penetrationthemes – The Remainderman (Frank Speech)

06-107 A Succubaean Sex Stunt (abridged version)

2025-06-052025-06-04 admin

*1870 06-107 Watcha wanna do, fairy stepmother?*

*1872 06-107 I’m going to rock you AND your whole world*

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.

Stories

06-106 Squeezing Penny ‘til She Pops (abridged version)

2025-06-042025-06-04 admin

*1866 06-106 WTF is THAT, stepmother, and what does it want?!*

*1868 06-106 Why is Mr. Wiggles looking at me that way?*

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

“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.

Stories

06-105 Channah Thoroughly Ravishes Penance (abridged version)

2025-06-032025-06-03 admin

*1860 06-105 It’s Kool-Aid for your brain…*

*1863 06-105 I think she’s ready for us, Mistress*

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.

Stories

06-104 Triggering Chastity (abridged version)

2025-06-022025-06-02 admin

*1856 06-104 Coven observing Channah and Penny through shield*

Explicit version containing phallic, oralsex, analingus, and penetration themes at 06-104 Triggering Chastity at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: Chas is shackled by her ankles with her wrists shackled behind her, blindfolded, and gagged, with her ears plugged. Esmeray is shackled by the ankles overlooking the sea of devils and demons, restrained from falling down into the chasm they inhabit, only by a waist-high guard rail; while Hong holds her gently from behind, holding hands with her arms around Esmeray. They are surprised by a new arrival. NOW:

“Your Grace!” Hong gushed, releasing Esmeray, turning, and curtsying in a single fluid motion, matching the position already assumed by her four jawari.

Esmeray, distracted by the physically stunning succubus in front of her and with no real good alternatives, settled for squatting where she stood, holding the top rail to keep her balance and help her pull back up to a standing position. Having grown up in Ottoman Constantinople, unlike many Europeans, Esmeray had met plenty of black women in her life. But none like this one. She was well over six feet tall, voluptuous, and musclebound from head to toe with beautiful midnight-black skin, long thick braided hair, an intelligent, resolute face, and a determined expression that would deter anyone but a fool from wasting her time with nonsense. She wore a light brown dress with white and dark brown geometric patterns Esmeray had never seen before, heavy brown almost masculine boots—perhaps because no boots made for normal women would have fit on her feet—and carried a large, heavy-looking canvas bag as if it were filled with air.

When she spoke, it was with a charming, musical accent almost at odds with her deep alto voice: “Hong, always a pleasure.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Hong blushed, pleased.

“These are yours?” she asked, gesturing to her jawari.

“Yes, Your Grace. Th—”

“And who is this?” she gestured towards the shackled woman.

“Hanim Esmeray Azlynn,” Hong answered immediately, startling Esmeray with her knowledge of Esmeray’s second name. “Her Majesty’s Qahramanah.”

“Ah,” the woman nodded significantly, with the faintest hint of a smile. “That makes more sense, then.” Turning to Esmeray, she continued: “The Queen told us you were wild. Well,” she shrugged, with just enough of a hint of embarrassment to soften the statement, “I think ‘crazy’ may have been the actual language. But I admit I didn’t expect to find a Qahramanah chained up. That’s fairly atypical.”

“It’s her first day, Your Grace,” Hong explained smoothly, a fact for which the embarrassed Esmeray was glad on this one occasion. “And she was faced with a… challenging situation. It did not seem to be punishment, only correction,” Hong clarified.

“You look calm enough,” the woman opined, looking her up and down. “Are you going to give me any trouble, or are you ready to be unchained? We have a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it.”

Esmeray expected the last thing she would be inclined to do with a woman of this one’s stature, is make trouble. And in the unlikely event she did, it would be carefully-planned, from behind, and heavily-armed. Not shackled to a ledge. “I’m recovered Your Grace,” she followed Hong’s lead. “Thank you.”

“You can release her,” she addressed Hong again. “Is this one—” she gestured at the naked young jariya shackled, bound, blindfolded, earplugged, and bent over the rail beside Esmeray “The English jariya called Chastity?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Good. You—” she tossed a jar of olive oil to one of Hong’s girls. “Prepare her.”

“Immediately, Your Grace,” she answered, quickly and unceremoniously moving to the helplessly-bound girl as they all watched—who wouldn’t have?—Hongan raise the bottle and artfully hold it a foot or so over Chastity’s back, so that when she began to pour, it came down directly on her coccyx with a force they all could immediately imagine, would feel like a stream of water to Chas, who jerked in surprise, and then tugged, reflexively and quite uselessly, from side to side as if trying to escape both the stream and her bonds. The oil then followed gravity downhill, causing Chas to shiver, before dripping from the lowest point of her to the floor.

The woman laughed harshly. “Good. Hong, you have trained your bitches well.”

“Thank you, Duchess Kadidia,” she answered, using the opportunity to communicate the woman’s name and rank to Esmeray.

“Commendable artistry. Thank you for reminding me of its benefits. I was very—in an overly goal-oriented mood. There’s not much time, but there’s enough for pleasure.” Hongan blushed and curtsied cutely before Kadidia. “Girls, while your Qahramanah releases Esmeray, I want the four of you to overstimulate our bad girl so she doesn’t feel neglected. Use your four tongues and all forty of your fingers to lead her into distraction.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” they answered as one. Hongjiao and Honghua dropped to their knees on either side of Hongan while Hongzhi, her greater original distance from Chas making her like the runt of a litter, spread her legs to stand on either side of the other girls and leaned forward over them.

Kadidia frowned as if making an artistic evaluation, trying not to laugh. “Hmm… there’s not a lot of room there, is there? You two on the sides can each keep one arm behind your sister.”

“Yws msh Kdd,” they murmured. Hongan had ducked down, running her hands lightly along Chas’s calves and feet. Hongjiao and Hongua dipped their hands in the oil before snaking them around her hips to play with her. And Hongzhi used her hands to smear oil all over Chas’s back and shoulders.

Hong hissed with interest while Esmeray swallowed, looking down with all the judgment of a nun. “It is pretty,” Kadidia concurred, setting her bag down, squatting beside it, and removing two brown leather harnesses from it. Rooting deeper in her bag, she produced a small but elaborately-decorated wooden box, which Hong recognized as the last of her Domina’s wedding gifts to Channah. Standing up, Kadidia opened the box, which contained two objects: One a pair of golden tongs, the other both ordinary and extraordinary at once. Ordinary, if suggestive, enough in unmistakable shape. Extraordinary in its composition, which neither of the curious women really recognized or understood: a deep, perfect black that absorbed light around it so perfectly no surface was even discernable. Yet surely it must have one?

Using the tongs carefully but confidently to grip the base of the rounded tube, she set the box aside and asked Hong: “Who’s the one standing?”

“Hongzhi, Your Grace.”

“Hongzhi, please get the bottle of olive oil.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“You other girls—as much as I’d enjoy seeing olive oil splashed over you—” they laughed coyly up at her, awaiting her command. “I need two of you to lean forward, using the railing as leverage, and take hold of Chastity’s shoulders. In just a moment her legs are going to give out, and I don’t want the weight of her body to wrench her shoulders.” The girls nervously nodded, doing as they were bidden. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“As soon as she falls, the four of you are to release her and lay her on her back with her hands above her head… there,” Duchess Kadidia pointed to a spot on the platform near where they had left Channah and Penance, but was now hidden by a thick, unnatural blackish-gray cloud of swirling smoke surrounded by ten succubae and one incubus.

Hong gasped, amazed she hadn’t felt anything as the coven members arrived, and realizing just how charged with passion, agony, and energy the air around them had become to mask the disruptions their arrivals must have caused.

Kadidia was cautioning them: “Once this begins, do not talk to me except in extreme emergency. Stay close to us, but do not cause any distractions. I will need to concentrate on Chastity.” Stepping forward and holding the object close to Chastity, she nodded at Hongzhi: “Pour more oil. Don’t be stingy, that’s right. And now the tripper,” she indicated the daggerlike blade with her free hand. When it was coated, the thick oil giving it a surface to shine and reflect the light of the torches as long as it clung to it, she lined it up and pushed it forward, its touch causing Chastity, to stiffen in surprise before slumping, dead weight, as Kadidia had warned she would.

Literature Section “06-104[X] Triggering Chastity”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 104 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1330 words::Explicit 1415 words—Accompanying Images: 1856-1859—Published 2025-06-01—©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.

Stories

06-103 Consent Violations (abridged version)

2025-05-302025-05-30 admin

*1852 06-103 I love you! f you love me, you’ll be a good little white rabbit*

*1854 06-103 You DO want to be my good little white rabbit, don’t you? Un-huh, yes, ma’am*

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.

Stories

06-99 Channah Knows How to Stretch a Penny (abridged version)

2025-05-25 admin

*1836 06-99 Penny cannot believe the words coming out of her own mouth*

*1838 06-99 Penny waits desperately for Domina’s decision*

Explicit version containing penis, size, analpenetration, orgasm, piledriver, and masturbation themes at 06-99X Channah Knows How to Stretch a Penny at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: Penny, lying open below her Domina, begs Channah to take her. NOW:

“Wow, girl,” Channah snickered, impressed with her girl’s begging, pulling a jar from her pocket, removing the stopper, and dripping olive oil all over herself. With every single drop that landed on her, Penny jerked and writhed and moaned with the need to release bottled-up energy. “I’m impressed with you! I sensed there was a raw, live-wire slut inside you, buried beneath all the layers of propriety and manners and civilization…. There were times when even I doubted my instincts about you, you buried yourself so deeply, but I shouldn’t have. I knew it! Didn’t I? And now you’re my whore. My slut. My wanton, wanton girl.” And then she snapped: “Aren’t you?!”

“Yes, yes, I’m—I’m your t- your, I mean, Jezebel!,” Penny started bawling, her cheeks on fire, shamed and humiliated beyond all measure and reason, abasing herself and professing her disgraceful deepest desires as she had never done before. And the worst part of all of it was being afraid, as the words came out of her mouth, that they might all be true. “I’m a—I’m such a hussy,” she sobbed. “Why why why I don’t know! I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m such a nymphomaniac. But I need you.” She looked and sounded shocked again: “But-but I think it actually may be—I’m feeling a funny kind of way—Oh, Domina! I—I think I really do! I need you, Master! I need to feel you warming me up inside, right to my heart! Please Domina, make me complete! Oh, please, please pleeeeeease…!”

Channah, meanwhile, was rubbing the olive oil into her skin, enjoying the feeling. “Where—where do you want me to touch you?” she demanded, panting almost as heavily as her slave.

“Where—where you did before,” Penny squeaked, hardly able to stand the sound of the words coming from her own mouth. “Anywhere, Domina, anywhere you want, you know best!” And she started moving her own hands lower.

“Hunh-unh!” Channah snapped, dropping an oily hand to slap Penny’s to one side. “You had your chance, Ms. Modesty. No more! No hands! You made your decision—keep your hands on your nipples, girlie!”

“I’m sorry, Domina, I was stupid! Please, please let me change my mind, Domina! Oh lord, please—I need—Please?! You’ve got to—”

“ ‘Got’ to? Are you trying to tell me what to do, bitch?” Channah asked dangerously, raising her open palm as if she were going to slap Penny hard. Penny moued, and her knees jerked as if she were fighting every instinct she had to keep them apart, but hold them apart she did, cringing while she did so.

“No—no of course not, I’m sorry, Domina,”

“No, ma’am, I thought not.” Channah shook her head, smirking commandingly, her voice at once much quieter than Penny’s, and much more authoritative. “Good girl. Try again. Do you command?”

“No, Domina, I—” and she realized she knew the answer already. Channah had already told her. “I beg, that’s all I can do, Domina! I beg of you, please take charge of me! I want it more than anything. More than anything I’ve ever wanted!” And in that moment, she was so deep in subspace, under Channah’s spell, that she believed it well enough to be true. Penny whimpered and cried brokenly. “Do what—what Roger did to you, Domina.” She realized, with shock, that it was absolutely true, mortified to consider what it looked like, what it sounded like, and that for some reason she still wanted to be treated the same way. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Mistress. I want to be your baby-doll.”

Backing the rest of the way back so Penny’s feet weren’t under her knees anymore, and shaking out the rest of the bottle carelessly all over Penny, Channah shook her head. “No. Not today… today I want it to be so personal.”

“Personal?” Penny gasped. Not understanding yet.

Channah laughed, a low, guttural sound. “I’ll show you.”

Channah took hold of Penny. “Please do! Please show me! Oh please do!” Penny hyperventilated, as Channah dropped to her knees.

Penny flipflopped instinctively, panic piling back into her eyes as the reality of what was about to happen hit home, and wailed in a combination of need and fear. “Oh please be gentle with me, Domina!”

Penny’s squeal rose to a full-fledged wail as she felt Channah touch her. “Oh my goodness—PLEASE!!!!!”

Channah wasn’t sure what Penny wanted at this point and she doubted Penny had any idea, either. But in any event, it was way past the time Penny might have had any say in the matter. She was Channah’s totally passive receptive girl now, her entire existence defined by, even given by, Channah; her whole identity shrunk to the obedient, desperate, aching flesh being touched by Channah, even as she flooded Penny with another blast of the magical-sexual lightning that was the unique gift of the succubae.

Literature Section “06-99[X] Channah Knows How to Stretch a Penny”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 99 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 827 words::Explicit 1183 words—Accompanying Images: 1835-1838—Published 2025-05-24—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

06-97 Penny Begs for It Like the Slut She Is (abridged version)

2025-05-222025-05-22 admin

*1828 06-97 C’mon, whinny! That’s a good little horsey!*

*1830 06-97 Channah has Penny wrapped around something…*

Explicit version containing intercourse, penetration, penis, and vagina themes at 06-##X Title at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: After using Penny, Channah has teased her mercilessly to a fever pitch. Now she’s ready to close the deal. NOW:

“Beg me for what I want, until you feel, no, until you know, with every fiber of your being, that it’s what you want, too. No matter how long it takes. And don’t you dare stop until I command you to!”

Penny groaned, turned to helpless jelly by her ruthless application of power and her unending hunger for Penny’s attention and obedience. Channah’s desire to rule Penny, absolutely and powerfully, persuaded and confirmed for Penny just how much Channah cared about her, and how much she mattered to Channah. Any lingering thoughts of looking for ways to resist or hold back, utterly collapsed into the ruins of Penny’s will, which now was only to do whatever it took to keep Channah happy.

From the moment she opened her mouth she was begging with utter sincerity and a raw, unadulterated need that touched Channah’s heart through all the layers of armor and insulation she used to protect it, amplified perhaps, but not allowed in the first place, by the four magical bonds they now shared: “Please, Domina. Please! I want to be your girl. Please take me, I beg of you! Please make me your girl.”

“How?” she demanded relentlessly, and Penny gave her another one of those enchanted, perfect moments unintentionally: She couldn’t seem to figure out what to do with her own hands, knowing she was supposed to remain passive for Channah and wanting to be a good girl, but restless with the unspent energy crackling and curling in the ether around them.

Penny, her hands fluttering uselessly, wailed: “Please, please—ohmigod,” Penny whimpered, a small, helpless, weak, ashamed sound before she forced herself to choke it out, trying so hard her voice came out in a scream: “Make me a woman, Domina! Please possess me, my Master, my Goddess, my Queen, my savior! Please take me, Domina! I beg of you! I was meant to be your base, I know it, and you to be my captain and commander, I know that now!”

She made a whining sound, and Channah seized the opportunity to interrupt her stream of self-abuse and command her further, rolling and grinding her boot into Penny’s stomach and solar plexus: “Play with yourself,” Channah commanded, nodding to her fluttering hands, watching Penny turn into a tomato again. “Your chest, ninny,” she laughed, knowing before Penny did what she would think because Penny was so desperately shy and so fundamentally uncomfortable with her own feelings, she had to be bullied every step of the way into showing them, or even allowing herself to admit and experience them.

Penny awkwardly placed her open hands on her chest, covering them like a modest woman caught without a bra on. “Plea—” she started again, before Channah interrupted her, throwing back her head and laughing harshly:

“No! Completely inadequate! Move your hands,” she barked down at her girl. And as Penny obeyed, she directed her every motion, coaching her until she became enthusiastic: “No—alternate, your full palm with a light tickling with your fingertips. Lighter… lighter!”

“I—I love you, Mistress!” Penny bleated. “Domina! Please! Use me however you want, I want it, I swear, Domina!”

And when she saw goosebumps popping up on Penny’s skin she nodded with satisfaction, waving Penny to keep her mouth shut to let her talk. “Take turns, using one hand to tickle yourself and the other to pinch your nipple…. Roll it between your forefinger and thumb. Go on! That’s good, baby. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Domina, I want to be, Master, I swear!” Penny promised. “I love you! Please make me yours, I beg you…” it came out as another scream: “NOW! Use me very badly, please, Domina I beg you,” Penny was fully sobbing now, drawing in her breath with surprise as she realized, while recovering her breath, that her hands on her chest might actually feel good. She met Channah’s eyes with a mortified, startled expression of having been caught out, blushing, but trying, not giving up. Tentatively at first, and then with slowly-growing authority, turning pink with embarrassment but managing just barely to keep going, she lightly ran her hands over her chest and nipples, forcing herself to sigh deeply as she tried to relax.

“And keep begging! More explicitly! I want details! Tell—me—exactly—what—you—want, bitch!” Channah commanded, calm but emphatic and authoritative, as she stepped off Penny’s chest and then slowly, tauntingly, both of them knowing what she was doing, shuffling backwards over Penny’s legs, raising her skirt so Penny, afraid and appalled, but helplessly aroused to be so submissive, locked her mesmerized, horrified, bulging, lovestruck eyes on the evolution occurring there without even erasing her womanhood. Channah paused, standing over Penny’s hips, trapping Penny’s feet under her knees. “Until I tell you to stop, footstool!” She dripped her contempt down on her girl, watching her slowly start to move her body, unconscious of what was happening, as she—the natural submissive inside her—started responding, more and more deeply, to Channah’s dominance. Her hips were moving. Her legs were still raised, helplessly and openly, like those of a chicken or turkey ready to be ripped apart and eaten by hungry diners around a dinner table. They slowly waved, obscenely, as her hips moved, her hands still working on her chest, her shoulders rolling and her head shaking as if she couldn’t even believe her own lack of dignity and morality. Her whole body was bobbing in time to her heart. She was panting and grunting as she worked herself into a frenzy for her increasingly cruel and mean-spirited master:

“Put your body inside mine!”

Literature Section “06-97[X] Penny Begs for It Like the Slut She Is”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 97 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 946 words::Explicit 1080 words—Accompanying Images: 1828-1832—Published 2025-05-21—©2025 The Remainderman. This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions. It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

Stories

06-96 Channah Makes Penny Beg for It (abridged version)

2025-05-202025-05-20 admin

*1826 06-96 Crawl into your cage like a good little rabbit*

Explicit version containing creampie, sodomy, and precum themes at 06-96X Channah Makes Penny Beg for It at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY: After using Penny, Channah has teased her mercilessly to a fever pitch. Now she’s ready to close the deal. NOW:

“Thank you, my darling dear,” Channah giggled, “But I already know you want me. D’uh! Unfortunately, you’ve not answered the question I asked. Try again. I’ll even break it down for you.”

“Thank you, Domina, that would help,” Penny heaved a grateful sigh of relief, clearly trying to keep herself from getting overexcited, amusing Channah again.

“What do you want to do to express our love, Penny? As badly as I want to feel you in me, it would ruin us because I couldn’t bear to be reminded of what we’d lost. Is that what you want, Penance?” Tears gathered in her eyes as she asked it, the unthinkable.

“No—n-no!” Penny cried, panicked at the idea.

She smiled, reassured. “Oh, good. I was worried there for a moment.”

“You never. Have to worry about. That, Domina,” Penny huffed, controlling her breath to control her body, as she had promised her. “I could never do anything to hurt you.”

“But what do you want to do with me, Penny? Or do you want anything at all to do with me?”

‘Of course I do! I want to make you happy, Domina, that’s all I want, I promise.”

“But you already know what would make me happy.”

“I do,” he admitted, nodding and looking dazed. “It—it’s just—” he fell silent for a moment, and finally looked back up into her eyes and whispered with total sincerity: “I do. I want to make you happy. I want to be yours, totally and completely yours. I know that now.”

Her small, relieved, still-uncertain smile broke Penny’s heart. “How do you want to make me happy, Penny? What do you want to do?”

“I want—I want to give myself to you,” Penny’s voice broke. “I do, I really do—I don’t know if I can help but feel guilty and afraid of the sin, too—“

“Oh, Penny, my love!” she squealed, bending down and kissing her. “You’ve made me so happy! It’s all right, baby. Guilt is fine,” she waved dismissively. “Of course I know you’re going to struggle with it. If it didn’t wrack you with so much guilt, it wouldn’t be half as sweet, because it wouldn’t be such a sacrifice, darling! But I swear, you were made to be bullied, it’s the best thing for you—you need it—which is why you feel even more attracted to me than most…” she shrugged “call them ‘boys’.” She set Penny on cloud nine with another set of kisses “It means so much to me that you’re knowingly sacrificing your… well, your dignity, your pride… I’d say your manhood, if you’d ever shown any, but certainly, you’re forfeiting your very deepest moral principles for me. The worse you feel, yet still want to do it—you have to want to—with all your sweet little heart—”

“I do!” she hollered helplessly, needing this to end, needing it so badly she thought she would die, longing so much now Channah wouldn’t, couldn’t, touch her at all.

Her face broke into a radiant, soft smile. “Good. I’m so happy to hear you say that, sugar.”

And with that, she released Penny’s wrists and stood up over her so they weren’t touching at all, seeing and enjoying how Penny’s body unconsciously tried to follow her up as Penny whimpered and thrust her hips up as far as she could to try and keep any part of her in contact with Channah as long as she could. Channah used her hands to hold her dress up, as she looked down to inspect Penny, making a disapproving noise and shaking her head. “I thought so. You’ve made a mess!”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, so, so sorry,” Penny blubbered sincerely, as Channah turned around. “I didn’t mean to, I promise, Domina!” And then Penny gasped, confronted with the sight of Channah’s magnificent, callipygian backside.

“I’m glad you like and respect it,” Channah sneered. “You should. But instead you’ve contaminated it. You know what comes next, what you need to do. Don’t you? But of course, it’s up to you, Penny. What do you think would please me? And once you know what that is, what do you want to do? Search your heart sincerely, Penny. I need your complete honesty, no matter what it does to us.”

It was only a second later, she felt Penny—at first, admittedly, a bit hesitantly; and then with more spirit, doing what she knew would make Channah happy.

“Thank you, Penny,” Channah said, rising back to her feet and turning around again, letting her skirts drop back into place, one boot on each side of Penny’s waist, facing Penny’s head. Considering her victim, and her special requirements, carefully, Channah firmly planted her boot right in the middle of Penny’s chest, before leaning down and resting her hand on her knee as she bent forward, her head a foot or two above Penny’s, looking and speaking seriously. “It’s time. If you’re ready, really ready to let yourself love me, get started, right now. Put up or shut up.”

“But—what should I do, Domina?” she wailed, desperately afraid of getting it wrong, but genuinely unsure.

Channah’s eyes twinkled at seeing Penny’s profound innocent sweetness emerge in yet another new and surprising way. “Idiot,” she whispered fondly, before turning back to cold bitch: “Beg, bitch. Beg hard. Harder than you’ve ever begged for anything in your whole, wimpy, pathetic life.”

Literature Section “06-96[X] Channah Makes Penny Beg for It”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 96 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 912 words::Explicit 1040 words—Accompanying Images: 1824-1827—Published 2025-05-20—©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.

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