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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Second!” Rivqah insisted.

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

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

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

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

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

“I—I—” Channah scrambled for words. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I consent,” Húanglóng agreed quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But what?” Fang asked distinctly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In so many ways,” Rivqah snorted.

“You have no idea,” Channah concurred.

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

“I can see that!” Tifaret agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Explicit version containing bullying, chastity, orgasm, analpenetration, analsex, CBT, consensualnonconsent, and asstomouth themes at 07-15X The Sex Surpassing Her Understanding at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  After a week of hazing by the succubae, and a looooong sleep, the first full day of Chastity’s and Penance’s honeymoon with Channah is finally beginning.  Before dawn, while Penny sleeps, Channah suspends Chastity by her wrists and ankles from the roof of her gazebo deep in the garden, gags her, and tops the hell out of her.  NOW:

“Fuuuuuccckkk that’s hot,” Channah blurted around their kiss as Chastity, shuddering and starting to cry.  She felt Chastity jerk as her sensitive bottom felt what Channah was growing down there.  With some difficulty, she forced herself to let go of her girl for a second to find something she needed, pausing when she turned back to absorb Chastity’s red face and pouring eyes and, above all, her utterly- and completely-helpless posture, feeling a flash of heat.  “Ohhhhh…. Honeydoll, you are well and truly at my mercy.  You’re as helpless as a newborn, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Domina!”  Chas sobbed, crying a little louder and nodding her head pathetically.

Anointing herself, and Chastity, with olive oil, she carelessly tossed aside the jar.  She rubbed the oil over her jariya’s bottom, practically chittering with delight as the girl danced and moaned and—

Channah froze for a second, scarcely believing her eyes, and then growled a deep-throated, forceful laugh that was different and striking enough, it caused Chastity to open her own eyes to see what was happening.  She immediately followed Channah’s gaze downward to her own waist and squealed like a grammar-school student noticing a tarantula crawling up their torso.

Overcome, Channah invoked curses—this time, with her usual gusto and assertive sense of agency—enough to make devils blush.  She practically pounced on Chastity, joining with her.  “You’re mine now, aren’t you, little girl?”

“Yes, Domina!” Chas bawled.  “I’m yours!  I’m totally yours!  I belong to you!  Please, oh please—ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!”  The expressions on this girl’s face as Channah took her, as hard as she could, understanding what she was feeling every time Channah pulled on her with her hands were an incredible—and for Channah, intoxicating—combination of pain, vulnerability, trust, and need.  It was, she realized with a shuddering surprise, her head practically exploding with the epiphany, the way Penny made her feel every single time—the way Penny was built—and was precisely what made Penny the perfect demon-bait.  It was what she imagined the one who had banished her experienced when humans suffered or even martyred themselves for their faith:  Perfect happiness, perfect elation—no!  Oh, shit!  Her mind reeling, she decided it was perfect and selfless love, the love that asked for nothing in return and acted purely out of that… thing, that part of humanity their maker had shared with humans, what they called their soul.

Now Channah had to scream, burying her face in Chas’s shoulder to muffle the sound of her own banshee wail as she experienced something on a par with what she had experienced yesterday with Penny—both times in her male aspect.  And she felt her cheeks redden in an unfamiliar embarrassment at how quickly she had finished.  She wasn’t sure if it was the depth and breadth of the magical connections she had forged with these two girls, or the excitement of what they had helped her begin yesterday, or the sheer perversity of the fact that to be able to capitalize on all she had invested in them, she could not do with either of them what she did as naturally as breathing.  She snorted into Chastity’s neck, shaking her head at the irony of it all, and decided what she was experiencing was probably a combination of all three factors working together.  Perhaps in combination with other factors she wasn’t as focused on right now.

As her last tremors finally subsided, she sighed and laughed ruefully, deciding the pleasure was something for her to embrace and enjoy, rather than worry about.  Returning to her lover’s mouth, the two of them shared another long, slow, sensual, completely-uneven kiss:  Channah standing proud and tall, fully refreshed, master of her own fate and her own world; Chastity hanging helplessly, badly-used by her master, her muscles and skin aching, sobbing, whimpering, weak and broken.  But both of them feeling united by their passion and the intense connection their intimacy had forged between them.

Finally, Channah pulled her head back and whispered:  “Are you going to be my good girl if I let you down?”

“Yes, Domina,” she nodded hopefully.  “Please, Domina.  I will be!  Forever and always!”

“Aww….”  And Channah couldn’t resist kissing her, just a minute or two more.  Finally, with a sigh, Channah reached up and yanked Chastity’s ankle chain from the hook, drinking up her ache as her body tried to readjust.  She was hanging by her wrists, her legs too numb and rubbery to support her.  “One last kiss, while we still can.”

Her girl looked up with her with wide, alarmed eyes.  “While we–?”  Channah kissed her quiet, then yanked her wrists off the hook and eased her down to a kneeling position at Channah’s feet.

“Before you’re too dirty,” Channah clarified brutally, shuffling to move it right into Chastity’s face.  “You know what to do.  You’ve seen Penny do it.”

Literature Section “07-15[X] The Sex Surpassing Her Understanding“—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 15 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 819 words::Explicit 1101 words—Accompanying Images:  2051-2055—Published 2025-07-15—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

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

Explicit version containing bullying, chastity, masturbation, CBT, and consensualnonconsent themes at 07-14X The Agony and the Ecstasy at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  After a week of hazing by the succubae, and a looooong sleep, the first full day of Chastity’s and Penance’s honeymoon with Channah is finally beginning.  Before dawn, while Penny sleeps, Channah suspends Chastity by her wrists and ankles from the roof of her gazebo deep in the garden, gags her, and tops the hell out of her.  NOW:

“It’s confusing… even disorienting… isn’t it?  Because it’s like being punished and loved at the same time.  But imagine what it’s like to be me, that is, if you can get past yourself for a minute!  I need to punish you but I want to love you!

I mean, think about how much work it’s going to be with you trussed up like this, hanging like a side of beef—well,” she laughed, “Let’s be honest:  not really beef.  I know!  A side of lamb!  My little lamb-chop.”  And she began timing her blows to match and emphasize the words of her speech.  “Do you imagine this is going to be a comfortable, lazy game for me?!  I should think not!  Here I’ll be standing and practically bending over backwards to angle myself and thrust in and out, probably having to squat and stand up, maybe even perch on my tippie-toes, and… what?  You’ll just be hanging out here, as pretty and relaxed as you please?  In my lovely garden?  While I do all the work?!  Ooh!  It’s so unfair!  It makes me so angry!”  Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

“Isn’t it?  Unfair?” she cooed, and when she didn’t get an answer:  “That wasn’t rhetorical.  I asked you:  ‘ISN’T IT?!’” Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

Chastity frantically nodded and jabbered into her gag.

Snickering, Channah paused, moving around and kissing Chastity again as she pressed her soft hips forward, rubbing up against Chastity, being careful not to move her torso while they kissed because her girl was so close.   Murmuring around her tongue and Chastity’s stretched lips, rubbing the paddle over Chastity’s sore, sensitized hindquarters while she stroked Chastity’s hair, she continued:  “But you’re a lucky girl, aren’t you?”  And when Chastity nodded, Channah cooed and laughed and rubbed noses with her a moment before getting back to the kissing, little kisses on her cheeks and eyes and down to her ears. 

And then, back to the spanking:  a heavy, fast rhythm in her own head with a strange, almost lyrical quality. “You can’t imagine what it’s like to be a workaholic, at a job where your mission and half the work you do are also your only hobby.  For millennia!  I love it to fuck!  I probably, literally, exist for it to fuck!  But to do it all day, almost every day—and even every night!  Even while I sleep!  Can you imagine—well, I guess you humans dream about what you do during the day, too, but I’m sorry, it’s just not the same!  It’s how I feed my spirit, and it’s just another form of doing my damned—so to speak,” she giggled, “—job!  Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang!  Even I need a little variety!  Some creativity!  And it’s so precious to have a couple of girls who really, genuinely care for me, not the usual string of sad-sack horndogs who’d be just as happy with their own sister or grandmother or domestic animal, for that matter—anything with a hole.  Half of them would marry a loaf of bread if it would cook and clean for them!  Men!  Oh, sending them to hell is fun, don’t get me wrong, but as a group, they’re…” she shrugged.  “Total junk food.  The biggest, blandest, most undifferentiated pile of oversalted chips ever served up to anyone.  I need some fresh, wriggly little fish, like you and Penny, to go with my chips!”

“Yes, you’re right, of course, I do care more about her than I do you,” Channah didn’t even fully understand why she needed to say that, but she couldn’t help herself, twisting the knife at every opportunity, delighting at Chastity’s crushed whimper.  Of course, she was a demon, so it was easy enough to chalk if off to her evil and sadistic nature.  “But it’s not really about her—it’s complicated—but—the point is, I do love you too, little bimbo, in my own way, I really do; I even care about you!  And I know you love me.  So—what I’m trying to say is, I’m happy to work hard for you—not as hard as you,” she snickered, “I mean, I am the boss, and rank does have its privileges!  But I’m really enjoying this… I’m really going to enjoy this, even if its ten times as much work for me as a regular mark would be.”

And suddenly, just as Chastity started grunting and twitching with greater urgency and speed, Channah stepped back, removing her right hand, regarding her prey, her expression turning cruel and mean.  “But I do think you should suffer for me, bitch!  Because I am a Queen of Hell, and I demand your suffering as tribute!  Is that wrong, little cow?  Not rhe—” but Chastity was already shaking her head, as emphatically as she could, satisfying her master. 

“And besides—maybe most importantly—I like it!” she leaned closer, smelling the heady combination of fading arousal and spiking fear, and shuddering from it.  “And you really, really, really want to please me, your Domina, don’t you, dear?” she pouted, nodding along casually with Chastity.

With a lingering, insolent gaze, Channah moved out of Chastity’s line of sight.  “Good!” she agreed, taking a strong, balanced position and using both hands to bring the paddle up and across, almost like a golf swing, to match the angle of the blow to Chastity’s bottom.

Crack!  Chastity thrashed and cried out behind her gag as Channah hissed:  “Fuck yeah!”  And moaned with her arousal.  “That’s for finishing without permission!”

Crack!  OH! That’s good!”  Channah growled.  “Good girl! That’s for lying!”

Crack!  “You’re dancing like a water bubble on hot iron!”  She ran her hand over her girl’s bright red buttocks and moaned.  “They’re already hot and red like iron in a forge, sweetie!  Your buttocks are beautiful!”  And, inspired, she kissed each of Chastity’s cheeks, pressing and dragging her lips hard across the ultrasensitive, infrared skin and laughing, before stepping back.  “That was for your second time without authorization.”

Crack!  She gasped with her arousal, then breathed heavily for a moment, before she could regain control of herself enough to gasp:   “That was for being such a dumbo.  And—” she added impulsively, almost tempted to give a sixth whack, “—for embarrassing me in front of my Court with your selfishness and stupidity!”

Crack!  And she laughed, gasping for breath, still holding the paddle in her left hand and pressing it against Chastity’s back as a reminder of her power, straight up her spine from buttocks to shoulders, her left hand resting on the curve of her bottom, comfortably for her, very uncomfortably for her wriggling girl.  She literally rubbed it in, her hand to the girl’s bottom, patting and stroking it in a way that would have been comforting if her skin hadn’t already been on fire.  “There, there, and that was for your third time.”  She gasped in mock-surprise, cradling Chas’s soft flesh and observing with a hoot:  “It feels like a deflated little loaf of bread!  There, there, my little vanilla roll.”  She kissed her, hungrily, practically tearing off her gag to seal her own lips back over her girl’s mouth, shuddering as she squeezed the soft gooshy flesh down there.  She was laughing and moaning at once, lost in the bliss of her girl’s helpless scramble of misery and adoration, confusing her and messing her up. Moving to face her full-on from the front, she reached around and grabbed her buttocks,  struggling not to laugh as she used her own mouth to hush her. 

Literature Section “07-14[X] The Agony and the Ecstasy “—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 14 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 1269 words::Explicit 1370 words—Accompanying Images:  2047-2050—Published 2025-07-14—©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.

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

Explicit version containing bullying, precum, chastity, masturbation, CBT, and consensualnonconsent themes at 07-13X Hung Out to Get Wet at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  After a week of hazing by the succubae, and a looooong day and night’s sleep, the first full day of Chastity’s and Penance’s honeymoon with Channah is finally beginning.  Before dawn, while Penny sleeps, Channah leads Chastity deep into the garden, chains her wrists together and hangs them from a hook, then chains her ankles together.  “I—I don’t understand—” Chas whined.  “I think you do, baby,” Channah grinned.  “I mean, you can’t—can you?”  NOW:

“I totally can, lover.  Of course I can,” Channah assured her, waited a beat, and then—proved it, shouting:  “Raise. Your legs!” seizing the ankle chain in her hands and pulling up hard on it, knocking Chas off her feet and then jerking up on the chain with such force she was able to lift Chas’s ankles up higher than her wrists and drop the ankle chain over the same hook holding her wrist chain.

“Oh fuck!”  Chastity squeaked, kicking and flailing helplessly while Channah ran her hands all over her body.

“Oh yes!”  Channah promised.  “Soon enough.  But be patient.”  And, suddenly, sounding unconvincingly innocent, she asked:  “How often did you break the rules yesterday, sweetie?’  Mm?”

Chas stopped moving and looked horrified.  Channah didn’t even say anything, she just slapped her girl’s bottom, hard.  “Two times, Domina!”

“Oh, dear.”  She shook her head and tut-tutted.  “I’d think you were a liar if I didn’t’ know already what a little dummy you are.”

Looking hurt and confused, Chas’s eyes darted from side to side, trying to figure out her mistake.

“One.  Two.  Three, sugar ninny.  You broke the rules again with your sisterwife, even after I reminded you what a bad girl you had already been.”

And Chas was even more pierced by knowing she had been stupid in answering her Domina, than she had been thinking she had been tricked by Channah, because she had betrayed herself and her Domina.  “Oh, oh I’m sorry, Domina!  I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what?!” Channah demanded, slapping her hindquarters on both sides, then surprising Chastity by unlocking her chakra box and slowly pulling it off, giggling equally at her girl’s expressions of arousal and shock, and the way she came to full attention.  “Silly girl,” Channah laughed, slapping her and making her yelp.  “Whatcha gonna do about it?” she glanced down significantly, delighted to hear Chas’s frustrated groan.  “Don’t worry, I’ll see what I can do to get rid of that for you.  Sorry—for—what?!

“I—what?”

“What exactly are you sorry for, airhead?!”  Whack!

“Oh!  I’m sorry—”

Whack!  “For what?!”

“Oh Domina, for everything!  For both—for all of it!”  Whack!  “OW!” she howled.

For? what?  Answer me sorry girl!  And don’t wake up your sisterwife with your bawling.”

“For lying—I mean, for lying, for being stupid, for breaking the rules, for being-stupid—again…” she finished miserably.

Whack!  Whack!  Whack!  Whack!

“That’s four things!”  Channah managed to sound indignant.  “And you forgot to apologize for making such a loud noise!”

This time, Channah whacked her even as she apologized again.  “I’m sorry I’m sorry ooh!  That stings—I’m sorry!”

“Obviously not enough.  Puddin’ would be soft as mush after the first whack,” she giggled.  “Open wide!”

 “I said wide!”  And she pushed a red leather ball into Chastity’s wide-opened mouth.  “This is so you don’t wake up Penny,” she cooed wickedly, using a buckling leather strap to hold the ball in place, before reaching down—still holding her girl’s gaze, seeing it turn afraid again as Channah’s predatory smile widened—and rising to reveal what had made the clattering sound before:  “I brought your paddle,” she cooed, revealing the Muladhara paddle made just for her.

Chastity made a muffled mewling noise and twisted uselessly, shaking her head sharply.

“You little tease.  As if that’s going to stop me, my darling dunce.  You’re just trying to turn me on,” she laughed, using her right hand to pull Chastity’s head forward for another long kiss, continuing until Chastity relaxed enough again to get into it and start kissing her back, even as Channah worked the edge of the bat up between Chastity’s cheeks, rocking it back and forth, laughing because she knew exactly what she was doing to Chastity.

Breaking their kiss, she rubbed her thumb against Chastity and snorted, bringing it up to Chastity’s mouth.  “That’s for later, girl.  Apparently, you think this is all about youAgain!

Chastity shook her head and tried to make negative noises, assuring her otherwise, but Channah ignored her sliding the paddle away and moving to Chastity’s left side, moving her right hand back down to play, teasing her until she started to pant.

And that was when Channah started to paddle her, one-handed, with her right hand manipulating Chastity, her body pressed up against her side, brushing her arm and knee—which were both about the same height as Chas’s head, and a bit lower than Channah’s—with soft kisses while her left hand thwacked Chastity’s bottom from an imperfect and awkward position, Chastity jumped pleasingly with every blow in response to Channah’s soft, teasing caresses and she started to make little gurgling sounds.

“Oh, dear, I’m not very good at this, am I?”  Channah tittered.  “Or you’re really boy-stupid.  At this rate, I’m not sure how I’m ever going to get you back in your box.”  She purred at the desperate sounds Chastity was making, and impulsively paused to lean around and make out with her lovergirl for a minute, before resuming.  “You do look kind of dazed and muddled.  I guess maybe I haven’t forgotten how to hurt and love a girl at the same time.  I know that can be terribly confusing, can’t it?”  Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

Literature Section “07-13[X] Hung Out to Get Wet”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 13 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 876 words::Explicit 1018 words—Accompanying Images:  2043-2046—Published 2025-07-13—©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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Literature Section “06-93 Penny’s Yoga Lesson”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 93 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1254 words—Accompanying Images:  1814-1815—Published 2025-05-17—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.