Tag: lovespell

1881 06-109 Channah, Khan of an Unholy Hoard
1882 06-109 Channah, Master of Horses and Slavegirls alike
1883 Channah, Domina of Rome, Champion of the Colosseum

Explicit version containing orgasm, sodomy, and analpenetration themes at 06-109X The Last Sedcuction at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny are locked in an intense and passionate dance, Channah desperate for an intimacy she never imagined existed and Penny whipsawed by her deep responses to her alternating affection and abuse, all of it magnified by the larger powers unleashed by the darkest rituals of the succubae in this unholiest of places.  NOW:

Channah drove Penny like a charioteer driving her mare into a frantic lather at the colosseum, heedless of—no, reveling in—the damage and chaos she caused as chariots crashed and competing animals and drivers were destroyed all around her, a price she was willing to pay for her victory, and indeed enjoyed as a benefit of it.

Faster and faster, her hips powered her tattoo against Penny’s soft buttocks and thighs, sending the girl bouncing everywhere her position, hanging suspended by her wrists and ankles like a human swing over the fiery pit, allowed her to rock.  Channah gripped the railing above her, making hers a full-body workout, barely aware someone else was substituting in for Kadidia behind her,. 

One of the greatest benefits of the twister, Channah thought, not for the first time, was how it worked on both a succubus and her boy under the nearly-second-nature instinct of the succubus.  It was powered largely by her subconscious, becoming just another muscle flexing automatically, in conjunction with all her other muscles, to effectuate her desires.  It also allowed her to focus even more-selfishly upon her own pleasure and satisfaction, while it coiled and shifted and mustered itself to put just the right pressures, in just the right places, at just the right pace, to tease and torment her girls the way Channah liked to do, without Channah having to think too much about aiming or aligning herself with any particular part of a partner’s body. The twister did that for her.  Channah’s grunting became more and more primal as she warmed up again, so hot and high she almost imagined she could turn off the firehose of her seductive magic and still take this mood further by just riding it.  But maybe she was less confident of that than she ought to be.  What she told herself, was that she couldn’t risk letting up because for the sake of the ritual, she needed Penny to have conflicting experiences of pleasure and torment at once, while she experienced perfect bliss.

Channah’s eyes started fluttering as she threw her head back and roared like a lioness, hearing Penny’s strangled cries complementing her.  Oh!  She was so responsive, deeply and instinctively:  a perfect lover and plaything for a selfish bitch of a succubus.

Channah whispered another string of filthy curses, these all of human origin but from half a dozen different languages.  “I’m—soo proud of you, pretty girl!  You’re—almost done, baby!”  she assured her submissive lover.

“Yes, Domina!” she screamed agreement, misunderstanding.

“No—I mean—afterwards, when you’re really drained and at your lowest ebb—if I give you a turn, I’m going to need you to do something for me.  Really give it your all.”

“IF?!”  Penny wailed, uncomprehending.  “IF?!”  She wept.  “I don’t think I even want this!  Not—not this way, ooh, aah!  I don’t think I even should be able to—it’s not right—BUT I DON’T THINK STOPPING IS AN OPTION DOMINA!!!” she half-hollered, half-whined.  “I can’t—I can’t imagine—I can’t even think—oh, god, Domina!  What you do to meeeeee!”

“Yes, ‘if’ baby,” she insisted, hardly able to imagine it herself, and determined to make Penny say ‘yes’ because if she said ‘no’… Channah had no idea what she would do.  Stop herself?  Really?  Oh Penny you have to say yes…. But out loud, she managed:  “It isn’t a right for jawari slave-girls, is it?”

“No Domina,” Penny had to agree, shaking her head, almost looking as if it were beyond her ability to imagine but she knew she had to obey.

“No, sweetie, it’s a privilege.  A—gift.  A—a—fucking blessing, bitch!”

“Yes, Domina!  I know, Domina,” Penny whined and wept.

“So, yes, IF you—you want it, baby, and it’s totally up to you, but I’m—I’m going to need you to—show me you mean it when you promise you want to make me happy.  Show me, once and for all, tonight, before you leave this platform.”

Penny looked genuinely surprised, although it was a little difficult to be sure under the submissive, helpless, completely placative and adoring posture she displayed to show respect for her Domina.  Eyes rolling and voice rising plaintively, she wailed in shock:  “You mean there’s more?  What else—what else IS there, Domina?”

“Taking this from another boy, bitch, instead of from a girl with bonus features.  You’ve known it was coming, don’t pretend you didn’t!”

“I—I know, I didn’t understand—I know I agreed Domina!  I won’t go back on my pledge, Domina, I promise!  I’ll give you everything.  I want to give you everything!  I know that now!  I just—I didn’t know what you wanted!”  She sobbed.  “I promise, Master, I’ll do as you command!  I know what you expect from me, Domina!  I’ll be good!  I’ll be good!  I swear I’ll be good, Domina, anything you want, whoever you want, I love you!”

“Oh, dumpling,” she purred, “I know you want to be my good girl.  And I want you to be passionate, so sexy baby.  That’s why I’ve arranged an extra-special treat your first time, so maybe even you’ll learn -um, well,  it’s not exactly your first time, I guess, is it?  I mean, the first time you put out for me, darling.”  Keeping her eyes feasting on Penny’s desperate, pathetic, needy form dangling out in space, absolutely nothing but a bit of air between her and the crazed armies of devils below, Channah called over her shoulder:  “Kadidia, is our other little girl ready to come back to us?”

“At your command, Majesty,” the woman answered, smoothly and calmly, her sweet bakhūr presence close by her side. 

“Then try to bring her back, Kadidia.  Penny, you can do your part to help by trying your best to lure her back to this world.  Show as much need and love as you can muster for your sister-wife!  Callher back to us!”

Penny’s eyes shifted just to Channah’s right, where Kadidia had casually propped up Chastity, nude except her cage, her twister, her ring, her collar, and the tight leather harness she had been strapped into, sexy elaborate straps crisscrossing over her body like threads of a spider’s web from her collar to her thighs.  Like a puppeteer storing a puppet, Kadidia had effortlessly set Chastity on her knees, holding her upright by one hand on one of her shoulders.  Chastity’s hands seemed to be tied behind her back, not that she was aware.  At the moment, her body was an empty meat suit, muscles slack, head dropping, an inanimate dead weight of flesh utterly disconnected from her friend, whose soul had been taken and secured somewhere far, far away from her body by the magic of the succubae.

Still reeling from her own experience there, the moment she caught sight of Chas, she screamed in horror and recognition, at the appalling absence of life writ large across her friend, something she knew she had done (had been?) only a few minutes before.  Her shock at the sight was compounded because she had had no perception of anything in this world when she was in the same state; and therefore, her conscious mind had not been presented before with the icewater spectacle of her friend’s body looking way more dead than alive. 

The mind and the body knew when they were looking at a dead thing.  They knew, and were shocked to the core.

Literature Section “06-109[X] The Last Seduction”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 109 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1246 words::Explicit 1353 words—Accompanying Images:  1881-1883—Published 2025-06-07—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.


1870 06-107 Watcha wanna do, fairy stepmother?
1871 06-107 Do you trust me?  Completely, fairy stepmother!
1872 06-107 I’m going to rock you AND your whole world
1873 06-107 Is your little lap buddy going to rock me, too?

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, watersports, corporalpunishment, urination, and prostatestimulation themes at 06-107[X] A Succubaean Sex Stunt at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny are locked in an intense shared experience higher than treble singers in a helium balloon on Channah’s sex magick, Channah desperate for an intimacy she never imagined existed and Penny shattered body and soul by her brilliant ruthless exploitation of her unparalleled knowledge of the human male.  NOW:

Laughing cruelly, Channah watched with savage glee as the last of Penny’s water dribbled out of her flaccid little underperformer. 

“Keep begging, bitch!” Channah giggled, just to be a bitch, and Penny’s incoherent noises became peppered with recognizable words like “please” and “beg” and “Domina” and “no!” and “ugh!” and “I need—I need—oh ggggaaaaaawwwwwwdddddd….  What you do to me, Master!  Oh!  Oh!  Aiee!”  Like that.

Penny’s pleasing cries and their hot, sick scene went on until, using one of Miryam’s discarded stockings to mop up, Channah snapped:  “Open up!  Mouth wide open, come on, hold it!”  and then crammed the soggy mass of silk into Penny’s mouth, stuffing it down as deeply as she could until Penny gagged, reducing her noises to much more satisfactory muffled grunts and cries; and then pulling the other stocking around Penny’s head, tying it off as tightly as she could, holding Penny’s lips wide apart and the first stocking in place deep in her mouth.

As she was enjoying this, a massive presence Channah recognized even before she saw two midnight-black hands thread a rope under her arms, in front of her breasts, or smelled the spicy, distinctive aroma of the bakhūr Kadidia alone used in her perfume.  A second later, Channah felt the rope drawn tightly under her arms and knew at once that she would be perfectly safe no matter what occurred as she and Penny continued their slide towards the lip of the platform.

Channah kept rocking her girl, harder and harder, as Fang and Judah wrapped the two chains holding her wrists and ankles together on each side of her, twice around the railing just above the shackle anchor points as a safety, sliding them with a metallic chunking sound to keep them taut as Penny approached the edge at a point where there was nothing between the railing and the platform itself to stop anything going over.  Channah kept smearing her hands all over Penny’s shoulders and arms and legs and neck and sides while her belly did the same to Penny’s, covering every inch of the girl with oil until she was shiny from head to toe and slipperier than a stick of butter.

Penny screamed as her head, and then her shoulders, and then her back, slid over the lip of the hetaraslakos with increasing speed as the amount of surface area to provide friction slowing her, shrank.  A second later, Fang and Judah pulled the chains as tight as they could.  The bar was positioned with people of average height in mind.  Because Penny was quite a petite girl, the final yank on her chains actually lifted her shoulders, and then her hips, several inches above the surface, even as Fang and Judah slammed the pins closed on the two shackle mounts locking Penny firmly into place, hanging like a trussed pig from a roasting pole, her arm and leg on each side suspended from a sturdy hook under the railing. 

The poor girl was still screaming and wailing, trying to put together what had happened and whether she was about to die, or perhaps dead already, while the coven members roared with laughter and clapped one another on the back at a perfectly-executed suspension of a virgin—in this context, meaning a jariya who had never been suspended before, or even seen a suspension before.  Channah did note, with distinct relief, that as much as Channah’s manipulations had overridden what the girl’s mind and body intended, causing her to be incontinent in front, she had kept control of herself otherwise, which spoke well to Penny’s courage and presence of mind.  It was one of the risk factors that made suspension such a casino-like rush:  sometimes, weak-minded jawari ended the game before it had fully begun in that way, and were left to dangle in humiliation and increasing pain from overtaxed muscles, ignored until the succubae and the band had left and the cleaning crew arrived to restore the platform to pristine condition for next time.  Needless to say, jawari who insulted a succubus and ruined her day in such a way, drew the least-desirable and most-dangerous assignments, as far away from the succubae as possible, after that. 

So Penny had passed yet another offhand and arbitrary test to satisfy the whims of her masters without ever knowing it was occurring.

Like an oak tree, without breaking a sweat, Kadidia stopped and held Channah so her knees remained on the platform an inch or two from the edge.  Miryam and Rivqah slipped kneepads under Channah’s knees for her comfort.  If the jariya were left alone, hanging in place, gravity would bring their hips to rest just where Channah’s spine was; which meant the succubus had plenty of leverage to thrust against her victim’s haunches, especially since petite, pretty Penny was suspended between six and twelve inches above the platform by her short legs.  Laughing at Penny’s lost, confused, anxious, uncomfortable expression, Channah resumed her attentions.

It was a skill.  An art.  One Channah and the other succubae had had centuries to practice, to perfect, and to elaborate upon.  Channah quickly and expertly fell into a perfect rhythm, timing her movements so her jariya’s momentum increased, propelled out away from Channah’s body until they were almost (but not quite) separated, then swinging back down, before repeating the cycle again.

Below them, the heady mixture of arousal, pain, fear, need, and power imbalance acted on the crowd like PCP, simultaneously stimulating them, polluting them, and ripping whatever was left of their minds and bodies to shreds.  Their noise began rising again, their movements to speed up, their center mass to press forward to a point directly under Penny’s swinging body.  From her position, even in her aroused and fully-occupied condition, Channah could tell something was terribly wrong below; but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.  It didn’t seem to be interfering with the energy of the tortuous dance she was leading them all in, so she pushed it to the back of her mind for now; but her impression of wrongness was clear and strong enough she wasn’t likely to forget about it.

Penny flew and swung back and forth like a pendulum, faster and faster as Channah felt a power storm start building and gathering within her.

Literature Section “06-107[X] A Succubaean Sex Stunt”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 107 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1055 words::Explicit 1139 words—Accompanying Images:  1870-1873—Published 2025-06-05—©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.


1866 06-106 WTF is THAT, stepmother, and what does it want?!
1867 06-106 What do you keep a wiggly thing like that around for, stepmother dear?

1868 06-106 Why is Mr. Wiggles looking at me that way?
1869 06-106 What on EARTH do those wiggly things want from ME?!

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, watersports, corporalpunishment, urination, and prostatestimulation themes at 06-106[X] Squeezing Penny ‘til She Pops at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny are locked in an intense shared experience higher than treble singers in a helium balloon on Channah’s sex magick, Channah desperate for an intimacy she never imagined existed and Penny shattered body and soul by her brilliant ruthless exploitation of her unparalleled knowledge of the human male.  NOW:

“You should be ashamed of your infantile loss of control!”  Channah scolded her fiercely, looking down and laughing.  “You’re leaking everywhere, sweetie.  If you were a man, you’d be too interested in me to worry about your bladder.  But because you’re really a girl, you’re still soft as pudding…” then, with a laugh, she blurted:  “I love that!  That’s what you are, isn’t it, Pleaser?  You’re my very own little Puddin’, aren’t you darling?”

“No!  You’re doing things to me—things I can’t—I don’t even understand!” she blubbered pitifully, shaking her head, trying to make sense of it.  Less rationally, wanting to deny it.  “No, that can’t be…”

“But it is,” Channah insisted, “and we’ve got the evidence to prove it, don’t we, girlie?  Shall I make you admit it?  You pee when there’s pressure on your bladder just like any other girl.”  

Because it was clear by now Penny would—Penny only could, helplessly—submit unconditionally to anything her erastes did to her, she didn’t need to bother with holding Penny’s ankles or wrists any more.  But she wanted Penny to know how deeply submissive she was, so she gathered her eromenos’s wrists back into her right hand and yanked them down and behind Penny’s head, allowing Channah to rest her weight on her own hand and use it for leverage while pinning Penny’s below it.  With her left hand, she started smearing her hand over Penny’s tummy and breasts, then brought her hand to Penny’s mouth. 

“Please no!”  Penny tried to murmur with her lips together.

Channah just laughed harder, watching Penny’s eyes dart to their audience before she looked back at Channah with horror, shaking her head violently. 

“Open right now, Puddin’, or it will go badly for you,” Channah ordered her roughly.  And with a particularly loud wail, Penny surrendered again, another long swath of whatever dignity she still had roughly torn away like a layer of clothing, helplessly accepting another indignity, opening her mouth as she cried and accepted Channah’s fingers.  Channah used her right hand behind Penny’s neck, holding her wrists, to lift her up partially and maneuver her onto the slippery oil-covered stone beside them; using her left hand to pull Penny’s hair, and then again to slide over her skin.  Looking up at her coven members, she instructed them:  “This little girl’s already made a mess of herself—and me.  Just pour oil on her.  I want her slipperier than a greased pig with her cuffs paired for the swing.”

Penny opened her mouth and started to complain, or plead, or something.  With a sneer, Channah immediately shoved her freshly lacquered fingers into Penny’s mouth again.  And that was that for Penny’s little protest, or whatever it would have been.  Channah talked instead, as she cruelly moved her hips again and again, as hard as she could, the girl looking pitifully uncomfortable beneath her.  “You look rough, honey,” she pretended to pout.  “Is baby sore?”  She nodded, laughing when Penny nodded agreement around her hand.  She removed it and slapped Penny’s cheek.  “Too bad.  Little babies who ruin their masters’ clothing are going to be uncomfortable.  Because they deserve it.  See?  Your disgraceful display is only more evidence you’ve been a girl all along.”

“NOO, Master!”  Penny bawled uselessly.  Looking back down at Penny, Channah smiled wolfishly at the scared, uncertain, lost expression struggling for real estate on Penny’s panting, overstimulated, passion-tortured face and kept moving over the smaller girl, giggling as Penny’s oily shoulders and back started slipping over the stone surface.  She laughed aloud watching as Rivqah cooed and verbally humiliated Penny while she sputtered and spat, trying to keep the stream of oil Rivqah was dribbling all over her face, out of her mouth.

Channah had known her knees would suffer on the stones without kneepads, but she felt herself becoming irritated and cranky anyway, taking it out on Penny by working harder than before, holding her wrists in a vicelike grip so as the rest of her body slid, her wrists slipped beneath her neck to an uncomfortable position, and by being careless with Penny’s sensitive new curves, alternating—one hand in her mouth, the next percussed on her curves, with a bit of hard pinching for added effect.  “You’ve got nice, classic lines Penny.  With those curves, you’re going to make a lot of men very happy.  And I do mean a lot,” she cackled as Penny practically flinched.  “So you’d better get used to that funny, intense feeling inside you.  Learn to enjoy it, if you can.  And figure out some way to get that girl-bladder under control, or you’re going to find yourself over the knees of a lot of frustrated clients being disciplined for disrespecting them!”  She shook her head, marveling as Penny continued to struggle to control herself. 

Suddenly she frowned.  “Whatever happened to your panties?  And Esmeray’s panties?  We could use those—to—unh!  Absorb all this!”  She looked up and chuckled when she saw Miryam wryly kicking off her boots and removing her silk stockings, even as Rivqah kept pouring oil on Penny—as directly toward her mouth and nostrils as possible—and then flicking the oily stream above Penny’s head to lubricate the stones ahead of her.

At the same time, Judah and Fang took Penny’s wrists from Channah and attached each one to a delicate ankle, using two carabiners that already dangled chains.  This freed both of Channah’s hands to explore Penny’s new girl body, even as she continued to tease and torment the girl by turns with pinches, slaps, tickles, light trailing brushes, and deep tissue massage.  And, of course, force-feeding her until Miryam casually dropped her stockings on Penny’s tummy and tucked them down between her legs. 

Channah used her control over Penny’s insides to squeeze her hard, even as Channah’s fingers seized and squeezed her victim on the outside, giggling as Miryam’s stockings prevented a fountain from spraying in every direction around Channah’s tightly-clasped fingers.  She used every bit of force she could to wring Penny’s insides, exulting while Penny’s orchestra of sounds and noises took on a choked, gurgling quality expressing the potent cocktail of feelings and experiences she was being compelled to imbibe by turns.  Her pitch soared and fell as the pressure intensified and peaked, and their audience laughed and applauded.

Literature Section “06-106[X] Squeezing Penny ‘til She Pops”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 106 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1059 words::Explicit 1186 words—Accompanying Images:  1866-1869—Published 2025-06-04—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

1860 06-105 It’s Kool-Aid for your brain…
1861 06-105 That’s a perfectly natural reaction.  So keep inhaling!

1862 06-105 You’re a silly little girl.  Keep puffing!
1863 06-105 I think she’s ready for us, Mistress
1864 06-105 NOW she’s ready… Bwa ha ha ha ha ha!
1865 06-105 Since it can’t be real, there are no consequences!^

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, watersports, urination, and prostatestimulation themes at 06-105[X] Channah Thoroughly Ravishes Penance at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny have just had the magical experience of a lifetime, turning Penny into a futa as their privacy shield fell.  Uncharacteristically experiencing a devastating top drop after falling from the dizzying heights to which they had risen, Channah has jump-started them both again with her magic and is ruthlessly overcoming shy Penny’s reservations and thoughts of resistance at the prospect of being royally and humiliatingly romanced in front of an audience.  NOW:

Whether from trust in and a desire to please her Master, the intensity of the connection surging between them, the magical fountain pouring into her, or simply the raw force of Channah’s shoulders on her ankles and hands gripping her wrists, after a final little flutter of resistance manifested in an aimless, anxious wiggling of her extremities, Penny calmed down and stopped struggling, making her legs relax as much as she could so Channah didn’t have to strain quite as much.  Penny meekly accepted being virtually folded in half, whining and panting and moaning into Channah’s lips as she was able to relax her muscles to accommodate Channah’s insistent demands on her and comply with Channah’s pleasure. 

Helplessly, with Channah romantically ravaging her, with Channah’s demon tongue snaking deeply into Penny’s delicate mouth, with Channah’s energy surging through Penny’s chakras, and with Channah’s shoulders pinning Penny’s legs back at such an extreme angle she could almost suck her own toes, Penny started to cry out, her cheeks fiercely red with the shame of her willing, indeed cooperative and increasingly ardent, degradation before so many people.

“Beg more,” Channah slurred around their lips.  “Show them all what a shameless little hussy you are.”  And when Penny turned even redder instead of speaking:  “Confess your desires NOW!”

Sobbing, Penny begged, as wantonly and desperately as she could, absolutely in earnest because her silence had been the modesty of not wanting to reveal her truth, rather than a reflection of any inner calmness or perspective.  Because she had none:  By now, Channah was her whole world again, and pleasing Channah her whole and sincere purpose.

“Take me Master!” she pleaded, nearly crazed with the abandon, as much as arousal, of throwing all her own sensibilities and modesty to the winds in order to submit to her Domina and fulfill her Domina’s desires under such conditions.  Responding to Channah the way she commanded and demanded required her total surrender to her Domina, to her fate, to her shame, to her extremely public degradation because it allowed no half-measures.  There was nothing, not one shred of personal dignity or self-respect, that she could maintain and obey her Domina as she had to do and as she longed to do.  Her personality and feelings were being shredded into confetti by her Domina’s desires and the resulting conflicts tearing her apart.  “I don’t know what you’re doing to me Master!” She wailed hysterically, her voice muffled and interrupted as Channah kept kissing her and she kept kissing back.  “Ah!  Ah!  You’re—omigod, what you’re doing to me!  It hurts!  Why am I so eager, Master?”

“Because you’re a girl.  And I found the sweet girl spot inside you.  I—knew it was there!  I knew it!  I could tell!” she bellowed triumphantly.  “Some girls, a very few, are born that way,” Channah lied easily, enjoying scrambling her head as hard as she was her insides, “and now that I’ve finally found it, it’s brought your true self to the surface!”  She growled roughly, resting her forearms on her futa’s ankles to hold them down so she could use her fingernails to tickle her futa’s extremely sensitive and ticklish soles, watching Penny’s breathing turning into a desperate gasping sound, her head moving from side to side whenever Channah’s lips permitted as if she were searching for more oxygen.  Seeing Penny’s state, Channah allowed herself to use her tongue to gag her until she almost passed out from lack of air, just because she felt like seeing if she could. 

Channah reveled in her total power and command over her wiggling, wriggling, wailing, mindless futa love doll to which she had reduced a previously normal and clever boy.  But she knew there was more to it than that, the way she was feeling higher and higher and almost crazy with lust.  She was dimly aware she needed to stop feeding her own lust before she tore the girl limb from limb but she was loving the effect her magic was having on the girl, too much to stop feeding their connection just yet.  “It hurts a girl the first time, silly ninny,” Channah laughed, “surely even you know that much?  And a girl born like you, inside-out, I’m sorry, sweetie,” Channah laughed, “It’s gonna hurt a little bit every time.”  And Channah shivered with pleasure at the thought.

“I can’t stand it omigod ogod ogod I feel like I’m going to explode but I’m not even enjoying this!  Ohh… oh, no… It hur-ur-ur-ur-ur-ur-urts!  What’s happening to me?!?!”  she wailed and cried and shook her head and rolled her eyes and practically melted down into a puddle right in front of Channah’s devouring eyes, her warm, soft, passive, obedient body and over-the-top passion of agony and ecstasy all rolled up and intertwined together, bringing Channah to another emotional and physical peak.

The succubus threw her head back and howled like a wolf with glee, briefly meeting Miryam’s and Rivqah’s amazed, aroused, envious eyes.  Inspired, she barked:  “Oil.  Gallons!” tipping her head towards the smooth black stone past the edge of the mattress above Penny’s head, before she turned her attention back to her victim, nipping her bottom lip and tugging on it before smothering her in more kisses and stuffing her mouth again with demon tongue.  The Demon Queen relished the exquisite, delightful way her prey thrashed and bawled with painful confusion and panted and whined with passion all at once. Penny was utterly overwhelmed, unable to process all the conflicting, confusing, clanging sensations that were wracking her body.  “My body!  I hate it but I want it whatever you’re—I maybe—!  What’s happening to me, Domina?!  The things you do to me Master!  And now I’m….” she wept.  “I think I’m losing control!  I’m so ashamed!”

“You should be!”  Channah scolded her fiercely, looking down and laughing. 

Literature Section “06-105[X] Channah Thoroughly Ravishes Penance”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 105 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 979 words::Explicit 1078 words—Accompanying Images:  1860-1865—Published 2025-06-03—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

1852 06-103 I love you! f you love me, you’ll be a good little white rabbit
1853 06-103 Good white rabbits stay in their cages
1854 06-103 You DO want to be my good little white rabbit, don’t you?  Un-huh, yes, ma’am
1855 06-103 You want me in THERE? Alice giggled.  I’ll barely fit!

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity themes at 06-103X Consent Violations at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Penny have just had the experience of a lifetime, more than either of them could ever have imagined, touched with magical forces neither of them fully comprehends.  Penny is still lost in a daze.  Channah is consumed with a desire for more and cannot bring herself to let it end.  NOW:

Always grateful for her existence—once as an angel, now as a succubus—Channah loved herself, and her life, without suffering from either humility or disappointment.  And the combined flavors in her mouth—first, of the top drop, almost hangover-like in its intensity following the burning out of every single one of her nerves; and second, the crestfallen woe of being separated from Penny, were as unacceptable as they were unfamiliar.  Refusing to accept the intolerable situation, she did something she could not recall ever having done before, simply because she had never felt the need to:  She capitalized on her nature by using her powers to feed her own heat, feeling the low, struggling flame within her ripple dangerously before bursting into a full raging inferno.  Penny groggily began moving her head back and forth, her human body so much more shredded than Channah’s by the forces that had ripped through them, she needed more time and heat to come back.

Frantic for Penny’s consciousness to come back to her, and irrationally irritated with Penny for not responding faster than her species was capable of, Channah saw the girl’s soft, sticky little pastry curled between her legs, as delicious and unthreatening as a snail cooked in butter, and decided on a wicked plan to interest her and punish Penny for—whatever it was she wanted to punish for.  Promptly, considering it only from the lens of her own desire without even considering any negatives or what Penny would feel beyond what Channah wanted her to feel, Channah converted her intentions into action, snatching up Penny’s cage from where she had tossed it aside and locking it again.

Then Channah resumed her undulating motion, rolling her hips against Penny’s.  Her supernatural energy pulsed through both of them like an electrical current, even as Penny’s twister pulsed and squeezed, animated by Channah’s will to resume what it had been doing before, enveloping them in a pulsing rhythm more intense than nature could have achieved unaided.

Channah groaned before Penny was even back present with her, aroused to a fury by Penny’s tight little booty, and her peaceful feminine features. 

Penny’s peaceful feminine features…

Something about the phrase tugged at Channah’s mind until she gasped in amazement, incredulous at how long it had taken her to get past her own shell shock to register the obvious.

And just as Penny shook her head, blinking rapidly and focusing on Channah with a dreamy, loving, seductive smile that made Channah’s heart jump in her chest, Channah proclaimed, as genuinely as any pathetic human punter: 

“Penny!  I knew it!  I’m so happy!  You’re beautiful!!!  I’m so happy!  You did it!  And you’re MINE!!!”  She picked up Penny’s hands and laid them gently on her girl’s firm round breasts, urging her to feel them and marvel, praising Penny’s beauty and femineity, doing everything she could to help Penny assent to what had just happened to her.  Penny had to accept it, her new body and appearance, at a minimum—she must!  And ideally she would see the beauty and opportunity in it, which would turn Channah on even more, and would certainly improve Penny’s life and disposition from this point forward.

Penny gasped, looked shocked, and then turned fiercely, brightly, practically a luminescent red, her hands moving gently and automatically over her own breasts and nipples, hyperventilating again and squeaking:  “I turned into a girl!”

Channah wolf-whistled, aroused by her own magic but even more, she knew, by Penny’s distinctive, innocent speech and way of speaking, even as she embarrassed Penny and the Coven members laughed and applauded, understanding the importance of Penny’s acceptance and doing all they could to encourage it.  At the same time, they distracted Penny and drew her attention to them and caused her to squeak again, covering her new breasts with her hands.  At the same moment, both to control and distract Penny, and to satisfy her own soul if she had one, Channah rose up onto her feet, using her weight as leverage to kiss her girl forcefully again.

For a moment, Channah could see, Penny’s mind wanted to resist the swirling storm of natural and supernatural (and perhaps even unnatural) emotion around her and within her.  The Penny she had always been, wanted to cover herself, no matter the feelings roaring and raging through her, her eyes rolling around wildly in their sockets like those of a panicked horse, taking in the sights around her.  Miryam, Rivqah, Judah, Fang, and the other eight members of the Coven watched them with hungry, desiring, rapacious eyes and the tense posture of predators aroused by the sight of their alpha feeding on desirable prey, hopeful despite themselves and imagining taking their own turns.  Esmeray and Hong watched too, with their five blindfolded, bound jawari kneeling before them, Hong coolly appraising and evaluating with, Penny might imagine, just a hint of contempt in her eyes; and  Esmeray fierce and attentive, eyes darting everywhere, with the attitude of a parrot whose feathers have been ruffled reclaiming her dignity, half as unsighted to Channah and Penny in this moment as the blinded jawari before her.

With an incoherent noise of anxiety and alarm, Penny started to flail; but determined to make this moment last, and recover her equilibrium by fucking Penny again, Channah shook her head commandingly and murmured “hunh-unh!”, all with her mouth pressed against Penny’s.  Grabbing her girl’s hands, Channah pulled them up and set them to hold the back of Penny’s ankles, helping Channah pull on her own legs.  Channah shivered with delight at the way the sensations she was delivering overwhelmed her little girl, her eyes bulging.  Channah felt happy in her current, odd mood, even knowing her own magic was affecting her and, she realized (a much more serious risk, in her mind) trusting Penny—or herself with Penny—to let her guard down enough to allow herself to be affected by magic.

Literature Section “06-103[X] Consent Violations”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 103 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 993 words::Explicit 1247 words—Accompanying Images:  1852-1855—Published 2025-05-30—©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.