does my presence there make you feel vulnerable?”  And she twisted Penny, not brutally, but across a range of her insides so broad it took her breath away, making her feel like she was so full everywhere she was about to explode.

“Yes, Domina, yes!” Penny yelped, her frantic expression and wide eyes giving Channah a thrill of pleasure. 

“I’ll bet you do.  I’ll just bet.”  And she relaxed her grip, a vise becoming a warm supporting hand.  “And when we’re united, top and bottom together, as we should be?  A whole?  When you’re good to me and obedient and when I’m pleased with you, so we feel trusting and connected to one another?  How does that make you feel, sweetheart?  Safe and secure?”

“Yes, Master,” Penny sighed, so relieved and submissive she almost sounded strangled. 

“Which brings us to our fourth bond.”  She played with her belly-button, then ran her fingers over Penny’s tummy and chest, causing her to gasp.  “Your new Manipura ring.  It’s about enhancing your wisdom and power.  It will also make you see more clearly and make your feet more sensitive.”  She giggled throatily.  “I’m going to take full advantage of that, believe me!  Today, here, in the hetaraslakos, is all about power.  But I’m sure, becoming more powerful doesn’t worry you.  It’s the acceptance of wisdom.”

“Why—why would wisdom worry me?”  Penny asked fearfully, knowing full well there was something Channah was preparing to drop on her.  Something big, that Penny was going to find upsetting.  Unless she’d just been messing with Penny’s head earlier….

“The ultimate wisdom is knowing and accepting—no.  More than that:  knowing and embracing!  Enthusiastically embracing who you are and the world you live in so you can live the life you were meant to live.  The Manipura ring provides the magic to help you realize the person you truly are, if you’re worthy enough. But you have to be able to admit it to yourself.  If you can’t, our connection will never be complete and we can never have the relationship I want us to have, that I’ve been trying to build with you.  It’s so important, Penny, I hope you can see that.  It’s called a realization spell.  Whoever you are, whatever you are, at your most basic level… the magic senses it, and helps you become the person you want to be.  It relates to morganatic marriage because it helps ensure a good match for the Domina and a loving, unconflicted girl who can focus her energies on her Domina’s problems, instead of selfishly obsessing on herself.  The subordinate, or base—” she pointed down at him “that’s you, precious—proves that she is worthy of the marriage by surrendering herself completely to her top.  And in return, having shown that her true self is devoted to her master, she gets to become that true self.  I mean…” she began, convincingly, as if she felt shy about discussing it, lending a charming vulnerability to her speech.  It seemed she was barely able to meet Penny’s eyes but had to steal up to meet with them until Channah’s clear, innocent eyes were Penny’s whole world.  Somehow, at some point, while Penny was being tied in knots by Channah’s entrancing face, her hips had started to move again down below, talking to Penny’s body behind her back and bringing the pain and the aching, aching deep desire back up to the maximum.  “I keep calling you my ‘wife’ and my ‘bride’ and my ‘housegift.’  Could I spell things out any more clearly?”

“What?”  Penny whispered, her mind whispering that she knew, but unable quite to accept it or to put it all together.

Literature Section “06-93 Penny’s Yoga Lesson”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 93 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1254 words—Accompanying Images:  1814-1815—Published 2025-05-17—©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.

1809 06-92 Channah acts surprised Penny feels violated
1813 06-92 Penance’s Manipura ring (pre-grafting)
1810 06-92 Penny may not be able to sleep tonight
1811 06-92 … Make that a week…
1812 06-92 In fact, Penny may never sleep again…

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah has been passionately and aggressively dominating and making out with Penny, teasing the girl relentlessly.  Now she wants more than Penny’s consent to take advantage of her.  NOW:

“What I want now is your full-fledged participation.  I love you, honey, and I’d really like to fuck you.  But if you’re not ready, that’s okay.  I’m never going to force you again.  Unless you beg first,” she amended flirtatiously.  “If you’re not interested in loving me, I can exclusively take my pleasures elsewhere.”  She shrugged, looking disappointed, and started to lift off Penny, watching curiously at the intense emotions overwhelming the girl, washing and flashing across her eyes.

“NO!  No, no, Domina, I realized—I swore—in that place—I’m yours.  I love you, I’m yours,” she clarified emphatically, reaching to take Channah’s hand urgently, pleadingly, and kiss her knuckles with her eyes closed in passion.  It was the first active motion she had made since being ordered to show passivity towards Channah.

“Aww… that’s sweet,” Channah conceded, meaning it, and settling back down on top of her, their bare flesh sparking with electricity as Channah pretended to rearrange herself, letting them feel one another sliding against each other, separated only by the cruel barrier securing Penny.  She frowned curiously, as if she was confused.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Domina.  Yes, ma’am, I’m sure.  I’m sure!”

“But…” she raised her finger to her chin, looking into space thoughtfully, then sharply looked back down.  She was making fun of Penny, and Penny felt the heat in her face.  “But… I thought you knew what I wanted.”

“I do.  I do, Domina!”

With a twitch of the lip revealing the fun she was having, she leaned down again, resting her elbows on Penny’s shoulders and folding her arms, looking straight down into the submissive girl’s eyes.  “What’s that?” 

“what, Domina?” Penny asked in a small voice.

“It’s not a difficult question, darling girl.  What. Do. I.  Want?  I just want to make sure you understand.  Because this time, it will be about your thorough and enthusiastic participation.”

“My—” Penny’s face went red, her eyes popped, and her voice turned into a squeak.  “What?”

Channah kept her lips pressed together but laughed merrily behind them, in the worst attempt ever to conceal mirth.  Finally she rolled her eyes and gave up, sounding positively delirious.  “Penny, my love, I’ve never seen such a face before!  Regretfully, while I appreciate your efforts, it doesn’t seem like you’re serious about wanting what I want.”

“I am, Domina, I swear!  I want you to get what you want!”

She snorted, turning up her nose.  “Not quite the same thing, is it, muffin?  And certainly not enough for me.  I’m not bargaining with you, I’m explaining how it is.  Drawing a line in the sand.  No more half-measures, sweetie.  No more pretending to be a damsel in distress while I play the bad girl.”  She shrugged, sitting up and rolling Penny’s nipples between her fingers.  “Unless, that is, you’ve already convinced me you really, desperately want me to be your bad girl, and you to be my sweet little damsel in distress.”  Penny drew a sharp breath, as startled as she pretended to be confused and fascinated.  “Well, I love to act and to play games.  You know that.  But with my wife, I want more.  I want to know you’re really with me.  That you like appeasing me.  Is that so unreasonable, for a Domina to want that from her housegift?” she asked, with wide-open innocent eyes.

“No,” Penny croaked, “Of—of course not, Domina.”

She smirked, tickling Penny’s nipples.  “You showed your true colors already, under me in the satanikoklus, didn’t you babygirl?”  She laughed, and laughed even harder at Penny’s mortification to be reminded of how submissive she had been for Channah.  “Look at you.  You’ve been waiting for me your entire life, haven’t you?  While trying to pretend you weren’t.  This time, I won’t shoulder that burden for you.  Playing is one thing.  Hypocrisy and denial are another.  This time, I can’t have either of us experiencing any doubt about whether we’re playing together, as a couple, or if I’m being some… beast,” she pouted, her fingers tracing Penny’s chest.  “I need to know, and even more… you need to know, sugar pie.  Well, to admit it.”  She looked off towards one side, speaking too casually:  “This isn’t just about my insecurity, or a wife making her Domina feel loved, you know.  The magic simply won’t work unless you’re totally sincere.”

“The… magic?”

“In all the excitement and being overwhelmed, you haven’t even noticed it yet, have you, my sweet little cherry?”

“Noticed what?” Penny asked, hoarse again, eyes darting and scanning.  Channah raised a finger and circled it in the air, like a hawk circling and watching for potential prey, the circles getting smaller as she brought it down over Penny’s torso, continuing to tighten in until her finger pressed on Penny’s navel.

“Is your belly-button a little sore, darling?”

“What—yes!  My whole tummy but I thought—” she exclaimed in surprise, raising her head to look down at her stomach, feeling disoriented, almost a touch queasy, at more evidence of how thoroughly she had been separated from her body, from the world, from reality itself.  A tiny ruby fruit, round like an apple, but with distinctive gold prongs ringing one end like a crown, glittered in a gold setting, pinned to her body with two gold piercings, one in the center of her navel, and the other in the flat skin immediately above the edge of her navel.

“The ring—more of a wire, really—stretches down into your tummy and anchors it around your intestines and spine.”  Penny gasped in a fascinated horror at the idea, and at the idea of the ring penetrating her—if it had even been her, when she was, well, gone.  Horrified at being penetrated at all, freaked out about the penetration being so deep, and especially feeling uneasy that such a thing could have occurred without her knowledge.  “Anchoring it to your spirit there.”

“What—what is it, Domina?” Penny asked fearfully.

“It’s your Manipura ring.  Of course,” she shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Stuffy old swamis and yogis would quibble with our understanding and usage of the chakras and related concepts.  But how would any of them know more than us about succubaean magic?  Or where to seize and pin down parts of the souls of humans?”  The answer—to Channah, but certainly not Penny, who had no idea what she was talking about—was obvious:  “They wouldn’t.  Do you recognize it?” she asked curiously, with a mischievous smirk.

Penny, staring at it, made the connection and recognized it.  “It’s—it’s the same thing, the fruit, on the paddle—a medlar!”

“Very good, child!  But describe it accurately.  My paddle, acknowledging my ownership,” she corrected.  “Or recognizing your chattel status, your paddle.  Either one is acceptable, but not merely ‘the’ paddle.”

“Your paddle, Domina,” Penny corrected herself, red-faced.

Literature Section “06-92 Channah Demands More Penance”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 92 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1154 words—Accompanying Images:  1809-1813—Published 2025-05-16—©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.

1806 06-91 I’m NOT ignoring your misery.  I fucking love it!
1807 06-91 Make that sad face and noise again for me, bitch!
1808 06-91 Why torture YOURSELF?  That’s MY job

Explicit version containing masturbation, chastity, and orgasm themes at 06-91 Penance Yields at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah is passionately and aggressively dominating and making out with Penny.  NOW:

The weaker girl was going nowhere without Channah’s permission, her body overwhelmed almost as fully as her mind, neither of them capable of offering Channah anything resembling resistance—only compliance and cooperation.

“Mm…”. Channah slid her lips across Penny’s cheek and growled in her ear, “Feel how desperate you are.  You’re a bit of a slut, aren’t you?”

“Oh yes.  Yes I am, Master!  Domina!”  Penny cried, and then almost screamed:  “Please free me Mistress, I can’t stand it!”

She just giggled, her hips moving faster and faster while Penny remained frustrated.  If it had been an ordinary item of such elaborate jewelry, she couldn’t possibly have used it this way.  Even the finest jeweler in the world could hardly smooth every edge and facet of each stone and the gold metal joining them, perfectly enough to feel this good.  But her metalsmith was so connected with her media she might have done, even without the thin layer of clear ceramic or glass she had used to finish the piece, making it a smooth and perfect whole instead of multiple different components held together with settings and cement.

“Who do you belong to?”  Channah demanded bitchily, smirking.

“Yours!  Of course, yours, Domina! Ha-ha-haaugh!”  the last of it was not laughter, but something much closer to a desperate crying that made Channah even hotter. 

“I’m sorry, what were you asking me about?  I can’t remember,” Channah’s lips tightened and struggled to remain sealed over Penny’s when she was smiling this widely, but Penny didn’t seem to mind any more than her Domina, who was moving at a jackhammer pace, a low animal sound beginning in the back of her throat.

“PLEASE let me out, Domina!” Penny wailed around Channah’s lips when Channah darted her head down to nip her ear. 

“nehhh-verrr,” she whispered softly in the same ear, pushing down on the girl’s pinned wrists to reinforce her control, barely able to speak between her own moans.  And then:  “Suffer for me, bitch!”

“I am!” Penny screamed, and Channah roared, as Channah’s hips and body shifted from a piston motion to a pure shudder that gripped her from head to toe.

“Oh, Domina, oh, Mistress, no, it’s not fair!  It’s not fair!”  Penny howled, making a broken pouting sound, as Channah gasped and cried out with her slow, shuddering return, enjoying every lingering moment, just as she was enjoying squeezing every drop of sadistic joy from Penny’s protests and whines and unavailing struggles under her for relief.

“No—no, it’s not, is it?”  Channah laughed throatily, shoving her tongue hard down Penny’s throat and holding it, even as she straightened all her limbs out to the four corners around them and lay on Penny as her final shivers subsided, ignoring or perhaps enjoying Penny’s miserable sounds, and restless movements of discomfort.

When Channah was finally still, and not only the shivering, but the tingling sensation singing in every one of her nerve ends finally started to calm, she rested her hands on Penny’s forehead and lay her cheek on top of them, to relax.

“No-ho-ho-ho-ho….”  Penny moaned, quiet in her misery so as not to disturb Channah’s relaxation.

Finally, Channah sighed.  “What a good, passive, respectful mattress you make, Penny dear.”  Drawing languidly back and resting her elbows on Penny’s chest, feeling very satisfied and calm, while Penny’s body was still rigid and singing with both desire and pain, she crossed her upper arms and looked down into Penny’s eyes, eating up her compliant, accepting misery.  She practically purred, as she wiggled her hips again, just enough to let Penny know she was thinking about the girl’s unhappiness.  “What?” she asked playfully.

“Oh…”. Penny groaned, rolling her eyes.

“I asked you a question, bitch.”

Penny looked surprised.  “You know my—my—” she struggled for a word.

“My little girl,” she proposed.

“Yes, Domina.  Your little girl… You make me sooo hot, Domina, you’re so hot and—and the way you move…”

“How I move?” she prompted, wiggling her hips again for a moment.

“You’re so—lithe, so serpentine…”

“Oh, hush,” she rested one finger across Penny’s lips, just enjoying pushing her buttons and pushing her around, like a cat playing with a toy, or perhaps a victim.  “You don’t have anything useful to say.  Serpentine?  Darling, have you forgotten what I’m capable of?  Am I not a serpent when I want to be?  What I did had nothing to do with my serpentine side.” 

Then she frowned down at her girl, grasping and squeezing her cheeks, unnecessarily hard, not really to control her head, but simply to get her attention.  To bring her eyes, which were rolling and wandering practically independently of one another, back into focus attentively on her master.

“You know what I want.  You’ve known it for days.  And I already told you that’s how you could get what you want, just like Chas.”

Penny started nodding, in fear, yes, but for the first time, something more than fear—a desire for closeness, perhaps, or simply to obey and to avoid disappointing her hell-goddess—competing with it in her eyes.  When she spoke, it was in a small, uncertain voice:  “I—I will submit to you, Domina, you know I will.  Please, Domina, do what you want to do.  Take what you want from me.  Please, Domina.”

“Hunh-unh,” Channah shook her head, smiling smugly.  “I’ve already done that.  We’ve already established I can take what I want, anytime I want, haven’t we?” she asked, sniggering when she felt Penny move under her.   “Answer me,” she slapped Penny’s cheek lightly.

“Yes, Domina,” she answered, nodding sheepishly.

“And I can intimidate and bully you into doing what I want, even when you hate the idea, can’t I?”

“Yes, Domina,” she whispered. “That’s pathetic,” Channah shook her head, her smirk of contempt and satisfaction almost becoming a sneer again.

Literature Section “06-91[X] Penance Yields”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 91 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 979 words::Explicit 1086 words—Accompanying Images:  1806-1808—Published 2025-05-15—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

1803 06-90 A Sermon on Abstinence–Love vs Sin
1804 06-90 A Test of Strength–Resisting the Temptation of Jezebel
1805 06-90 Liberation Theology–The Book of Revelation

Explicit version containing masturbation, chastity themes at 06-90X Tongue-Tied Penance at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman.

PREVIOUSLY:  Penny emerged from total isolation to a crashing overload of sensation to find herself, physically naked and emotionally-wrecked, in Channah’s protective, affectionate embrace.  Comforted by her, overwhelmed by the need and longing she had felt to be saved by Channah, and the reality of being saved by her, she accepts Channah’s kiss.  NOW:

Penny melted into Channah’s kiss, something starting as a sigh becoming a moan of passion, her passion dissolving all conscious thought in her, her body twitching unbidden and unintended.  Channah’s tongue tickled her lips, caressed her teeth, and flirted with Penny’s.  Penny reciprocated, automatically, wanting to feel more of her Domina, and suddenly she felt Channah’s hand around her chin and cheeks, pushing her face away and holding her still. 

Surprised, she whispered:  “Please—don’t stop,” her eyes swimming back into focus and finding Channah’s, inquiring.

“I won’t,” Channah shook her head decisively, squeezing Penny’s cheeks with the hand that was holding them.  Penny didn’t lift a finger to disentangle herself.  She wouldn’t.  She couldn’t even imagine it.  “But you need to.”

“I–?”  Penny didn’t even know what she was talking about.

“I like to tongue-dance, but reciprocating is a pleasure I associate with men.  Are you a man?”

Penny stared at her, pinkening, before admitting in an embarrassed squeak:  “No, Domina.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Oh, yess,” Penny gushed, practically swooning at the thought.   “Please!”

“Then you need to keep your tongue passive when we kiss.  It’s not to move more than minimally necessary, and it should stay on the floor of your mouth, out of my way, at all times.  Anything else will be considered resistance and obstructionism.  Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Domina, ofph coursze,” Penny nodded, practicing and sensing what it felt life for her tongue to remain supine in her mouth.  “But why?”

“Wait, remind me… do I need a reason?” she asked, curiously.

Penny reddened.  “No, of course not, Domina.”

“That’s right!  Do you know, my metalsmith and I invented restraint devices long, long ago?  We did!” She sniggered with pleasure at the recollection, taking her hand off Penny’s jaw and moving it straight down the front of Penny’s body, tickling her and eliciting a whining sound she seemed to take delight in.  “It looks like something’s pinching you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Domina.”

“Maybe I should talk to her about designing a restraint for your tongue.  The trick would be, designing one that keeps your tongue under control without interfering with speech or eating.  You won’t be of nearly as much use to me if you can’t speak,” she mused, her finger on her chin again, pretending to consider it seriously.  “Perhaps a tongue stud with a little chain, connecting it to a post in the floor of your mouth?”

Penny was scared.  “What are you talking about, Domina?  I don’t understand!  I don’t want to do anything wrong, Domina, I promise.  I want to be your good girl.”

Relenting, she smiled fondly.  “I know you do, dear.  Then obey me.  If I really needed your tongue to stay inside your mouth, you would be in tongue-restraint, to keep it away from females of any species—human, demonic, or otherwise—by even a quarter-inch.  I’m just commanding you to be passive when we kiss because I like it!  I like reminding both of us I’m your Domina, and you’re my jariya.  Do you have a problem with me exercising my prerogatives to humiliate, belittle, or otherwise put you down for no reason other than my own pleasure?” she asked challengingly.

Penny shrank back slightly, eyes wide, and shook her head, disconcerted as always by the part of her that liked the way she treated her.  “No, Domina.  Not at all, Miss.”

“Oh, that’s good,” she snickered.  “ ‘Not at all, Miss.’  I like that answer.  Then keep every part of you, however… small…” she smiled wickedly, tickling Penny again.  “Out of my mouth.  Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Domina.  I’ll be good,” Penny promised, opening her mouth and leaning up towards Channah.

Channah leered at her, bringing her hand back up to take hold of Penny’s jaw and shove it back down, considering Penny.

“Ahm sahy,” Penny apologized, keeping her mouth open and her tongue down. 

“You look ridiculous!  No—hold it open, I like it when you make a fool of yourself for me.”  She laughed, both at Penny’s obedience, and how crestfallen she looked.  She moved her hand back to Penny’s body again, enjoying Penny’s desperate squirming.  “Does it hurt?”  she asked archly, both of them knowing exactly what she meant.

“Yeshmaahm,” Penny nodded earnestly, making her laugh even harder.

“Good.  Suffer for me, my little pretty.”  And like a bird of prey diving to rip some hapless little fish from a stream, or some harmless little varmint from a field of grass, she dove her head back down again, sealing their mouths together and slithering her tongue back into Penny’s mouth again, relishing Penny’s moans of combined lust and discomfort, while her hand continued to play gently with Penny as her tongue ravished Penny’s mouth. 

Penny raised her arm towards Channah, not to be uppity, but automatically, wanting to touch her more, and she laughed into Penny’s mouth as she seized Penny’s wrist and slammed her arm back onto the mattress. 

Rolling expertly on top of her jariya, she broke their kiss just long enough to raise her dress above her waist before sliding down to straddle Penny’s hips, cooing and sliding her other lips up and down over Penny’s chastity as her tongue got back to its ravishing. 

Her tongue, much longer than Chas’s, and apparently more flexible, not only tickled her lips, caressed her teeth, and petted her tongue, it went wherever it wished, sliding between her jaws and her cheeks, and when she felt particularly devilish, ramming down into the back of Penny’s throat with eye-watering, gag-inducing force.  Channah obviously relished every second of Penny’s suffering, her eyes dancing as Penny choked and gasped, struggling for breath and baffled by the confusing messages on the back of her throat telling her body to swallow and to reject the invader.

She broke their conversation for a moment to ask:  “Can you feel the way I feel about you?”

“Oh, yes,” Penny groaned helplessly.  “Your skin is so slippery and smooth.  Ow it hurts…” she protested, not talking about Channah any more.

“I love it!  And I love you, my passive little bitch,” Channah growled, continuing to slide up and down, up and down, pressing harder for her own sense of closeness, before smashing her face back down on Penny’s, using her tongue to drive so deep down her throat that pure reflex made Penny try to escape, while Channah used the mattress beneath her and Channah’s mouth above her to trap her and hold her in place, leaving her little mouse with nowhere to flee. 

Literature Section “06-90[X] Tongue-Tied Penance”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 90 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1081 words::Explicit 1144 words—Accompanying Images:  1803-1805—Published 2025-05-12—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

1681 06-80 Perpetua and Felicity bring down the Colosseum
1682 06-80 Joyous Martyrs or Perverted Servants of Hell?
1683 06-80 With the fierce passion of St. Perpetua
1684 06-80 Gladiatrix and Martyr

Explicit version containing masturbation, orgasm, asphyxiation themes at 06-80X The Splaying of Chastity] at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Penny’s and Chas’s wrists are restrained.  They have been completely deprived of vision, hearing, smell, and taste, before being spun until losing their balance and sense of direction and falling onto the hard stone platform.  NOW:

Chastity lay on the stone, breath quick, heart beating rapidly, every fiber of her being focused on her periphery.  Like a bullseye lantern sweeping across a dark room, she scanned her own skin, from cute blonde locks to painted little toes, waiting for first contact:  anywhere, anything, stimulation, a signal that it was starting, and the first hint of what it might be.

She could not see.  She could not hear.  She could not smell.  And for good measure, she could not even taste.  They had taken everything external away from her except the warm stone beneath her and the hot, moist, still air around her; the air that pelted every inch of exposed skin with specks of sand every moment without the air itself joining.  That was her entire world.

There was fear; but her elevated pulse wasn’t entirely about fear.  She remained buoyed by the boundless, youthful expectation that what was coming would be better than before.

She had fallen on her back, shoulders and head raised on her elbows, legs spread wide, and she hadn’t bothered to think about her modesty.

When the first touch came, it was a soft kick to her side.  When that produced no response, it was followed by a harder and more insistent kick, immediately repeated, prompting Chas to struggle to roll herself over onto her front.  Next was a kick to the bottom of her shoe, repeated again until she moved it, bending her knee and then in response to a blow to the other sole, moving her other knee.  The kicks were repeated until she lay on her knees and her shoulders, one cheek pressed against the stone, like a frog with its arms tied behind its back. 

Someone lifted the back of Chas’s gown, pulling it up like a curtain until the entire dress, causing Chas a quick shiver.  She next felt the boots that had been kicking her sliding up the outsides of her calves, before being withdrawn.  A moment later they returned, this time between her legs, nudging her insistently to force her legs apart, the woman’s—she assumed it was one of the women—standing behind her, legs pressed against her hips. 

The woman did something with Chas’s chemise, the light linen smock under her dress—Chas couldn’t quite tell what, because it was such a light garment and only one among the many she wore.

The next thing she felt were fingers, insistent fingers, tugging fabrics around her sacrum and yanking them down around her knees.  Chas groaned, startled again by how much weaker and deeper her own voice sounded when every noise outside her body was taken from her absolutely.  She felt fabric being stuffed between her panty strings and her hips, before being used to tug her panties down.

Then the hands were gone, abandoning her back to her isolation, causing Chas to croak out a useless, drawn-out sound of protest.  How long would she be left here this time?  An hour?  Or only—

—a moment.  She was kicked in the side again and obediently rolled back over onto her back, like a dog being trained in the kennels.

Lying flat on her back hurt her arms and with a nervous swallow, she worked her elbows up towards her shoulders with difficulty, raising her shoulders again. 

Hands finished removing her unnecessaries.

The she felt boots between her legs again, pressing.

Chastity grinned, her skin tingling with anticipation…

Nothing.

Nothing happened.  Her smile faltered, and blurred into confusion and disappointment.

They’d left her!  For the first time she thought of Penny, her friend—and felt a stab of jealousy.  Were they turning their attention to her now?

Don’t ignore me!  Her mind hollered uselessly, so thoroughly separated from the world around her it could only express its longing with a rather desperate-sounding and ambivalent grunt of protest.

Finally it came, a testing of how easily he moved from side to side, to confirm what the carelessly-named Chastity already knew.  She felt her lips tightening again, in another pleased, only-slightly-guilty smile.

The hand withdrew and Chas moaned in disappointment.  Then gasped when two hands returned, tentative hands, not assured ones like the first.  These made no contact whatsoever with her skin; they were hyper-careful.  Chas felt no warm palm resting on her leg, no stray fingertips brushing the pulpy flesh at her base; only its housing being shifted, first to one side tentatively, then a second time, decisively, straight downwards, making her moan breathily.  Chas gasped as she dared to hope she knew what it portended…

Small movements around the place where the parts of her Svadhisthana device met.  Yesssss!  Chas sighed raggedly with relief and breathed even faster, panting, rolling her hips in silent entreaty for more attention, waiting to feel more aggressive hands…

Where were they?  She moued, only half-hearing the sound herself, the part inside her head, nothing after it left her body.  She brought her knees together and up to her chest, frantically moving them, breathing harder, unsure if she could even press hard enough.  Any second, she expected hands to stop her movement, prevent her from continuing; and when they didn’t come, she began hoping she could make it—

—she finished!  She just barely managed to, enough for relief but not satisfaction. She longed for the velvet glove of a woman holding him the way he was meant to be.

She could hardly remember the last time she had been left in such a place of gratitude and dissatisfaction.  Even as she felt the comfort of the afterglow, if she could have cried out properly, she would have remonstrated with fate and demanded a do-over!  She wanted more…

Literature Section “06-80[X] The Splaying of Chastity”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 80 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 948 words::Explicit 1199 words—Accompanying Images:  1681-1684—Published 2025-05-02—©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.

1662 06-78 It’s WAY too late for anyone to save you…
663 06-78 You belong to us now… plaything
1664 06-78 Oh, I’ll MAKE it fit…
1665 06-78 And then, I’m going to…

PREVIOUSLY:  For reasons of their own, Channah and Fang seem intent on training their qahramanat to degrade their jawari in front of legions of the damned.  Penny and Chas are already handcuffed, blindfolded, and gagged; but Channah and Esmeray are just getting started with them….  NOW:

Reliving the things that had been done to her, Penny made a quiet, desperate whining noise the rest of the world ignored, if it carried outside her body at all.  She had promised to trust.  She had to do that—had to trust in her Mistresses, and do what she had pledged to do.  Surely, that would get her through.  But why would it?  A traitorous part of her brain screamed that she had put herself into the hands of demons and madwomen.  A larger part told her she’d never had any choice in the matter.          

Heaven help me!

She made a whining noise nobody heard.  But she didn’t even know if heaven could hear into hell.  She sobbed, the sound immediately lost in the screaming din of the shouting devils and demons from below, eating sand again because Channah had stepped away for a moment, trying to tell herself she was grateful at least that being blindfolded, she no longer had to worry about her eyes.

Suddenly she jerked, feeling Channah’s fingers pinching her ear. 

“Be still!”  her Domina commanded her, an intimate whisper in her ear, as she pushed something through Penny’s ear canal inside her head.

As she did, that ear just… stopped.  More absolutely, more completely than Penny had ever experienced.  Unlike the thick, vague, bass sounds one could still hear in earmuffs or with hands over ears—suddenly, her left ear heard nothing.  The whole left side of her body felt—nothing!  Not a whisper.  She knew she still had sensation in her arms, legs, fingers, toes—but the totality of the silence on that side of her body caused her body to wonder, to demand, that the whole side of her had been numbed because nothing else made sense to it.

I promise I promise I promised….

When she felt Channah’s hand on her right earlobe, she jerked away, reflexively, even more strongly than she had before, crying out involuntarily, around her ball gag only to hear Channah laugh, quickly move her left hand under Penny’s chin, and pull her backwards and up into Channah’s shoulder. 

“Oh… it’s way too late for that, young lady.  You’re ours.  Body and soul.” 

And with that, she settled her hand against Penny’s neck to hold her tight, bit and held her ear in her teeth, enough to make Penny squeal in a painful protest, and used her right hand to press the second earbud in tight. 

Penny wailed in ineffectual, girlish protest, shocked as every scrap and hint of sound was eliminated from her world.  Her universe became instantly and totally silent.  It was as if she had been sealed away in a vault.  She was sure she was whimpering, but if she was, she could not even hear any hint of it through her own ears.

Her feet hurt, holding her weight in her high heels.  Her wrists were held tightly in the cuffs locked behind her back, her sight blinded by the blindfold, her mouth stuffed by the ball gag.  She was hyper-aware of the saliva gathering in her mouth, trying ineffectually to digest the heavy ball between her teeth; and of the fact that soon, very soon, she was going to start drooling, helplessly, like a dog. 

Smell!  She could still smell!  And Channah’s intoxicating, seductive succubus smell was perfect and brilliant, as if the scent of her managed to slip through the membranes of Penny’s nostrils and sinuses and seep straight into her brain, bathing and soothing it like a mother whispering to her baby at night…

Could she smell the sulfur of hell?  Yes, it was there, faintly; but like the sour under-note of a perfume, complemented and pushed to the subtle background by the sweeter and more-powerful notes of Channah, and Channah, and Channah…

There, down, far at the bottom, Penny found the subtle and vaguely-decayed smell of earth:  desert sand and black stone, perhaps mingled with a slight whisper of fungus lodged deep in the stones and their grout.

And she thought she smelled another, the scent of a person, hidden behind Channah’s at first, like a shy maiden in shadows behind her mother’s back, a musky smell demanding it be craved, a smell Penny couldn’t consciously remember ever smelling before, but suddenly identified because it was human and feminine and fiercely distinctive and she had been denied the benefit of most of her other senses:  Esmeray.

Now, still trying to recover some sense of normalcy and control after being deprived of hearing, Penny was turning her head from side to side and sniffing, trying to notice if there were any differences in different directions, and to confirm her memory of where she stood based on those differences.  But with Channah near—merciful as that was—there was no swirl of air or dust around them, nothing to bring more distant but localized smells to them.  If devils and demons had a smell separate from the brimstone and decay, she could not use it to locate herself.

It was at exactly that moment she felt it, fabric being pulled over her head.  A hood?  Really?  Wasn’t that overkill?  She already was unable to see or hear a thing—and as it came over her nose her shoulders slumped with the obvious realization.

It was a strong smell, a good one, nuanced and heavy and loaded with pheromones targeted straight at Penny’s deepest and oldest urges and memories:  Esmeray.  Esmeray’s panties, hung on her head.  She flushed as deeply red as she ever had, realizing what a stupid, helpless, pathetic idiot she was, and now looked like, dressed like a belle of the ball—the kinky bondage ball—in the middle of hell with a pair of another woman’s panties hung on her head like a scold’s bridle. 

She started crying, even before the next change, as whatever magic Channah had been talking about, or working, went into effect and she could smell nothing.  Nothing—immediately insisting to her brain she was locked in a clean, odorless, clinical space or Earthside desert.  In a way the silence and the darkness had not done, it fought; it persistently jarred, her senses fighting with her memory, the one insisting she was in a peaceful well-kept place on Earth, the other that she was on a sand-swept brimstone-stinking platform of Castle Chang’an in Hell, surrounded by her Mistresses and an army of demons and devils. 

Literature Section “06-78 The Sensory Deprivation of Penny”—Part 78 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1071 words—Accompanying Images:  1662-1665—Published 2025-04-30—©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.

1657 06-77 I like making them pee their panties...
1658 06-77 …so quiet she could hear her own heart beat…
1659 06-77 Isolated as the womb
1660 06-77 I said fucking MAYDAY!!!
1661 06-77 TOO LATE… Too Late… too late…

PREVIOUSLY:  Queen Channah has decided to take an opportunity to teach Hanim Qahramanah about how to train her girls, and combines the occasion with an early start to her honeymoon.  The girls are blindfolded and gagged with their hands secured behind their backs and their legs cuffed.  For reasons of their own, Channah and Fang seem intent on degrading their jawari in public, before legions of the damned.  NOW:

“The next question for you is where you want to go.  I’ve seen you staring at your fellow qahramanah….” Channah began.

They both looked at the glass panel where Hong had taken her jawari to begin their dance.  They remained staring for a moment, mesmerized, at what Hong was doing to her jawari, and what her jawari were doing for their qahramanah.  Indeed, one could hardly resist the urge to gawk at something like that.  Esmeray finally tore her eyes away and looked back at Channah:

“I admit Hong… may be able to teach me something.”

“You think?”

“But… comparing myself to her may be too much… pressure the first time.”

“I’d tell you it’s not a competition, but, well… you’ve made it one.  You can’t avoid her for long.  However, I agree with you:  you need to focus first on your own hive.” Channah shrugged.  “And in fact, if you need extra practice time with your jawari, you may have it whenever their other duties permit.  I will inform Fang the normal limitations on hetaraslakos time are not to apply to you and your girls until Hong agrees you are qualified to instruct them.”

“Until she—” Esmeray began, eyes flashing at Channah until she saw the logical trap there.  Her shoulders relaxed as she backed down from trying to challenge something she had first taken as an insult.  “Yes, Mistress.”

Channah nodded approvingly and swept her arm towards the opposite edge of the platform, the jungle gym.  “May I suggest…?”  Esmeray nodded her assent.  “But before we take our girls to the edge…”

“Is that where we’re going?”  Esmeray asked.  “Perhaps the first time—”

Channah made a sound of negation.  “We always take them to the edge.  The very edge.”

“So the damned can see them?”

“That’s a consideration,” Channah agreed, “Although they hear, smell, and even feel everything we do here at a very visceral level, it’s even better if they have a direct line of sight as well.  But it’s as much, or even more, about the experience of the girls.  The first lesson they need to learn is how utterly, completely, and totally they depend on us.  We are their mothers” (both boys stiffened and gasped, reacting instinctively and viscerally to that shocking suggestion, one they never would have imagined) “in the fullest meaning of the word:  their protectors, their caretakers, their helpers, their managers, their teachers, their guides, their bond, their apron strings, their heart, their masters, their very world.  They must learn that first.”

“How?”

“By taking away almost everything from them, reducing them to helpless, almost senseless, creatures.  Having only enough control to hurt themselves if they do anything other than obeying us completely, and only enough sensation to feel and anticipate the consequences of their own actions.”

“By using these.”  She produced four small, red rubber pellets from a small leather pouch, holding them out so Esmeray could examine them curiously. 

“Red?  Like the blindfolds and—”

“Exactly,” Channah agreed approvingly. 

“But not in Fang’s gift?”

“They were in the fourth box.  Too valuable and too vulnerable for hucows—except you, once you’re shown how to treat them—to be messing about with them, because unlike the others they’re heavily magicked.”

Esmeray looked at Channah, frowning, then half-smiling.  “And…?”

“And what?”

“There’s something else.  Something…” her face faltered.  “Something you’re wondering how to tell me.  Because… I’m going to hate it.”

“Not after you understand,” Channah dissembled, but admitted:  “At first, you may be startled, but truly, you don’t need to be agitated.”

“I’ll—fuck.”  Esmeray’s hands subconsciously moved to her waist as Channah gave a wintry smile.  “The scarlet panties.”

“The scarlet panties.  You’ve been wearing them three days?”

“And nights.  It’s been disgusting.”  She made a revolted face and shivered.

“Then you’ll be happy to be rid of them, won’t you?”

Esmeray turned crimson herself and strangled:  “It’s mortifying.”

“It’s magic.  Everything has a price.  You know that better than most.  And you’ll need to do it all over again next week.  But first, attend carefully.  We are about to make these girls ours—utterly and completely.” Channah held up her palm with the four plugs, picking up one with her left hand and using her right hand to catch Penny by the ear, startling her.  “Be still,” Channah hissed, again intimidating the younger girl into compliance.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Penny, will you trust me?

I will, Qahramanah.

Do you promise?

Yes, Mistress.  I promise to trust you.

Do you promise?  I promise….

Blind, gagged, with her arms now bound behind her back, the words echoed through Penny’s head like a mantra, or a security blanket, she could only hold onto desperately.   Panic tried to rise like bile from her gut if she would let it, so she repeated the phrase desperately in her mind, flipping back and forth like her own stomach was doing, sometimes feeling comfort, at other times, realization of her own anxiety.  She had given up every bit of control she ever had, to move, to speak, even to see.  Helpless, almost senseless, creatures.   Channah’s words resonated too in her mind.  The awareness of her situation settled around her like a stiff, chilly blanket taken from a freezer, that she could do nothing but wait:  Wait, to be commanded or forced to the will of another—by her Domina, her Qahramanah, or anyone in whose hands they might choose to put her.  Taking away almost everything from them… if they do anything other than obeying us completely.  

Trust… she had promised to trust… It felt at the time like the exchange had been a mutual pledge, as Channah had talked about it:  It was Penny’s place to trust, and Esmeray’s to protect.  Only… Esmeray hadn’t actually promised to protect Penny.  Had she?  And even if Penny hadn’t promised to trust Esmeray, she didn’t have the ability to do otherwise anymore, did she?

Penny was helpless, utterly helpless as a newborn lamb who could barely even hold her feet, in front of a tigress who had asked her:  Will you trust me?

What kind of lamb would say that to a tiger?  And have meant it?  What had she been thinking?!

I promise…

She had to trust; she had made sure to put herself in that position.

Only… now, in the worst moments, she wasn’t sure.  Did she really?  Or were her thoughts those of a child whistling to reassure herself against the dark?

Memories crowded her and crowed at her, pointing her attention toward the satanikoklus where she had been married, the futon in the private chapel, even the nettle field and the pigsty:  A bed-wetting tour of all the places she had been taken advantage of, helpless to stop what was being done to her, what Her Grace the Countess of Warwick had wanted for her, demanded of her, commanded others to do to her.  But I love her… she loves me… doesn’t she? 

I promise…

Literature Section “06-77 Dance of the Qahramanat XII”—Part 77 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1152 words—Accompanying Images:  1657-1661—Published 2025-04-29—©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.


1653 06-76 Which sacrament is this, father? (Chas)
1654 06-76 Inexperienced but not quite innocent (Chas)

1655 06-76 I’ve never dressed like that before, sir (Chas)
1656 06-76 Oh my, what is this for, Domina? (Chas)

PREVIOUSLY:  Queen Channah has decided to take an opportunity to teach Hanim Qahramanah about how to train her girls, and combines the occasion with an early start to her honeymoon.  The girls are blindfolded and bit-gagged with cuffs on their wrists and ankles.  NOW:

Last Chance to Run

“Last chance, girls, to prove you’re still wild and free things before we bind you,” she offered archly from her squatting position by their sides, looking up at them, curious to see how they reacted, while Esmeray looked at her like she was crazy.   “What?” Channah asked innocently, standing and walking to the box to look through it for what was left.

“You’re practically daring them to run away,” Esmeray protested.  “Implying they’re… domesticated little rabbits if they stay.”

“Ooh… I like that idea.  But they are my domestic little pets.  If they love me.  If they respect me.  If they trust me, they will stay and wait for whatever their Domina decides is best for them.”

“So much for ‘establishing control’ and ‘limiting variables,’” Esmeray exclaimed, exasperated.

Channah laughed, deep in her throat, perhaps a faint pink of embarrassment touching her features.  “You’ve got me.  I’m sorry, you’re right.  This is definitely a case of doing what I say, not what I do.  Do you know how long I’ve been controlling girls?”

“Some say five thousand years.  Others insist you were born at the dawn of time itself.”

“Is there a difference, darling?” Channah asked loftily.  “A long time.  Sometimes I long for something… anything! New and challenging.  And you are hardly one to complain about people who are too impulsive and defiant to follow good advice!”  Apparently in a mood, she looked up and snorted.  “Penny, dear, I would have expected you to offer some valuable and insightful riposte here.  Oh, wait, you can’t because we’ve gagged you!”  Both women seemed to think that was hilarious, and even Chas grunted behind her gag, while Penny, chagrined as she was, could only shake her head.

The sight of the brass crosses distracted Esmeray from her giggling, and she held one up.  “I want to use these, er…. Whatever they are?”

“The fact you can’t figure out what they’re for, dear girl, should suggest to you they’re rather advanced equipment.  I promise I’ll teach you how to use them… when the girls are ready.  We can keep them here and see if we feel ready next weekend.  If we tried them today, the girls might bolt after all!” 

“They didn’t think that was quite as funny as we did,” Esmeray observed.

“They won’t think it’s as funny when we use them, either.  But let’s just start with these.”  She handed Esmeray several pieces of heavy gold jewelry, each a good-sized ring with a spring-loaded hinged segment.

“I haven’t seen these before,” she frowned.

“Carabiners.  My operatives discovered them recently in the Holy Roman Empire.  I like to wear them on my wrists so I have them whenever I need them,” Channah demonstrated, stacking three on her right wrist and keeping the fourth ready in her left hand before walking behind Chas again, tugging her wrists behind her, and pulling the clasp back long enough to interlink it with the smaller gold rings attached to Chas’s wrist cuffs, securing her hands behind her.

Esmeray smiled and did the same to Penny, but said doubtfully:  “These are very convenient, but not very secure.  If they were left alone for a bit, they could probably escape.”

“Oh,” Channah laughed.  “You’re right.  We have locks and more-secure rings for leaving slaves bound.  And heavier ones still for unwilling partners and other prisoners who are more masculine.  These are made for one of two situations.  First, situations where you’re paying enough attention to the girls to prevent them from escaping.  That’s something these cuffs give you ample opportunity to accomplish, even with two brats on your hands.  Or second, to secure your bitches in a position where they can’t reach the rings no matter how hard they try.”

“How would that work?”

“I look forward to showing you, love,” Channah smiled happily.  “But the purpose of these is to allow you to actively control your partners, and to easily reposition them for your pleasure.  You’ll be amazed how effortless it becomes.  For you.”

Channah pulled two more brass frames from the box, these simple straight rods with rings at each end and periodically along the length.  She set them over her right shoulder as a soldier would carry a polearm to march, while she stepped beside Chas and took her by the arm with her left hand.  Esmeray again followed her example, but a little more impersonally, holding Penny’s upper arm in her hand and using her sleeve as added leverage, rather than intertwining their arms.  “Because they can’t see, you have to guide them and keep them safe, and they have to trust you, completely and implicitly.  In all things.”

“They’re helpless and dependent as infants,” Esmeray grinned.

“Like this, they are.  And they have to be as trusting as infants.  Whereas we can do anything we want with them.”  The girls shuffled nervously as this conversation transpired.

“Or to them,” Esmeray’s face darkened as her expression hardened.

“Breathe, Esmeray.  Breathe.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“You’re ready,” Channah assured her, holding her eyes and calming her. 

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you’re ready for…” Channah shrugged “whatever you’re ready for.”

“What does that even mean?  Mistress,” Esmeray added, recognizing her skepticism came dangerously close to sassing.

“I mean, you’re the one in control, sweetheart.  You get to decide what you and Penny do tonight.  Or don’t do.  Or if you do anything at all.  Look at poor Penny.”  Channah made a pouting face.  “She’s blindfolded so she can’t see, she’s gagged so she can’t speak, her arms are locked behind her back so she can’t do anything with her arms or hands… She’s not going to be deciding anything, is she?  What she wants or doesn’t want from you doesn’t matter at all.”  Esmeray perked up a bit, nodding thoughtfully, as Channah continued:  “You’re the one who brought us here. Otherwise, my housegifts and I might already be celebrating in paradise.  And you were right to do so.  I’m already overflowing with… all sorts of ideas.  Penny’s possibly the gentlest, most innocent girl her age in England.  She would positively bore women looking for adventure and a challenge—sorry, sweetie,” Channah patted his cheek, maybe sounding a little bit sorry even as she sounded a great deal spiteful, “But that makes her the perfect first plaything for you.  Even so.  If you just want to enjoy the feeling of her stockings?  That’s up to you.  If you decide you don’t want to do anything with her?  It’s your prerogative as her Qahramanah.”

Staring into space and swallowing, Esmeray took a deep breath, and looking Channah in the eye, reached down into the box and removed an item made of leather dyed black.  She breathed:  “Is this….”

“Oh, yes,” Channah confirmed.  “Like the cuffs:  for you to use on the girls, not to be used on you.  Unless you want to—”

“No,” Esmeray shook her head decisively and matter-of-factly.

“I certainly don’t need to use it,” Channah smirked.  “Unless you really want to punish Penny hard—and I won’t let you do that right before my honeymoon!—you’re also going to need this.” “I guess,” Esmeray shrugged, unconvinced, but accepting what Channah had proffered to her.

Literature Section “06-76 Dance of the Qahramanat XI”—Part 76 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1212 words—Accompanying Images:  1653-1657—Published 2025-04-28—©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.