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

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Húanglóng have agreed to resolve a disagreement between them by betting on a game of Perdition, the demonic version of tarot.  The atmosphere is rowdy.  The doors have been closed and the initial stakes have been pledged.  Now, play begins.  NOW:

Penny was still draped helplessly with her arms over Fang’s and Kadidia’s shoulders, her legs over their knees, her bottom hanging vulnerably in space, her midsection exposed, and her mouth filled with the bottle of tincture slowly oozing into Penny’s distressed face.

When Channah turned to look at her, she paused, absorbing the tableau, and grinned with genuine delight before she began:  “Is everyone being as dutiful as little Penny in anteing up?  A flagon or a bong, my wickeds.  A flagon or a bong!” she reminded them, prompting the laggards to hurry and the rest—including Esmeray on behalf of Penny—to chorus: “Staked and baked!”  Each laggard repeated the same phrase until everyone had imbibed as required

“We need a dealer!”  Channah declared.  “And since there’s only one eligible player, I should say we need our dealer.  Penny my dear-heart, we need to know if you’re ready to deal.  Before you answer—” she held up one finger warningly, “need I remind you that for all intents and purposes, you’re still in hell, my love, and hell expects you to play your part and play the game.  And if you’re expecting heaven to help you, well…” she shrugged.  “You know you’ve cut your ties to heaven a dozen times over now, don’t you?”

With a stricken look, Penny nodded as best she could.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to list them all off for you?” She asked, holding up her hand so she could count them off one finger at a time, provoking a ripple of laughter in the room.  “Sodomy, contracting with the Queen of Hell, marrying the Queen of Hell—more sodomy, participating in a Profane Rite—”

Enthusiastically participating in an Obscene Rite,” Kadidia interjected, laughing and giving her genitals another brutal squeeze.

“Exactly!  Can you remember your place?”   And when Penny nodded, Channah cried:  “Excellent!  Hands off the dealer!”

Kadidia, Fang, and Esmeray released Penny with various degrees of reluctance or casual disregard, barely giving her a chance to slide back onto the bench before falling to the ground.

Penny slumped in her seat, a desperate, lost, regretful look in her eye until Channah clapped her hands to get the girl’s attention and cautioned her:  “Deal, worshipful wife of mine.  Triumphs only.”  And, warming to her taunt, she hissed:  “Chattel of Hell.”

As if forcing herself though a barricade by sheer force of will, disturbingly at odds with the thousand-yard stare in her eyes, Penny picked up the cards, taking the Triumphs and shuffling them woodenly, even absent-mindedly, oblivious to the looks of the demons around her.

“That’s enough shuffling, zuckerbär,” Channah prompted gently, with glances at Kadidia and Fang, who shrugged.  “One card to each player, face up, counterclockwise.  Low card starts.”

Penny mechanically set down Justice—eight—before Kadidia, who was still tut-tutting with mild disappointment when Penny laid the Chariot—seven—in front of Judas, who shrugged and nodded, even as the Lovers—six—were dealt to Miriam, who predicted:  “This can’t last.” The High Priest—five—appeared next, before Channah, who also opened her mouth but then shook her head without speaking.  Rivqah received the Emperor—four—and Húanglóng the Empress—three—before players and lovers alike started shaking their heads doubtfully and predicting:  “No.  No way.”  Fang was dealt the High Priestess.  Two. 

“No!” “Stop!” “Hang on!” the players erupted.  And “Wait!” Channah shouted, half-rising and leaning forward across the table to pin Penny’s hand where it fell.  Penny looked up sharply to meet her eyes.

“Impossible a hucow cheated right in front of us all!” Judas barked.  “Five Hates she deals herself a high card.”

“Five it’s the Magician,” Rivqah countered, sounding surprised to hear the words coming out of her own mouth, as the two of them found their coins and whacked them on the table.

“Done!” Judas proclaimed delightedly.  “I might even have taken less than even odds!”

“High card,” Húanglóng bet, slapping a string of 10 Hate Coins on the table.

“Magician,” Miriam shrugged, almost embarrassed, following his example.

Fang, Kadidia, and Channah all looked at one another, then Channah looked back at Penny’s face.  “I saw only surprise in the dealer’s face,” she admitted.  “Any takers for high card?”

After a moment of silence, Fang shrugged.  “I’m not that superstitious yet.  I’ll bet…” she considered, pulling some coins from her pocket and rattling them idly, then used her other hand to pull a single coin out. “One.”  She set it on the table.

“One?!” Channah burst out, mockingly.  “That’s it?!

“Done!” Kadidia beat Channah to the punch, slapping down a coin of her own.

“Cheating cow!” Channah complained.

“I’m only betting against my instinct because of my long experience with math,” Fang admitted.  “Just to support the principle of it.  Before concluding the dealer is spoiled.  You bet more on a high card and I’ll take your action, though.”

“Never mind,” Channah shrugged, releasing Penny’s hand and sitting back down opposite her.  And when Penny remained frozen, her hand still on Fang’s card, Channah amplified:  “Go on.  We all want to see it.”

Magician.  One.

The room erupted:  “Fraud!”  “Cheating!”  “Rotten dealer!”

Hong even paused in her attentions to Judas long enough to look back at the table and testify:  “A moment ago the girl did not know how to shuffle.  I’d—well, bet on it,” she admitted.

“And from what I know of her, I would be very surprised to learn otherwise,” Miriam agreed, collecting her winnings even as Rivqah—nodding in agreement with her—was collecting her own.

“Then why did you bet otherwise?!”  Judas demanded as Rivqah shrugged tentatively.  “More than fraud—conspiracy!

“Maybe not that,” Húanglóng conceded, laughter confirming that the others were equally skeptical.  “Yet.  But at least a reasonable suspicion of chicanery by the dealer!  Peel the dealer!”

“Peel the dealer!” several voices immediately repeated.  “Peel the dealer!  Peel the dealer!” half the crowd chanted.

Penny, entirely with reason, looked around the room nervously, shrinking back unconsciously until she bumped into Esmeray, who prevented her from jerking forward again by putting her hands on Penny’s shoulders and murmuring:  “They just want to see your arms are bare when you deal,” she explained, tugging Penny’s sleeves down her arms.

“Yes, Qahramanah,” she agreed submissively, then suddenly screeched, clutching the front of her dress:  “Wait!  I forgot—”

“I’ll hold it up,” Esmeray assured her.  “You pay attention and focus on the gameDon’t let them distract you.  We do not want to lose any more than necessary.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Fully peeled, I think!” Tifaret demanded.  “Just to be safe.”

As Penny’s arms came out of her sleeves, Fang and Kadidia caught her hands, holding them still to loosen and remove her wrist cuffs. While Esmeray gathered her dress just under her shoulders and tied it behind her back to stay in place, the two succubae ran their hands up and down her arms, from fingertips to shoulders and armpits.  “Peeled and sealed,” Kadidia concluded, returning Penny’s hand and snickering:  “How’s that?”

“Good,” Fang allowed, “But I’d say peeled, sealed, and ready to deal,” drawing a nod of respect from Kadidia as several of the demons snorted and groaned.

“Shuffle and deal, Meoto,” Kadidia prompted.  “And keep your arms above the table!”  Penny obeyed, quite aware that this time, as she leaned forward and picked up the cards, everyone in the room was watching her hands and the cards with more-than-casual interest.

After she had shuffled eight times, Kadidia barked:  “Cut!”

Penny hesitated for a second, then murmured to herself “Counter-clockwise” as she set the deck before Fang, who lifted about three-quarters of the cards off the top and set them to one side.  As soon as Penny was sure it was her job, she set the short stack on the tall one and, nodding, began to deal as Hong had taught her, three cards at a time; until the last round, when she had only 8 cards in her hand.  Pausing, she counted and shook her head.

“What is it, slave?” Kadidia asked.

“There are only… eight cards left.  I’m sorry, I must have made a mistake.”

“Not that I saw, darling,” Channah drawled.  “And I was watching.”  The other demons nodded.

“But there are 134 cards in the deck,” Penny frowned.  “Divided by eight… there should be six remainder for the starter.”  And then her eyes widened.  “For me!”

“128,” several members corrected her.

“No, Mistresses and Masters,” Penny insisted.  “22 plus 8 times 14 is 134—”

“The other 6 cards are around here somewhere, sweetie,” Channah explained.  “We’ll find them before the next deal.”

“What?” Penny looked worried and confused.  “I—I’m sorry, Mistress, I don’t understand—”

Channah held up her hands.  “That’s what happens, sugar.”

“You should call her ‘peach,’” Judas suggested.  And then, demonstrating with his hands:  “Or peaches.”

“Oh, please!”  the succubae simultaneously protested.

“And the other one ‘pineapple.’  Or maybe ‘lemon.’”

“Lemon’s too tart for Chastity,” Miriam opined.  “She’s sweet too.  More like pineapple.”

“But lemon sounds better,” Rivqah suggested.

“You could use ‘Fènglí,’” Fang suggested.

“Or the local term—what is it, ‘piña?’” Miriam asked.

“The local would actually be ‘matsajtli,’” Channah corrected.

“That’s surely worse than ‘pineapple,’” Húanglóng suggested reasonably.  “I like the German.  ‘Ananas.’”

“’An anus?’  Perfect!” Judas deliberately mispronounced it.

“And on that note—Piña.  You can call her Piña if you must address my slaves as fruit,” Channah resolved the issue, before glaring at Penny.  “How long are you going to hold onto those cards and make us all keep staring at you?”

“I’m sorry, Mistress—did I drop six cards?  Should I look under the tab—“

DO NOT MOVE while those cards are in your hand!” Channah commanded sharply.

“The extra cards always disappear when you play with eight,” Esmeray explained behind her.

“Wha—” and as Penny started turning toward Esmeray everyone cried:

NO!  Keep your hands where they are!”

“I’m—I’m sorry—” Penny was flustered.

“Mind your qahramanah.  Trust her.  Her words are always your truth,” Channah reminded Penny.  “And, yes, the extras disappear,” Channah concurred.  “But we’ll find them in time for the next deal.  Now finish this one, Princess!  “

Knowing ‘Princess’ was rarely used to indicate Channah was pleased, Penny hastily finished dealing the last eight cards, waiting for the others to take their cards before she picked up her own.

“Show me,” Esmeray commanded, leaning forward.  “Carefully!

Penny caught a sharp look from Channah and cringed.  “Mistress?” she whispered.

But Channah shook her head snappishly and looked back down at her cards.  Before Penny could try to put her finger quite on what was happening, Esmeray leaned forward to whisper into Penny’s ear:  “With eight players, most hands will go to Triumphs but—” her eyes fell on the Pharaoh of Spades Penny was carefully cradling to show only her and grunted with satisfaction.  “As a human, you cry ‘I grovel before my Queen’ when you play it.  When anyone plays it.”

“Why would I—?” Penny started asking out loud.

“Ssht!” she clapped her hand over Penny’s mouth again.  “Do not talk out loud about what you’re playing, ninny!”  Releasing her grip once Penny nodded, looking embarrassed, Esmeray continued:  “It’s the tincture, silly girl.”

“It is?” she asked, amazed.

“You’re high.  Intoxicated,” she clarified.

I am?!” Penny asked, even more amazed, to the amusement of everybody who wasn’t human.

“You so are,” Rivqah laughed. 

“The high may make you want to talk even more, Meoto,” Esmeray pointed out, which provoked further laughter.

“Surely not that!” Miriam grinned.

“Just what we need,” Channah smirked.

“I may not have thought the laudanum quite through before recommending it, Majesty,” Kadidia conceded wryly.

“So, guard your mouth particularly well,” Esmeray cautioned her.

“Yes, Domina.”  Then she turned and leaned back her head, carefully leaving her hands where they were on the table, to whisper:  “But why should I say—”

Using her hand to further muffle their exchange, Esmeray explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world:  “Because the Pharaohs of Spades and Hearts are her cards.  And you’re in her presence.  And she’s your master.”

“Lillith and Cain stop chatting Meoto and play!” Channah exclaimed.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Esmeray answered sharply, snapping at Penny:  “Play it, say it, and follow my lead for the rest of the trick,” she cautioned.  “You too, Chas—imitate what I say!”

“Yes, qahramanah,” her jawari answered, Chas turning away from Húanglóng, staring curiously as Penny laid down the Pharaoh of Spades, Penny leading and all the humans at the table following with:  “I grovel before my Queen!”

“As you ought, you primitive wretches!” Channah snarled, starting to pull a card from her hand, then shaking her head firmly, shoved back before playing the Ot of Spades.

As play proceeded, Esmeray explained:  “All the face cards are associated with prominent demons.  Kadid—” she began, before interrupting herself when Judas—of all people—played the Rajah of Spades to exclaim, at a much higher volume:  “Hail Judas!”, echoed by the other humans.  Quickly resuming, she explained “Kadidia is the Huángdì and—Hail Rivqah!” as Miriam played the Sultanah of spades.  No one played the Huángdì, but everyone had at least one spade, giving Penny the first trick. Miriam, having lost the highest card, finished her wine and burped loudly, raising her cup above her head until her teammate George realized he was meant to fill it as she continued playing.

Penny, carefully holding her cards so only she and Esmeray could see them, tapped the Pharaoh of Swords; and when Esmeray nodded her consent, played it.  More calmly, since there was less urgency and she didn’t have to keep an eye on the cards, Esmeray finished explaining:  “Similarly, Fang is the Huángdì of hearts and Miriam the Sultanah.”

“Who is the Rajah?”

“The Succubus A-a-r-a-d-h-y-a.  But since she isn’t here, you don’t dare use her name.”

“Whyever not?”

“Lest she hear you,” Esmeray answered, the simple statement chilling Penny so deeply she shivered.  “And appear expecting someone summoning her to have had a good—by which I mean a terrible—reason for doing so.”

“That actually works?!”  Penny squeaked.  “Summoning them by calling their name?!”

Esmeray snickered.  “Rarely.  Not unless you’re chanting a spell or making an offering worthy of them.  Which is exactly why it’s dangerous to summon one accidentally.  If they’re close by, and bored or needing a distraction, they might appear.  And because they consider you have summoned them without the proper respect, they are not well-disposed.”  While Penny was digesting that she added:  “Oh!  Húanglóng is not your Lord, but as a King of Hell he deserves respect.  When a Queen or King of another court is present, you say, ‘The dread Queen.  (Or King.).’ But only a Queen or King!”

Penny lost the second trick to Fang, who played a Triumph.  She started the third trick with a diamond.  The moment she placed it on the table, Channah’s eyes flicked from it up to Penny’s, something brewing there—or rather, continuing to brew, that had begun when she saw her cards.  When it came to her turn, she played the Pharaoh of Diamonds, only to lose the trick to Rivqah, who played a Triumph.  When Rivqah led the following trick with a Coin, Channah shook her head; and—catching everyone’s attention—hissed with displeasure when she played a low-ranking Triumph, The Chariot..  She was more upset to play it, than to lose it to a higher Triumph played by Miriam.  Channah’s only reaction to that was to drink her deep draught with poor humor.  Her reaction was one of relief when Miriam led with a wand—only to look startled when a Triumph was played; and uneasy as she laid down the Huángdì of Wands.  Next she lost the Sice of Swords, hissing with fury as she was forced to play (and lose) the Pharaoh of Wands, followed by one of the higher cards in the deck, Death.  Penny was drawn back to Channah’s face, again and again; and she nervously felt certain Channah was aware of it, imagining that would displease her.  But Channah never looked back at her.  And Penny couldn’t help checking in with her expression, feeling uneasy and jumpy about whatever darkness was brewing there.  When Húanglóng led with the Cater of Spades, Channah’s face darkened noticeably.  And just as Channah pulled and played the Trey of Spades, Penny gasped, turned pink, and then grunted as quietly as she could in an expression that could have been a reaction to the game but seemed a bit too emphatic for such a low and unremarkable card this late in the round.

Channah lost the Trey of Spades, the Devil, the Pharaoh of Hearts and The High Priestess in rapid order.  A bad run for what seemed on the surface to be a reasonably strong hand.  As she played the Pharaoh of Hearts, Fang became curious about Penny’s combination of discomfort and embarrassment.  Reaching over one hand, she flipped her skirt up, snorting sardonically to find the hard sole and heel of Channah’s mule grinding mercilessly into Penny’s crotch.

“Don’t tell us she’s tempting the fates?” Rivqah asked.

Fang laughed.  “The opposite.  Poor Penny’s probably wishing right now she could hide her little clit back in its cage where it belongs.”  And at the expression that flitted involuntarily over Penny’s face, seeming to confirm the suggestion, the entire table erupted in even louder laughter.

Using her thumb to wipe a tear from Penny’s eye and feed it to her, Kadidia growled:  “She’s such a sensitive little princess.”

“She!  Is!” Channah agreed, grunting with the effort of a particularly brutal pair of shoves that made Penny moue and scoot back.

“Huh-unh!” the entire table complained.

And when Channah relented for a moment from her assault, Esmeray quickly shoved Penny’s hips forward, Channah beginning to crunch it viciously again once Penny was back in her place. 

Esmeray, leaning awkwardly over Penny’s shoulders to play the next card from her hand when the girl didn’t seem to notice it was her turn, trying with limited success to avoid too much bodily contact, felt compelled to complain:  “Mistresses and Masters, the dealer’s ability to play is being interfered with!”

And with a disgusted sigh revealing her frustration at the game, but without disputing Esmeray’s claim, Channah stopped crushing on Penny, leaving her foot where it was and forgetting about it as her attention returned to the game.

When the points were counted, Penny had squeaked past Fang to win the first deal.  She looked slightly dazed as her teammates cheered and even the humans on other teams complemented them and seemed to take some kind of pride in it.

RULES OF THE CARD GAME THE CHARACTERS ARE PLAYING AVAILABLE HERE. [INSERT LINK]

RM: https://theremainderman.com/stories/07-38a-mans-ruin-succubaean-rules-for-playing-perdition/

DA:  https://www.deviantart.com/theremainderman-com/art/07-38A-Man-s-Ruin-Succubaean-Perdition-Rules-1239280264

Literature Section “07-38D R1 (Dealer Penny) WTF—Let the Dirty Games and Tricks Begin”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 38 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—3138 words—Accompanying Images:  2222-2223, 2241-2263—Published 2025-09-29—©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.

WARNING:  CONTAINS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT.

GAME RULES AVAILABLE HERE. [INSERT LINK]

RM: https://theremainderman.com/stories/07-38a-mans-ruin-succubaean-rules-for-playing-perdition/

DA:  https://www.deviantart.com/theremainderman-com/art/07-38A-Man-s-Ruin-Succubaean-Perdition-Rules-1239280264

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah and Húanglóng have agreed to resolve a disagreement between them by betting on a game of Perdition:  Demonic Tarot.  When Penny is upset to find her services anted up into the pot, Channah dares her to raise the stakes and fight for herself.  The game is beginning with the serious business of betting enhanced by shameless teasing and cheating on the side.  NOW:

Stake 1—Betting Their Asses

“As the hostess, it falls to me to call for the stakes.  With the House whole,” Channah began, batting her eyelashes at her husband:  “Sweetie dear, since you are offering a condition…”

Húanglóng responded, rolling his eyes:  “Yes, dear.  Channah, as stakes for this game, I offer the services of myself and two of my best vassals—their selection being subject to your veto—to spend exactly one week at Sademtsaowah using every ounce of our persuasive powers in good faith training every jariya you deliver to us there during the week we are committed to staying.  And as a condition for inducing you to make a counter-stake, I renounce any claim that under our marriage contract, marrying chattel would change their status or their treatment.”

“Thank you, my love,” Channah smiled and reciprocated:  “Húanglóng, as stakes for this game, I offer the services of my servants George, Jacob, Esmeray, Chastity, and Penance, with Fang’s consent Huifen—”

Fang quietly but audibly intoned “Consent.”

“and with Kadidia’s consent Boubacar—”

Kadidia likewise murmured “Consent.”

“In their present condition less any losses they incur during this esteemed game, for a period of exactly one week, with title and no restrictions of any kind except that you must return them in at least as good as the condition you received them, subject to normal wear and tear.  I will deliver them to you without anything else, not so much as a stitch of clothing or a sip of water, if you can win more tricks than me before the House is unsealed.”

“Your counter is acceptable, and my offer is firm.”

“I accept it.”

“DONE!” they both cried, slamming their fists on the table.

“Well-met and well-bet!” came several approving cries from around the table.

Stake 2—Staked and Baked

Practically before the cheers were finished, Judas impatiently barked:

“As stakes for every trick of this game, I offer on behalf of the Lodge that every member of the team losing the highest-ranked card, take a deep draught.  And as a condition for inducing the members of each team to agree, I propose every member of the Lodge finish a tankard or a bong before each deal and certify their compliance by pronouncing themselves ‘Staked and Baked’!”

“Seconded!” Húanglóng, Rivqah, and Kadidia all roared at once.  “Vote!”

“Aye!” every demon at the table announced, and then immediately stared at Penny, whose jaw had dropped at the proposal and had to close her mouth before she gulped.

“Excuse me, Mistresses and Masters.”  Turning to her teammates she asked “What do you think?”

While behind her came a chorus of loud boos and razz noises.  Penny glanced back, looking indignant, and burst:  “What?!  Mistresses.”

“This isn’t a democracy!” 

“Who do you think you’re playing with?!”

“I was told the rules—” more catcalls immediately drowned out Penny’s ability to speak, and almost, she capitulated, but noticing several players were laughing, Jacob looked pissed, Tiferet looked curious, and the human lovers looked resigned (and ignoring George’s confused expression), Penny frowned thoughtfully, turning back towards her teammates.

Before she could even articulate her question, Chas, with a gesture for her to hurry, said: “Yes!  Yes!  Of course!”

“Fine,” Esmeray agreed, unphased.

“Ah—Aye?” Penny said back to the table

“DONE!” Judas led a chorus comprised of everyone at the table except Penny, likewise leading the Lodge by slamming his fist down into the table.

“PRINCESS!”  Channah bellowed.

“Done,” Startled, she rapped the table unconvincingly, earning another round of complaints.

Stake 3—Packed and Jacked

“Is this one as soft as she seems?”  Judas demanded.

“She is!”  Kadidia, Rivqah, and Miriam all chorused with various degrees of disparagement while Penny’s shoulders stiffened and Channah choked with laughter on the bong she was inhaling from.

Judas shook his head while Húanglóng barked, “I think I see where this is going!  Doing—as you have asked—by applying my ingenuity to their training, I think we need to play by dragon rules.  I propose we add the Dragon King rule for the duration of the game!”  From their reactions, Channah and her handmaidens knew this rule, and would be likely to approve.

“I am not familiar with that,” Judas admitted, while several other players shook their heads to indicate the same.

“Point of order—” Penny raised her hand, being completely ignored by Húanglóng, who bellowed over her:

“I propose, starting immediately, that the starter of each deal be able to unilaterally change and add rules at the beginning of each deal!”

“I love it!”  “Second!”  “Vote!” various demons cried.

Penny seized a momentary silence to blurt out at high speed:  “point-of-order-you-can’t-add-rules-the-first-round!”  And then when the demons came up short, staring at her, she swallowed again.  “Can you?”

Kadidia and Fang exchanged an amused, but intent look over Penny’s head that the girls would soon understand meant they were communicating through their minds.  With a decisive nod, they both surprised Penny by sliding right up against her from either side, hooking their near arms under hers to push them behind their shoulders where they would be useless and locking them in place with their own arms, their near hands each reaching around Penny’s head to play with her hair and ears and giggling at her reaction.

“Hey!”  Penny protested ineffectually.  “Wha—you can’t—can you?!

“Actually, we can, chattel,” Fang assured her.  “As long as we don’t interfere with your game play—and since we haven’t even chosen the starter or the dealer yet, there’s no game to play—we can do—” she leaned in, brushing her lips over Kadidia’s hand and Penny’s ear to whisper:  “whatever we want.”

“And make you do whatever we want,” Kadidia added, reminding her:  “You’re still property of our Queen, and thus chattel to all the succubae.  Chattel.”  And then, seeing how Penny gasped, she reached her far hand around, nodding at Fang who followed her lead.  Both of them placed their hands on Penny’s knees, and when she tried instinctively to snap them together, both succubae laughed, slipping their hands partway up Penny’s thighs and seizing them by their insides, pulling them insistently.  “Are you… resisting, chattel?”  her soft, pseudo-intimate suggestion hinting at closeness while being pitched loudly enough for the whole table to hear, provoking a round of expressions of surprise and mock-concern.

“No, Mistress,” Penny whined, deflating and yielding as the two succubae prised her knees apart and then gasping again in shock, amusing the other teams, as they deftly lifted them over their own knees.

Before their hands snuck back towards Penny’s crotch, almost making the poor girl hyperventilate.

“Don’t move them back unless we tell you to,” Fang whispered.

“No, Mistress!”

“Do you know what your Domina gave us?”

“No, Mistress?”  Penny sounded uncertain and nervous.

“Access… privileges…” Fang hissed sensually, as her hand closed on Penny’s cage, squeezing it to command it to open and pulling it from her body, eliciting a deep, shocked breath that turned into a querulous squeal.

“She sounds scared!” Judas laughed.  “Certainly not the reaction you’d expect from a girl lucky enough to have kept her cock.  So far.”

“Oh, she doesn’t have a cock—look at it,” Fang simpered, leaning back so by leaning forward Judas could see it.

With a surprised sound, he laughed:  “Point taken!”

“But her clitty is very.  Hard,” Fang purred.

“And it is cute,” Kadidia teased.

“I’d warn you she hasn’t been allowed any cummies in some time and she’s close to popping but…” Channah shrugged.

“Oh, it’s obvious,” Kadidia laughed.

 “Open your mouth,” Fang commanded her quietly; and then:  “Wider.”  And when Penny obeyed, she pushed the cage, and the hem of Penny’s dress, between her teeth, commanding her to “Hold those fast!” This, and the way they were holding her arms behind them and her legs on top of theirs, had two salutary effects:  The first, of putting Penny completely on display for the very salacious attentions of her admirers, and the second, of shutting Penny up. 

Fang held up a single finger, her index finger, so close to Penny’s face her eyes crossed, and then slowly and dramatically, dropped it between Penny’s legs, tickle-stroking her clit from one end to the other, eliciting a forceful, helpless squeak and a helpless shudder that caused the entire crowd to erupt in delight.  Her face turned red and she writhed and shuddered helplessly under the intensity of Fang’s one, delicate, carefully-applied fingertip, entertaining the Lodge even as it embarrassed her.  Most of all, it embarrassed her she couldn’t help her body’s (and if she could admit it to herself, her soul’s) responses to the things that were done to her, no matter how much she tried.  It made her feel like a scandalous, sinful little hussy, and she was afraid it revealed her to be exactly that.

“What do you think… shouldn’t your team vote to play Dragon King Perdition?  Hmm baby?”

“You know we’d think up ever such sensual and obscene pleasures a scandalous, sinful little hussy like you would adore!”

Penny made a sharp, screeching sound of protest as the room erupted in cruel laughter, mortified and dismayed to have her own thoughts—thoughts she wished she could stop herself hearing, or better yet even having—broadcast to the roomful of people around her. 

“And I think we could add rules in the first round,” Kadidia managed to make it sound like something she’d just decided this moment, as her finger began brushing over Penny’s taint, slipping insidiously between the rising globes of her buttocks to explore and tease where they had not been invited.  But Penny’s face and labored breath and glowing skin made it obvious to everyone in the room that she was incapable of offering resistance to any violation, however outrageous, if only her expert handlers were the ones to demand it of her.  Her hips were starting to shift and roll, and the sounds she made when she breathed were becoming higher-pitched and harder.  “Don’t you, ‘zuckerbär’?”

“Maybe—” Penny almost seemed to have forgotten her mouth was supposed to be holding her cage and hem; the dress didn’t fall far, but her cage would have fallen to the floor and rolled under the table if Fang hadn’t caught it and tossed it on the table before setting her hand back to work.  “Domina Esmeray please—”

“Nooo,” her qahramanah promptly said, firmly and lyrically, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world but she was trying to explain it to a child.  Pushing her knuckles into Penny’s back, she urged her:  “Say ‘no’ or say nothing!” 

“Yes Mistress—I mean, no! OHOWOWOWW!” her voice jumped an octave and several decibels as Kadidia’s teasing finger curled with her other fingers into a vise she clamped around Penny’s purse, twisting and pinching it brutally enough that Penny instinctively started bringing her legs together and trying to struggle out of their arms.  But they just laughed, Kadidia wrenching all the harder and Fang turning her own gentle fingertip into a raking claw.

“Legs spread!” they both commanded at once, and with a whimper, and then sobbing, Penny made herself yield, her knees shaking with the effort to fight her own instincts while Kadidia continued to hurt her, confused further as Fang kissed her sweetly… and then Kadidia, aggressively.

Around them, the assault on Penny was bad news for everyone else of lower status.  The wisdom of Tifaret’s proactive attentions to her Queen became more obvious—by anticipating her liege’s pleasure, she at least had some measure of agency over how she served it. Whether Channah was kinder to her than her handmaidens had been to the cambions because of her demonic purity, or because of her cleverness, was not entirely clear.  But their particular cruelty to Jacob seemed confirmed by how Rivqah, almost idly, was turning and twisting the nipple clamps she had just affixed to him.  Oliver’s fate, meanwhile, was somewhere in the middle:  Standing rigidly, facing away from the table, to form a seat-back for Miriam.

Húanglóng, sitting on the other side of Fang, snarled, making a mildly disgusted gesture towards Penny, its mildness expressing more about his laid-back personality than his opinion of people:  “You’re rewarding her!  She’s clearly a nervous Nellie, a sour-faced Puritan, and even worse—a pedantic pseudo-intellectual!  All at once!”

Pseudo-intellectual,” Channah crowed.  “Ouch!  I’ll have you know I’ve invested in years of education for these three!”

“They’re shitting cattle!  Swine before whom you’ve cast your pearls.  ‘Pseudo’ at best, I’d say.  And I can assure you, little Ms. Twit—” Húanglóng shook his finger at Penny accusingly “—if you so much as open your entitled little mouth while you’re reporting to me, I’ll fill it immediately with something that needs servicing!  Speaking of which….”

Everyone who was a full-blooded demon was laughing, as Húanglóng leaned behind Fang to grab Huifen around her waist and Hong by her arm, pulling them both over to him and sitting them on opposite knees as they squealed and purred perfectly for him.  “Seeing as how you’re not using these…”

Fang’s face revealed little or nothing, but it can be said she didn’t look enthusiastic, or necessarily even pleased, by the King’s—not even her King’s—helping himself to her property.

Húanglóng would not have noticed if she had been more expressive; he was already locking lips with Hong, who was giggling and moving her hand between his legs, while Huifen followed her Mistress’s lead, leaning over to kiss his neck and running her hand over his chest.

On the other side of Esmeray, Judas, complaining:  “I’m not going to be the only one left out!  You two!” he snapped his finger at Chastity and Boubacar.  “Come get on my knees!”

Chastity felt her heart flutter; she just couldn’t tell why.  She felt fear, primarily of the unknown, but she also felt excitement, from that, and the way Judas looked; which was normal enough—not like the Dragon King with his nearly divine charisma and size—but fit and well-maintained.  And not the tiniest part of her was glad someone had at least picked her!  A minute later, despite her embarrassment at being ordered around and used as a prostitute, and by a male no less, she also felt herself hardening , provoking a pleased chuckle from Judas when he felt it.  It was a vile, nasty, dirty, delicious, daring excitement she’d become trained to without ever intending to; a shameful, wicked, thrilling feeling just on the cusp between craving and nausea, that she hadn’t felt with such force since her fagmaster had graduated a year ahead of her.  It was a kind of a sick, conditioned thrill serving the succubae hadn’t juiced her with.  Chastity didn’t know why, exactly; only that her reaction to being dominated by Judas was stronger and more confusing than serving Mayaan, or Channah and her Duchesses. 

She blushed a brilliant tomato red.  And she kinda liked it.

Obviously, she was not alone in her helpless and conflicted reactions to her treatment.  Fang was whispering, with mock-disgust:  “She’s leaking!” just as—miraculously from Penny’s point of view—Kadidia released her brutal hold on Penny, moving her hand to yank Penny forward by her leg until her bottom was hanging off the edge of the divan and only her legs and arms were holding her aloft.  Fang giggled, blowing on Penny’s ear.  “I’m not sure if I did this by exciting her, or you made her pee in fear!  A little bit of both, I think.”

“Either way, it will have to do,” Kadidia rumbled, collecting it on her fingertip and immediately pushing her long, powerful middle finger against, and then inside, Penny’s bottom as she cooed helplessly.  Her cry degenerated rapidly into a strange, delighted, strangled, gurgling sigh of a kind.  She concluded, with a satisfied smirk:  “How’s it feel to be packed and jacked, sweetie?”  The question was taken as rhetorical by the other demons, who laughed and applauded.

“Don’t sway!” Esmeray—the only one of the humans and cambions not being actively used by demons—took advantage of her situation to protect her team’s interests.  Alarmed, she growled, tapping Penny’s shoulder insistently from behind, seizing Penny’s neck with her other hand and pulling back on it so she could bite the back of her neck sharply to keep her attention focused.  “Demand they sustain your point of order!”

“I—er…” Penny croaked, her legs straightening and her toes pointing over her captors’ laps as she shuddered slightly:  “Sustained—me—please…”

Channah, laughing with the rest of them but quite serious, slammed her palms on the table and commanded, with a resigned tone:  “Stop!  She is not to cum!”

And as Fang and Kadidia abruptly withdrew, laughing in a conspiracy of glances, they revealed the wreck that was left of Penny, her eyes rolled up inside the lids of her eyes, her mouth hanging wide open and gasping, her head rolling from side to side, lying with her hands curled around Kadidia’s and Fang’s shoulders holding tight for dear life, her legs straight out and toes curling back in a hyperextended split, her whole body shuddering on her captors as her sensitive little clit throbbed with as much yang as it could muster between her legs.

Kadidia casually dipped and waggled her finger in Penny’s wine cup and fed it to her, quietly ordering her to clean it, repeating the action until she was satisfied her hand was pristine, as the conversation continued around them.

Stake 4—Orgasm Control

The whole table stared with fascinated suspense as Judas cried “A Hate she still comes!”

“I’ll cover that action,” Rivqah answered.  “Idiot.”

“How little he thinks of succubae!” Miriam agreed.

“Bring it in-house!” Tifaret demanded, requesting that he not merely lay a side bet but add stakes to the game, as Penny’s shaking slowed.

“Hear hear!” several others chorused.

“Whoever makes her cum first—” Judas started, distracted for good reason.

“No!  Boo!” came shouts immediately from most of the succubae around them, laughing and shaking their heads.

“What?”

“You are not going to reward anyone for making her cum!”  Channah complained.

“Whyever not?”

“Males!” howled the succubae from every direction, and even Judas laughed guiltily.

“Really, as with any steer, it wouldn’t be much of a bet, would it?” Rivqah observed.  “I mean…” she gestured towards the still-struggling, gasping Penny.

Tifaret snorted, almost spitting out a mouthful of wine.  “The only question would be whether we’d accidentally tear her little clit off as we fought to touch it first!”

“A touch is all it would take!” Fang agreed, smirking down at Penny’s bobbing member.  “Still!  She’s a horny little bitch.”

“And more to the point,” Húanglóng yelled, “No cheapening of the stakes!”

“I would never!” Judas thundered.  “You impugn me, sir!”  And then immediately undermined his own indignation by murmuring:  “What did I do?” revealing he clearly had no idea what Húanglóng was talking about.

“This steer is already a stake between Channah and I,” the dragon explained, “Any jariya, but especially a steer, is worth more quick than slack!”

“Well, I mean… a bull is worth more quick, surely?”  Rivqah frowned.

“Not to me,” Judas scoffed.  “I don’t need them hard.  Not that it’s ever a problem….”

The original steer in question finally started to calm, breathing more regularly, her muscles slowly relaxing from bow-taut to slumped, with a forlorn expression that amused those who saw it.

“Oh, all right,” Judas conceded.  “But if you want a prudish bet it will be better-formed by one of my viraginous sisters.”

“Damned right you are!” Kadidia agreed.

As it happened, it it was Esmeray who startled them all by making a not-very-modest proposal:  “As stakes for the game, I offer on behalf of the Lodge that if any other team makes Penny cum, they have to clean it up with their tongues.”

The table erupted immediately with exaggerated objections before she was even finished:  “No!”  “Outrageous!”  “She’s just a slave!”  “She should reward us for that!”

So Esmeray had to raise her voice to finish her wager:  “And if Penny or Chastity makes her cum, I’m going to fist them with the biggest item in their toybox and leave it inside the offender.”

The protests immediately trailed off as everyone at the table, while laughing or somehow managing not to, agreed that was fair.  Well, everyone except Penny and Chas, who despite their respective distractions, were startled enough to stare at her in shock.

“I think that should protect your interests dear, and my plans,” Channah admitted.  “Assuming, that is, Penny understands what we’re talking about?”  Everyone immediately looked at Penny, whose expression was all the answer they needed.  “I’d say she’s worked it out.”

Penny, afraid of being blamed for a demon’s work, could only manage:  “Maybe it would be best if you—put my cage back on, Domina?”

As the players dissolved in laughter, Channah shook her head.  “Certainly not!  Esmeray, if you could learn to enjoy the interests of succubae you’d have a bright future at this game.  That was an excellent wager.  Now I feel torn between my plans for Penny and the bright spectacle of someone having to deliver!  Exactly what this game is about!”

“Second!” called Kadidia, clarifying “the newly-proposed game stakes.”

Húanglóng, Rivqah, and Miriam all roared at once.  “Vote!”

“Done!” shouted everyone at the table, except Penny again (if she could even be said to be “at the table” anymore), whose jaw had dropped at the proposal and who didn’t even turn to her teammates before instinctively beginning:  “No!—” But Esmeray was ready for her, bringing her hand up from Penny’s neck to her mouth, covering it firmly and pulling the smaller woman back against her shoulder as Esmeray declared “Done,” in her usual businesslike way.  Penny instinctively reached up to seize Esmeray’s hands, but then hesitated, and instead of fighting, she obediently held onto Esmeray’s arm, looking indignant but uncertain.

Chas thought about trying to stand up for her friend, expecting (or perhaps, more accurately, hoping) it was pointless, and feeling guilty for her silence.

Kadidia, however, did act—offering a fresh bong to Esmeray and suggesting:  “This will fill her as well as a cock and better than your hand.”  And when she saw Esmeray wasn’t following:  “Use it for a pacifier on your zuckerbär.” 

“She’ll choke on it,” Esmeray assured her.  “And then probably throw up.  On us, Mistress.”

“From what I’ve seen of the girl, she’s likely right,” Fang conceded.  “Perhaps she should stick with the spiked wine.”

Kadidia considered for a minute, then looked thoughtfully at Channah, her lips curved upwards in amusement:  “You want to keep your wives and your bed sweet, don’t you?”

 “Perhaps 3 nights out of 4,” Channah allowed.  “And rough the other one.”  The demons roared with laughter.  “But…” Channah’s eyes narrowed.  “I expect they’ll need to be sweet with their clients more often than that.  But never dull,” she emphasized.  “Never dull in my bed or with their clients.  I have whorehouses full of those.”

“The Germans have been experimenting with all manner of tinctures.”

“Alchemists?”

“Some of them, yes; others, physicians.  A Swiss one, Theophrastus von Hohenheim,” she laughed “with a choleric temperament that continually gets him into trouble has invented a number of laughably toxic and other dangerous concoctions, including one called laudanum.  But his ‘laudanum’ does contain one ancient and proven medicine, a most agreeable tincture of the poppy, which I like to blend with the tincture of Má.”  She set a small bottle on the table filled with a dirty dark-brown liquid.  “It can be diluted in wine or simply mixed with honey or blackstrap molasses.  Although Boubacar’s training is so far advanced, he will eat the tincture by itself!” Kadidia laughed, not quite pleasantly.  “Make her suck on this until it’s empty.  You’ll see.”

And when Esmeray nodded, Kadidia rolled it into Penny’s mouth, as Esmeray raised her hand, lowering it back down and then jiggling it in Penny’s mouth as she looked down at her, drinking up her affront and submission like a drug. “You heard grandmother.  Suck on it for mommy.  I said—” and then, seeing Penny comply, she looked back up at the table, well pleased with herself.

Stake 5—Conspiracy of Silence

“Yes,” Miriam agreed, “It is good to silence a slave.  To that end, for the benefit of and on behalf of the Lodge, I propose as stakes for the game that anyone who raises a point of order that a majority of the Lodge overrules has to spend the rest of the game as a—”

“Except dealing!” Channah interjected.

“The rest of the game except dealing, as naked furniture of choice for the starter team.”

It was seconded and done as quickly as it was proposed, Esmeray both agreeing and ensuring with a glance that Chas remained quiet and with her hand that Penance did.  Although her eyes blazed with the injustice and unreasonableness of what was happening, Penny just clung to Esmeray’s arm, tears stinging her eyes.

Stake 6—Opposing Forces

Judas grinned evilly.

Simply to keep the game interesting…”

“Oh, we must keep it interesting,” Channah agreed.

“On behalf of the Lodge, I propose as stakes for the trick that any team, including, ah—let’s see—Aristotle and Ms. Glower over there!” And he snapped his finger with his arm pointing toward Penny and Esmeray.

“Meoto,” Rivqah prompted, proposing one of Penny’s nicknames—chatterbox, which in Japanese also implied effeminacy.

“Yes! Meoto’s team!  Any team with a member moving their flesh against Meoto’s clitoris and  purse before the first card is played in each trick, may switch turn-order with anyone else for that trick.”

This proposal actually prompted a second of silence before people started responding.  There were two “seconds,” but Miriam began hesitantly:  “That… sounds like….”  Then she shook her head.  “Never mind.” 

“It’s not a rule modification!”  Judas insisted, knowing what she had been considering asking. 
“Each party to the transaction is just agreeing they will switch their own place if they lose the bet, and since it’s a proposed rule for the lodge, everyone will have made the same agreement!”

“Plausible….”  “I like it!” “Oh, come now, how can we resist?”  The demons offered a variety of thoughts that fell somewhere between excuses and true agreements.

“Second, but only with the clarification that your flesh must be moving against hers at all times you’re touching,” Fang suggested, resting her hand familiarly—almost possessively—on Penny’s still bare lower belly, demonstrating by pushing and stroking her skin in a teasing game of proximity to Penny’s sex as she glanced at her victim and winked, before turning her attention back to the table, her hand lazily circling Penny’s belly and thighs and hips, as Penny froze like a deer in a bulls’-eye lantern, hardly breathing.  “I don’t want any teams camping out on her flesh without taking a risk…”

Channah looked torn, but finally shrugged with the grudging suggestion of a smile.  “Fine.  It’s clever, Miss Fang.  A delightful opposition of forces.”

Fang looked down at her victim and observed:  “It may not be that much of a risk…. Your girl doesn’t seem to be much of an exhibitionist.”

“We’re working on her,” Rivqah offered spiritedly.

“Then your amendment—or ‘clarification’—is accepted and the stakes, so modified, offered again,” Judas announced, having it seconded and approved as quickly as in the previous round.  “That’s what they call a ‘cum bet’ in Hazard.”

“And I supposed,” Fang drawled, “we’d call this little twig here a ‘cum bar’?”

“Precisely!”

Penny, in the arms of two different women, and yet in a counterpoise of her own, managed to look miserable and defiant all at once.

“Any other stakes?” Channah asked.

“Next round, certainly!”

“Then let’s play!

RULES OF THE CARD GAME THE CHARACTERS ARE PLAYING AVAILABLE HERE. [INSERT LINK]

RM: https://theremainderman.com/stories/07-38a-mans-ruin-succubaean-rules-for-playing-perdition/

DA:  https://www.deviantart.com/theremainderman-com/art/07-38A-Man-s-Ruin-Succubaean-Perdition-Rules-1239280264

Literature Section “07-38C Just Some Bad Dirty Fun:  Packing and Jacking”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 38 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—4417 words—Accompanying Images:  2200-2201, 2237-2240—Published 2025-09-18—©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.

Explicit version containing sodomy, analpenetration, chastity, prostatestimulation, creampie, cleanup, orgasm, triplepenetration, and orgy themes at 07-36X Honeymoon Hivemind Clusterfuck at Patreon.com/TheRemainderman

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah’s best friends, concerned about their liege lady’s well-being and the rumors beginning to circulate in hell, decide to crash her honeymoon with Penance and Chastity, bringing her First Husband, the Dragon King, and two other prize pieces of beefcake along for Channah to ride, while forcing her two brides to help cook breakfast for and serve the lovers; before her First Husband dressed down her Secondary Wives for marrying Channah without his consent.  NOW:

Rivqah had noticed George’s giant appendage beginning to stir at the sight of Húanglóng spanking Chastity and she leaned over, beginning to stroke him and whispering in his ear:  “You like seeing girls get spanked, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he admitted, pinkening with embarrassment, but hardly able to deny the physical evidence unrolling in front of him.  “I—I like seeing anybody get spanked, but—but especially gurls, I think.  T-girls.”

“I think it’s time for our Queen’s big moment,” Miriam suggested to Rivqah.  “And since you’re stealing my stud—”

“Hey!  Fair’s fair!”  They both laughed, as Miriam stood, walked around George and Rivqah, and knelt in front of Jacob, looking up in his eyes as she began tickling him, enjoying the way his breath caught and the sly smile that started forming on his lips despite his best efforts to remain moody and resentful.  “Don’t be such a pill!” she whispered to him good-naturedly.  “You’re about to fuck the Queen.  We all know you’re a smart and clever boy, but hello!  The succubae, on the whole, are smart and clever, so our cambions are too!  D’uh!  Don’t be pissy about the fact your ticket to ride comes from down—here—” she kissed him “Just be glad you were invited at all.  You’ve impressed the Queen, as well as us!”  And she dove down.

Jacob groused:  “Don’t you think she likes it better, knowing how much it pisses me off?!”  Miriam popped him out of her mouth, making a mock-surprised face at Rivqah, who tried to stifle her own laugh in return.  Still looking at Rivqah, Miriam hissed:  “I think we all prefer that, now that you mention it.”

I certainly do,” Rivqah answered.  “And just did, in fact.  Petulant little brat!  So let the wittle baby be all steamy and mad so Channah can really enjoy him!”

The conflicting expressions on Jacob’s face, of vindication and rage to have confirmed his suspicions were correct, were priceless.  But fortunately for their plans, he didn’t seem to be any better than Penny and Chastity at reining in his passions today.

While continuing to spank Chastity, who cried and wailed and twisted but couldn’t budge Húanglóng’s powerful hold a single inch, Húanglóng continued addressing all three of his wives, lead wife and secondary wives alike.  “Chastity is a girl.  She knows she’s a girl, she accepts she’s a girl, and yes, having been born a male, it’s perfectly understandable the shame she feels.  Of course she’s ashamed!  She was meant to be a man!  Anyone born a male with even an ounce of pride would do everything in their power to fulfill their destiny as a man.  But she’s given all that up and defied God’s laws and plans just so she can pursue her weak, greedy, selfish little cherished fantasy.  She is a rightly-ashamed little girl.  Now get back down in your place and thank me for spanking you and accepting you for what little you are!”

As Chastity scrambled to obey, holding her blistered bottom and whining fussily, hissing when she tried to lie down on her back and felt the pain from her freshly-abused bottom, Húanglóng snapped his fingers to summon his other ceshi:  “Penance Batonnoir!  Come here this instant!”  At the same time, Channah was motioning for Esmeray to come over to her, even as she began pouring wine on her husband’s left foot so it dribbled into Chastity’s mouth as she waited for Esmeray to pick her way across the room.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Daddy, please—” Penny whimpered, unable to cover her bottom with her bound hands but trying her best to keep it away from Húanglóng.

“Don’t you dare sass me, girl.  Get over here!” Húanglóng seized her arm and threw her over Húanglóng’s right knee, using his right hand and left leg to lock her in place the same way she had held Chastity over her other knee a few moments ago. 

“No, Daddy, please!” Penance whined, her attempt at resistance as satisfying as it was ineffective.  When Húanglóng’s powerful right hand pushed her head down she knew she was his and fell limp, crying and waiting for his inevitable discipline, which promptly began, the lord’s left hand rising and falling with every bit of the speed and force he had used on her sister. 

Penny immediately started bawling, which Húanglóng calmly put a stop to by pausing his spanking just long enough so Penny quieted down enough to hear Húanglóng explain:  “I’m going to keep spanking you until I’ve finished lecturing you.  If you’re making too much noise to listen, I’m simply going to keep spanking you without even starting my lecture, until you hush your mouth.  So, it’s up to you.  If you want your spanking to continue all day long, missy, you keep bawling.”  And with that, Húanglóng resumed, spanking systematically, hard, and rapidly as Penny tried desperately to stifle her cries, wiggling and kicking over Húanglóng’s knee and doing her best to keep quiet long enough for Húanglóng to finish lecturing her.

“I can’t remember ever dealing with a bigger baby in my life,” Húanglóng began, shaking his head disapprovingly.  “It’s like you almost want to be beaten!  Has no one ever explained to you that nothing makes a demon want to hit you more, than knowing you’re weak and vulnerable and suffering?”

“Oh, I’ve told him,” Rivqah promised.

“As have I,” Miriam added.

“And I,” Channah laughed.  “But she’s hard-headed.  And ‘sensitive.’”  Everyone laughed, as Channah handed off the bottle of double-spiked wine to Esmeray and made her way to where Miriam was fluffing Jacob.  “Is it showtime?!” she asked her friend excitedly.

And Rivqah, without taking her eyes off George’s snake, which was slowly stretching and hardening under the attention of her fingers, answered:  “Yes it is, my liege!  The scarlet cushion is prepared for you.  We tried to anticipate everything….”

“Oh, thank you dear, that’s so thoughtful,” Channah paused, stroking Miriam’s hair appreciatively.  “Taking such special care of my boy.  If you need one, we can bring over a sissy to finish the fluffing?”

Miriam observed:  “Húanglóng is doing so well with them, I hesitate to interfere.  And I don’t mind, Jacob’s delicious.”  And she resumed working on Jacob while Channah, plucking a jar of lube from a tabletop, turned around and backed up, straddling Miriam, her thighs touching her handmaid’s shoulders, thrusting her bottom back until it was a few inches above Miriam’s neck—and therefore, right in Jacob’s face—and the top half of her body was bending forward, resting one hand on Miriam’s backside.  “Get me ready for you, Jacob?” she pouted, holding the jar behind her and making appreciative noises as Jacob, chuckling, warmed the oil in his hands before rubbing it on Channah’s bottom.

Meanwhile, Húanglóng continued spanking and lecturing helpless, panting, trying-her-hardest-not-to-cry Penance:  “I’m very upset with you, young lady!”

“I—I—I’m sorr—rree—Daddy!” she wailed, biting her lip to quiet down again instead of crying.

“For what?”

“I don’t know—whatever I did to upset you, Daddy!  I want to please you so much!”

“That’s good, but apologizing for nothing, accomplishes nothing.  I—want—you—to—listen!”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry!”

“Chastity is ashamed because she could have been a man, but she wanted—wants!—to be a weak woman instead.  But you said you wanted to be a man!”

“I do, Daddy, I do, but I know I’m not!”

Obviously not!  And what did your Domina tell you?”

“I don’t kn—lots of things, Master!  I mean Daddy!”

“What did she tell you about whether you were a man or a girl?”

“She told me I was a girl before I even knew it,” Penance whined, sobbing silently as the blows kept falling, using her shackled hands for the only thing she could use them for, pressing them into her mouth when she wasn’t talking to muffle her whimpering, so hopefully she wouldn’t upset her Daddy even more. 

“And you want to be a man—as if you could!  You’re lying over a bull’s lap locked up in chastity and being spanked while your wife gets ready for real men.  Hello!  Does that make you a man?”

“No, Sir, no Daddy!”

“What does it make you?”

“A sissy cuck, Sir,” Penny confessed miserably.

“You want to be something you’re not—a man!”  Húanglóng’s laugh spoke volumes, and practically wilted Penance right in front of her eyes.  “In defiance of your Domina!”

“No, Master—Sir—Daddy!  I mean Daddy!  I swear I would never defy my Domina!  I love my Domina!”

“Liar!” Húanglóng growled, shaking his head.  “You’re just digging yourself a deeper hole, young lady.”

“I swear! I swear!” Penny screeched desperately.  “I’m telling you the truth!”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, oh yes, I promise of course ofcourseI’mtellingyouthetruthsir!”

“If you’re telling me the truth, I’ll let you up this instant.  But if I can prove you’re lying, it will go very badly for you!”

“I’m telling the truth!  I promise!  I swear!”

“We’ll see.  Did your Domina tell you you’re a girl?”

“Yes sir!  Yes she did, Daddy! Oww ow oww…”

“And have you accepted what your Domina has decided for you?  Or are you defying your Domina, and indeed your very—obvious—nature by hoping and fantasizing you’re a man?”

“I—oh—oh no,” Penny moaned, understanding Húanglóng’s point.

“Answer me!”

“I’m—yes!  I’m sorry!  I am defying my Domina, Daddy!  Daddy, I didn’t I didn’t—iiieeee!”  She squealed and twisted as Húanglóng, feeling it was time to make her pay for her defiance, picked up a belt from the bed beside him and began applying it to Penance’s ass, its steady crack exciting the succubae in the room as much as it sent Penny to the bare edge, almost suffocating herself to try and remain quiet until Húanglóng was finished with what he needed to say.

“You better be quiet, sissy!  You’ve already lied to me and defied your Domina!  Do you want to get in even more trouble?”

“No, I’m sorry, Sir!  I’m sorry!” and she twisted her body just enough so she could push her face into the crack between Húanglóng’s hip and the bedsheet to muffle her own cries more effectively than she could do with her hands alone.

“So to recap:  Have you defied your Domina?”

“Yes Master—ow!” she began.

“And have you lied to me?”

“Yes Daddy I’m so sorry for being a bad boy—I didn’t mean to, I promise!”

Another promise?  Really?  So soon after your previous false promise has been exposed?”

“Yes Dadd—I mean no, Daddy!!  Ow!”

“Then let’s try my question again, and this time, just answer me as you’ve been instructed to!”

“Yes Sir, Daddy sir!”

“Have you lied to me?!”

“Yes, Daddy!”

“And did you defy me?!”

“No Daddy nev—I—I don’t know Daddy, I’m sorry, I—I don’t know!”

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?!”

“I mean—I mean—I can’t think of any—I can’t think of how I’d defy you, but I’m afraid I did something accidentally without realize—”

“Did you tell your Domina and me, just now, that you want to have sex with women, not men?”

“Yes, Daddy!  I remember that Daddy!” she said gratefully, nodding frantically.  “Yes, I said that Daddy!”

After I, a man, warned you I planned to use you for sex?!”

“What?! Oh—oh I see, I’m so sorry!  I did that too, Master!  I’m bad.  I’m stupid.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorrreee!” she wailed before forcing her mouth and nostrils down into the crack between her spanker’s leg and the bedspread to silence herself again.

“Yes!  You!  ARE!  I! Expect! You! To! Do! Better!”

“Yes, Daddy!”

“You’d better!”

“I will!  I promise I will!” Penny squealed and then started bawling.  “I can’t—I can’t stop crying!  It hurts too much, Daddy!  Daddy, my bottom hurts!  I’m sorry for crying, I know I’m a crybaby—”

“Lilith and Cain!”  Húanglóng rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “You need to stop crying and start apologizing.  Get on your knees in front of me.  Right!  This! Instant!”

“Yessir, Yesdaddy!”  Penny dropped like a sack of potatoes from her position over Húanglóng’s knee to her knees between Húanglóng’s feet, still sobbing, now facing Húanglóng and immediately moueing at what she saw.  At what filled her vision.

“Chastity!  Get up here, right next to your sister!”

“Yes, Daddy!” Chas yelped, moving with alacrity to push to her knees, and then squiggle in tight against Penny, the two of them tightly crammed together to fit between Húanglóng’s knees.  Húanglóng took their heads and pushed them together, cheek to cheek.  “If the crybaby can shut her mouth for one instant!” (she could, sounding like a greased pig dropped into a sloped sewer pipe) “you can hear the adults are getting ready to play again.  Can’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy!” the girls nodded frantically, in no doubt as to what they were hearing:  Channah moaning with pleasure; Jacob grunting with satisfaction; George gasping and writhing.

“You two have frustrated me and forced me to focus on punishing you, instead of celebrating with my principal wife!  That’s inexcusable and now you need to make it up to me—and her—by getting me caught up.  Tell me the truth:  Do you two sissies want to please me?”

“Oh, YES Daddy!” They both gushed, nodding wildly.

“I want to please you so so so bad, Daddy!” Penny gushed.

“Me too!  Even more!’  Please let me please—please give me a chance to show it!” Chastity interjected.

“Do you know what my name means?  ‘Húanglóng’?”

“No Daddy,” they shook their heads, staring at the long yellow serpentine dangling in front of them.

“Yellow.  Dragon,” he whispered, softly, dramatically, and without hesitation, causing the girls to gasp, understanding.  He could see they Understood.  “And I truly am that.  Now, each of you put one arm around the other, and use your other arm to hold onto my leg, so you can fit between my powerful thighs better and be reminded what sissies you are.  Your task is to charm the Yellow Dragon.  To want to do i—”

But Húanglóng didn’t even have to finish his sentence.  He chuckled.  “That’s the way, girls.  Forget all those silly ideas about being men… and wanting women… accept who you are.  And be ashamed.  Because that’s—even—fucking—hotter! Than actually embracing your own identity.  Keep being ashamed, and helplessly attracted by your own natures, all at the same time!  Your Domina taught me, long long ago, to recognize that is the sweetest of all pleasures, hotter than anything:  a human who hates what they love, doesn’t like who they are, and can’t help it even a little bit!  Hate yourselves you fucking sluts.  Hell knows, you should!  You’re pathetic!…  I know you’ve never even seen, let alone handled, a real man’s equipment, like this, before.  So let me teach you how to do it. Using your hands, and your mouths, all at once.  I know, I know, your own underdeveloped bodies barely have enough room for your index finger and thumb.”  He guffawed cruelly.  “That’s part of why they’re locked up, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” the two girls agreed, their eagerness to please him dimming their awareness of how badly they were being humiliated, as they crammed together against one another, tight between Húanglóng’s bulging steel-cable thighs, and the next moment, feeling the weight of Húanglóng’s legs on their shoulders as he settled back, sighing with pleasure as they served him and acted as his footstools.   They worked smoothly together, so crammed in by warm flesh on all sides they began to sweat as they strove assiduously to please their master, whose own needs and priorities were quickly becoming theirs.

On the other side of the large iceberg of divans in the corner, Channah climbed onto them and crawled forward to the scarlet mattress in the very middle of the large array of tightly-packed cushions, leering at Jacob and pointing straight down.  “Here.  Bottom… here, facing the room.  Head towards the corner.  Do it, Jacob, come on, baby.”

“My hand—”

“I need a cuck, Daddy!” Channah called out in a sing-song voice, provoking a snort of laughter. 

“Fine.  Which one’s the more difficult again?  For others, I mean.  They both seem like putty to me.”

“I can see that,” she admitted wryly.  “They both have issues.  But Penny’s our problem child.”

“Chastity, go attend to your Domina.”

“Oh, but Daddy, don’t you need—”

“I need you to obey!  So I can help Penny understand who—and what—she is.  Go!”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry, Daddy!” Chastity, chastened, agreed and scampered onto the bed, crawling until she reached Jacob’s hand, which Channah was pointing to.  “Yes, Domina?”

“Clean it!” she commanded, impressed once again by Húanglóng’s uncanny power to motivate humans, as Chastity went to work, only her expression and her attenuated breathing, betraying the difficulty she had with the task she had been assigned.  Yet, the enthusiasm with which she acted despite her obvious struggle, revealed how much Húanglóng had already begun to colonize her brain and penetrate her skull. 

While Chastity cleaned Jacob, Channah guided Jacob, showing him where she wanted him to lie down on his back, with his head over a gap between two mattresses.  “but the hole—why—?” Jacob began, which she quieted by placing one finger on his lips and another on his crotch before running her mouth over Jacob’s torso, smelling and kissing him all over, distracting him while she fished out the shackle she had suspected she might find near his right wrist,  Then, still moving sensuously, she climbed over him, straddling his waist and teasing him ever-so-lightly with her most-sweet and vile medlar, putting her lips against his ear and whispering as she mock-rode him, all the time fishing out the other shackle:  “Unless you’re actually a masochist, you should learn from my two pathetic cucks and check your attitude.  As a cambion, you should know better than to show me how I can hurt you by enjoying you.”  And with a giggle and a sneer, she clicked the two shackles closed on his wrists simultaneously.  “You’ve gone straight to the top of my party-invite list.  Bitch!  Now be a good little mattress boy for all of us.  It’s unfair, but…” she shrugged and straightened up, meeting his eyes as she gagged him, tying the gag in turn to the edge of the divan so his head was trapped at an angle below the plane of the cushions, enjoying his wounded outrage, drinking it up like honey.  She giggled.  “I fucking love it.  The only revenge you’re going to get is being rough with me, halfling.  So do your worst—or, I hope, your best, with the one weapon I’m leaving you.”

And with that, reversed her position, facing away from him, crawling forward so her knees were almost to his, and guiding him, groaning, moving her hips to and fro to work him deeper while she leaned forward, shackling one leg while she held the other down, correctly anticipating he would try to move it as soon as he felt what she was doing to his other leg, pinning it under her elbow until his other ankle was secured and she could bring both hands to bear on it, giggling and enjoying the frantic way he wormed and wiggled and flailed about.  “Oh baby, you move so well.  Oh, seven hells you’re so excited!  I think you are a masochist, my sweet little pouter.  A masochist cambion.  From now on, it’s gonna suck to be you and I’m going to make you thank me!  Oh!  Aaaah yessss!  Oh, yeah.  You’re going nowhere until we’re done with our mattress-boy!”  She sighed, as she settled back onto him, pushing a small pillow into the gap between his neck and the back of her head—a pillow just thick enough so that part of her, at least, would be more comfortable and she could focus on the discomforts she wanted; but thin enough that she would still be able to tip her chin back to accommodate her next lover, if not quite as far back as poor, wretched Jacob.  “Oh, yes, this is nice!  Rivqah, dear?”

“I’m here!”  Miriam chimed in, wrapping Chastity’s long blonde hair around her hand.  “Come on, Chastity dear, let’s get you cleaned up!”  Looking confused, but wanting to oblige, she let Miriam guide her to the bowl of spirits, mint, and water on the ground.  After admonishing her to wash her lips and mouth out, Miriam pushed her face right down into the bowl.  While she held Chastity under the surface, she got Esmeray’s attention and pointed to the bowl.  Nodding, Esmeray tore herself away from an almost obsessive, sickened fascination with Jacob’s assault on Channah—or was it Channah’s assault on Jacob?—and headed toward Miriam.

“Where’s Big George?  And more to the point, where’s Little Big George?”  Channah was demanding, delighted as he turned and crawled over the array of divans toward her, obeying her instructions and positioning himself above her head, his knees on either side of the gap in the cushions.  “Stop dawdling, hubby, this is no time for you to go gay on me.  I need my Long Hwang,” she snorted to her husband.  “Or I’ll find someone else to finish my trio!” she threatened, before imitating a snake trying to digest a mongoose.  She did manage to elicit an amazed groan from George that could not have failed to get Húanglóng’s attention, even if he had been able to ignore his wife.  (Which, in truth, he had never been able to do, a fact that had helped to, and continued to, shape the history of the Seven Hells in now-predictable and stabilizing ways.  No one else could see it, but Húanglóng himself, the great and charismatic persuader, knew he was not quite the most-persuasive demon in hell, even if the gifts he did have, came more easily to him than to others.

“I wouldn’t miss this—or you—for the world or hell below it, my love,” he assured her sincerely enough, manhandling Penny with her hair as he lumbered to his knees on the bed and approached her, pulling Penny along beside him, forcing her to try to keep up.  “Now the question is—where do you want to feel your little cucks’ mouths?”

With a derisive snort, but without slipping off Big George, she shook her head sharply.

“Not at all?” He asked, a little surprised.  “I guess if they couldn’t satisfy you on their own, they don’t have much to contribute to our orgy.  I’m going to have them hold your ankles and worship your feet,” he proposed, pleased to see her quick nod of agreement and shiver of anticipation.  “I know what my baby doll likes.  Get over there, cuck!  Hold it up above her hips and waist so there’s plenty of room for me!” he jerked Penny’s head towards Channah’s left foot, all of them pleased to see how eagerly the auburn-haired girl scurried to her assigned station, even as Chastity was released by Miriam to service her right foot.  “That will free my hands to…” and as the Yellow Dragon slithered, he demonstrated, placing one thumb close above his own flesh and the other on her wrist, gently drawing her hand to his mouth to kiss her palm sweetly, releasing her hand and moving his own hand toward her right breast.  “Big George!  My boy!” He growled around his kisses.  “If you hadn’t put it together yet, this experience is all about extreme stimulation for our goddess.  It’s impossible to overwhelm a succubus, but conversely, it’s almost impossible to make them feel fully stimulated.  It’s the one challenge I—I never seem to grow weary of attempting, no matter how many centuries roll slowly past.  So don’t be lazy!  Attend to your Queen!”

“Yes, m’Lord, of course—but—ungh—how else?”

“You have two hands and a mouth, son.  Use them!  She still has one neglected nipple and along with her feet and her erogenous zones, she likes to have her hands kissed and stroked!  So attend to her other one!”

Below them, between them, cocooned within them all, Channah shuddered with the rare intensity of what she was experiencing, as Miriam and Rivqah exchanged a look that was at once pleased—for their Mistress—and envious. 

“Tiferet, dear,” Rivqah sighed.  “I don’t know how you can stand your work!  Always seeing, being exposed to… possibilities, without getting to play.”

“Don’t pity me, Your Grace,” she scoffed at the thought.  “I’ve learned to enjoy the anticipation.  And I’ve learned a lot… so many ideas to practice with my own lovers and thralls….”

“Well, I don’t have your patience,” Rivqah shook her head sadly.  “I want a way to play right now, but our Mistress—happily—is enjoying every unlocked toy in the room, and even the complete focus of the ones who are locked!”

“Well, as an observer,” Tiferet mused drolly, “I count at least one, two, three, and four accessible holes….”

Rivqah and Miriam exchanged a quick, almost embarrassed look.  “We hadn’t thought of that…. even more than other succubae, Her Majesty likes to play as a female,” Miriam admitted.

“And it is definitely the best way to play,” Rivqah agreed.

“But when in Rome…”

Rivqah snorted.  “I’m not sure that’s actually an apt analogy my dear, but I take your point.”  Crawling up behind Húanglóng, she pressed herself against his broad, powerful, chubby back and moaned:  “Your Majessssttttyyyy… could we—could I—play with you, too?  It’s been soooo loooong since you’ve touched me, and I’ve never—”

Húanglóng grunted.  “As tempting as you are my dear, that must be for another time.  This is a gift for my wife, and the way she’s reacting…” he shivered.  “I’m completely focused on her and wouldn’t want it any other way.  Not just at this second.  Go fuck a cuck, but if and only if you can do so without distracting them from their proper attentions.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Majesty,” she answered.  Slumping in half-real, half-mock disappointment, Rivqah pouted to Miriam and Tiferet, who tried without success to keep from sniggering.  “Well, I at least want to try someone new!” she cried, pouncing on Chastity.

“No fair!  We’ve both had Penny before!  She’s used,” Miriam sulked, continuing Rivqah’s game.

Húanglóng roared with laughter.  “Cucks are made to be used.  If you’re suggesting my wife hasn’t used the other one yet, she doesn’t just need us, she needs a doctor!”  Even Channah couldn’t help laughing at that, it coming out as a gagging, half-drowning sound that caused George to shiver in surprise.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Miriam whined.  “I’ll take the copperhead.  Again.”  Dipping her fingers in the jar of olive oil, she passed it to Rivqah, who in turn took a share and passed it back to Esmeray as the two succubae took advantage of their Queen’s two housegifts.  “Remember, little tightass,” Miriam murmured into Penny’s ear, enjoying every part of intimacy, “try to loosen your body to match your mouth,” feeling the girl shudder as she entered her, reaching around front of her to hold her tight and taking a surprised breath, remembering how much she had changed since the last time she had hands on the girl.  “I forgot… you have big soft beautiful boobies now!  You ARE kind-of-like new!” she gushed enthusiastically.  “That’s the way, little girl.  Keep it firmly in your mind to be a Pleaser not a Princess today.  Please me, and at the same time, don’t you dare break your concentration on my Mistress because if I have to pull out and sit this scene out, I’m going to beat you like a rented mule the rest of the day!”

“And that goes double for you, bimbo!” Rivqah cried, slapping Chastity’s hips and then her breasts, hard, for emphasis, before snuggling up to her in unconscious imitation of Miriam, spooning their kneeling lover girls and cradling them up front even as they pierced them behind.

Penny felt strangely calm:  Calmer than she had ever felt before in her life, with a sense of peace and a sense of purpose that dovetailed perfectly. 

The Dragon King’s secret power was ultimately his reasonableness, Penny reflected.  Like Channah, he had shown himself to be smarter and more knowledgeable than Penny.  For a girl like her, who viewed and understood the world through her sense of reason—a smart girl of reason, whose reason usually concluded, with ironclad evidence, that she understood things better than the impulsive, emotional, superstitious fools around her—it was unsettling to confront a greater intelligence, like being punched in the solar plexus and winded, suddenly deprived of the thing she normally took for granted to such an extent, the notion of being without it was shocking and alarming.

Even Penny, as close as she knelt to the Dragon King even now, their knees braced against one another, skin to skin; their arms brushing one another as Penny delicately and lovingly cradled her goddess’s foot, musing on how blessed she felt to be the caretaker of such a sacred and precious part of her Domina.  A part, she admitted to herself with a flash of embarrassment, that was one of her very favorite parts.  Which, in turn, she blushed thinking how weird that sounded.  Or, if she was more honest, that it actually was a little weird…. No! She didn’t fucking care, she thought daringly.  If other people looked down on her, didn’t she already look down on herself?  So what if others confirmed it?  Was this not where she wanted to be?  Didn’t it feel right, like she was exactly where she deserved (and wanted) to be?  The smell of her goddess was so subtle here, so intimate, as soft as the pads on her toes and the balls of her feet and her heels… and warm.  Her Domina was so warm and alive and beautiful and—had she lost her train of thought?  She shook her head infinitesimally and remembered:  The Dragon. 

The Dragon King.  He was doing… something to her.  Her reason told her this; and the laughing succubae around them had implied as much.  But whatever he was doing… Penny knew he wasn’t incorrect:  wanting to be a man… wishing she could possibly someday manage to be any bit of a man… if she really imagined it was possible, that would make it a rebellion, and she was lucky the Dragon King hadn’t punished her as harshly as rebellion deserved!  Truly the Dragon King was merciful and… almost obliging in a roundabout way.  Nice, she decided.  A kind and tolerant man, who showed even Penny a kind of respect everyone around her in her life had made it clear to her she didn’t deserve.  And she definitely didn’t want to rebel—not against him, certainly not against her Domina! 

Avoiding rebellion was something she could only claim as a success and a credit to her if she knew and accepted she could never be a man, if she knew, in fact, she was a girl. But giving up forever—wasn’t that just as damning to her as allowing the demons to sodomize and debauch her in the first place?  Only if she could accept that the weakness and the failure were hers and hers alone, and therefore confirm that her Domina’s desire for her to be the girl she was meant to be was true to her and for her, could she show her true commitment and devotion to her Domina.  And the thing was… she believed her Domina, in that and really almost everything.  Definitely everything that mattered.  Penny knew in her heart she could not be the man she wanted to be, or even a boy.  Unlike Chastity, who knew she was a girl because of her own desire to be one, Penny knew she was a girl because she was utterly incapable of being a man—she lacked the cock, the balls, the stamina, the strength, the feral nature, even the urges and desires of a man, responding only when she was treated and pleasured like a woman. 

And the truth of the matter, she knew, was that she wanted to honor and obey and comply with her Domina’s commands, to live according to her Domina’s rule; even if she could have been a man… would she have dared, or wanted, to pursue her own desires rather than her Domina’s?  Her amazing Domina had decided she ought to be a girl; shouldn’t that be enough?  She was caged and allowed only to worship her Domina’s foot because that was what gave her Domina pleasure.  Penny’s true pleasure came from serving hers.  She knew, because she couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere other than where she was now, helping her goddess, serving her goddess, worshipping her goddess in the only, tiny, tertiary way she was capable, given her physical and mental disabilities and limitations. 

As wrong as she knew her love was for a demoness, it was there; and it was love, and God was love.  And there could be no doubt her demoness was in some way, indeed in most ways, everything but religion, more and greater than Penny herself—more important, more significant, longer-lived, outsized in influence, more powerful… and, God in Heaven forgive her, her goddess knew her, intimately and directly and more deeply, so much so it was hard to tell where one of them ended and the other one began sometimes.  To be allowed so close to her, given so much of her attention… Penny’s shoulders slumped as it all came together for her, partly in defeat, but mainly in the calm and restful acceptance that she was meant to yield to her amazing goddess.  To stroke her sensuous soles, to suck on her big round soft toes, to press her fingertips and thumbtips into the pudgy, delicate, perfectly-shaped ball and heel of her foot… to know that her goddess was feeling and experiencing her servant’s touch, even when it was just a tiny part of what she felt, a tiny fraction of the significance of her other lovers, her real lovers….  Penny was simply not her Domina’s equal, and therefore could not possibly be her ‘lover’; it would be like an ant proposing partnership with a whale.  Or an aardvark, a part of her whispered.  But no matter what analogy one might fashion, she could never be the kind of equal her goddess needed.  She could only, at best, be a pet:  a domesticated animal kept by her goddess and allowed to provide her with some narrow part of what she needed.  Attending to her feet, goddess, what an honor…. Fetching her slippers, perhaps, if Penny were her actual dog…

Whatever the Dragon King was doing to Penny today, at this very instant, Penny realized, it was supportive.  Because normally, when Penny hit one of those rare moments where she had to ask if her reason and wit and perception were wrong, it inspired panic and fear.  The Dragon King had peeled back the scales from her eyes, and done it so gently, holding Penny tenderly in his hands… or, Penny blushed at the thought, in his gorgeous feet—yes, why not? She thought defiantly to herself… it was more accurate, anyway!  Clearly she had a little thing for his feet, too….

But however embarrassing that was, or unmanly, or should be—none of it mattered at all.  She tried to let go of all the aspirations and anxieties and failures, the focus on thing she was not and could not be, in favor of focusing on the thing she actually was, and could be, and even, could do really well, probably a lot better than someone like Roger who lacked the reverence Penny felt for her goddess Channah…..  So Penny breathed peacefully, worshiped genuinely, and obeyed rightly, putting everything above her station out of mind.  Even the Bible exhorted believers to help and to serve others; and the Dragon King, like the Succubus Queen before him, had shown Penance a new level of service, a new height in her genuine and real urge to help and to serve and to care for others.  She could easily imagine a life of service to her Domina and her First Husband, how fulfilling it would be, and how grateful it would make her feel, and that was all she imagined as she inhaled and kissed her Domina’s feet with even deeper passion and connection than before.

Miriam’s insistence behind her, entering her, taking her, holding her so tightly, touching her sensitive breasts… her transformation into a girl had awakened in her feelings and desires that were not so different from those she had experienced as a boy, but instead added to them, even multiplied them.  How could she object to a transformation that made more of her body into a playground and a means of deep connection to others?  Miriam’s fingertips, rolling Penny’s nipples while her palms hugged Penance’s breasts… before today, before now, she couldn’t even have imagined how good it would feel to be loved in your root and in your heart and even in your head—where Miriam’s kisses, on the back of Penny’s neck, were giving her goosebumps—all at once! 

“You could never be a distraction, Mistress Miriam,” she heard herself moaning out loud.  “You just make me feel more loved by my Domina who I’m so lucky to be allowed to worship at all…”

“Aww… that’s sweet!” Miriam sounded surprised, but certainly pleased.

“I want you to sweet-talk me!” Rivqah pinched Chastity’s nipples on the other side of Channah.

“I’m sorry, Mistress Rivqah,” Chastity gasped around Channah’s right foot.  “I know I don’t have Penny’s sweet words, but I promise you—and our Domina—that I feel the same way.  I swear it!”

Rivqah’s face softened.  “Well, that is nice,” she conceded.

“And it’s true!” Chastity insisted.

“Of course we feel this way, Mistress Rivqah!” Penny moaned.  “You both are so smart and beautiful and passionate, and loyal to our Domina.  And our Domina…” Penny sighed.  “She—I just—there aren’t the words to say how amazing she is for us, how much we need her.  How connected we are to her—”

“Yes, Penny!” Chastity cried.

“Even though we’re just nothing—”

“We’re so grateful!” Chastity gushed

“Of course we are!  So in love….” Penance purred, rubbing her cheek on the outer edge of her Domina’s foot, then kissing it softly but deeply in the tender arch, feeling so close to Channah precisely because she knew how insignificant Penny was, and therefore how inclusive and secure her goddess’s love was and must be to have embraced her.  “And we are so grateful to the Dragon King for showing us how special our opportunity to serve our goddess, our Domina, and her First Husband, truly are.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty!” Chastity agreed, neither knowing nor caring if the Dragon King responded because she meant it so completely and her sense of connection and participation was so total.

Rivqah bit her lip, imperfectly preventing herself from laughing, a sound Penny heard echoed behind her.  Meeting her eyes, Rivqah explained:  “You girls are perfect for succubae, you’ve got it so bad….”

“I know,” Penance sighed blissfully.  “Of course Domina was right, we were made for her… made to serve her and her First Husband and Handmaids and—”

“Everyone in her Court,” Chastity agreed, finishing Penance’s thought.  “I feel—everything is perfect,” Chastity smiled beatifically, planting a sweet, gentle kiss on Channah’s pinkie toe, trying to communicate and to feel, with that one touch, all the love she felt.

“Everything except—” Penny started, and then stopped, her voice crestfallen.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so greedy.”

“I want to hear it,” Miriam suggested, nibbling on the back of Penny’s neck and making her shiver.  “Tell me… it’s okay.  Your love for your Domina is undoubted….”

“My penis,” she whispered.  “I mean—my clitty.  It hurts so bad and—and I want—”

“We’re so horny!” Chastity blurted out, finishing Penny’s thought.

All the demons laughed, even Channah, even George, who offered:  “I guess it does kind of suck to be you two.”

“You can’t make her laugh,” Rivqah laughed at George.  “Do you have any idea how hard it is to breathe when you’re doing what she’s doing?  It takes perfect timing!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” George apologized, genuinely.  “Should I—”

“You should shut up and stay in your rhythm so she can breathe and we can all hear more of this arousing talk from our two little philosophers here,” Rivqah suggested good-naturedly.  “And while I can only agree it would suck to be either of these losers, I feel compelled to point out:  it’s not our fault!  This is not our doing!  These girls’ existence sucked before we ever came along.”

“I know that now,” Penance sighed wistfully.  “I know that’s true.  I’m—the Dragon King has helped me see how, you know…”

“Worthless?”  Chastity suggested.

“Yes, worthless!” Penance agreed.  “That’s exactly it!  How nothing we were before she came into our lives and let us finally mean something, even if it’s a tiny something, by being part of her life!”

“Aw….” Rivqah agreed, sharing a devilish look with Miriam, even as the Dragon King shook with silent laughter of his own.

“I’m sorry,” Penny apologized, noticing.  “I didn’t mean to disrupt you, I know we should all be concentrating on our Domina—”

“We should, but the dirty talk coming out of your filthy, shame-ridden mouth is so hot you need to keep it up!”  Rivqah encouraged them.

“It’s true,” Miriam murmured around Penny’s ear, her breath hot and wet and ticklish even as the steady motion of her hips was like the ocean lulling Penny’s little boat to a peaceful sleep. 

“Actually,” Rivqah commanded, “hush now—it’s time!”  And at the exact same moment, Miriam and Húanglóng both gasped:  “She’s ready!”

Penny opened her mouth to ask what they meant but fell silent at Rivqah’s narrowed warning eyes, accepting her place and sinking back completely into her dream about Channah’s perfect feet, even as she felt the pressure on her female sex organ getting harder and more insistent, commanding her attention and somehow communicating to her exactly what the demons were talking about.  She realized all of the demons and half-demons around them, and therefore she and Chastity—rocked by their partners the same way their Domina was being rocked by her First Husband—were suddenly moving in synch with Him and with one another, their tempo and force both slowly gaining.  She could see it, the way Rivqah’s and even Húanglóng’s eyes started to lose their focus on the world around them to gaze upon whatever they saw inside themselves, or whatever shared vision bound them together in their uncannily coordinated experience.

For a moment Penny saw herself from outside, or felt she was outside, until she felt her body, which was connected to theirs, and snapped back fully into it.  Penny realized the demons were bringing her with them—or maybe that she and Chastity were keeping up with the demons—that all of them were together, united in a profound way, by purpose and feeling and thought and awareness, all at once, all feeling what they needed to feel to be brought together in this way, nearly as close as Penance felt to her Domina by touching and breathing her in.

“For you, my love,” Húanglóng pledged.

“For you, Older Sister!” Rivqah and Miriam promised.

“Your Grace!” George shouted.

“Oh, oh, all for you, Domina!” Penance and Chastity swore, their own voices sounding weak and effeminate and less-convincing even to themselves, but knowing they were adding to the best of their limited abilities.

And suddenly everyone was writhing and yelling and shivering and yowling and especially, cursing and swearing.  A single explosion was tearing all of them back apart into wiggling wet solitary things, thrown deeply back into themselves with the shared secret of what they had seen and been together.

For seconds or minutes that stretched to the horizon of time, they all shook and wept and cried, unwilling to be done and absolutely unwilling to let go of the sensations and spiritual electricity that had crackled through them all.

Penny was almost done when Miriam suddenly and unexpectedly pulled out of her and pulled her down onto her back, barking:  “Get close to your Domina!  Wiggle right up to her side, but facing in the opposite direction!”  She felt like it was unfair and unreasonable that her bliss had been interrupted until she understood the bigger picture, remembering that she was just a supporting player in this drama no matter how important it felt, or it made her feel.  And more to the point, remembering that this particular experience was for Her, Penny’s Domina; and so of course, since all of them were sharing the same timeline, Penny had to move into her next position before Penny was ready, so that her Domina could move when the time was exactly and precisely right.

“We’re going to lift her off Jacob and onto the cuck,” Húanglóng explained to George.  “Hold her shoulders 1… 2… 3!”  And they raised her and plopped her down onto Penny, her whole back and buttocks wet and intense and oppressive with her sweat, perhaps mingled with that of Jacob.  Chastity was pushed to kneel between her legs so the two girls were close enough together they could have kissed one another.  But their duty—to their Domina—was kind of obvious, even to them, even before Miriam and Rivqah spelled it out:

“Bring her down, girls.  Worship her and pleasure her gently, for as long as wants to rest.  Don’t make a mess and don’t stop, no matter what, until she tells you she’s done!”  No one had to spell out the details any further than they already had.  Both girls were simultaneously post-orgasmic and frustrated beyond reason, in the exquisitely tortured place that they already knew awaited them after the womanly orgasms that were all they had been permitted.  Their ruined prostate orgasms were at once a terrible promise and a terrible denial to their caged and ever-hopeful bodies, all at once.  But satisfied or not, they were unanchored and floating and electric with the confused, mixed energies that resulted.  They were both still outside themselves and not quite back to reality, as they began assiduously worshiping their goddess-Queen.  The Dragon King calmly rested his hand on the back of Chastity’s head, emphasizing that it was the Dragon King’s mess Chastity was expected to clean and the Dragon King’s bliss Chastity had the honor of soothing Channah from.  For Penny, it was being pressed between the soft divan and her Domina’s hot, wet, sticky body that communicated the truth to her, that whatever doubt there might be about whose sweat she felt and smelled on her Domina’s skin, there was none about whose seed was squeezing out of her Domina’s body:  that of Channah’s half-demon victim, who had been trapped beneath her just as Penny was now, as nameless and disregarded and secondary and put-upon as Penny herself.

“Such… good… girls…” Channah sighed softly, when she finally spoke, but still she didn’t stir, but lay, completely relaxed, her weight moderately compressing Penny’s lungs and breath in a way that would not let her forget she was trapped under and thus passively commanded by her Domina; even as the dripping mess she was soothing with her mouth would not let her forget what contempt and disregard she was held in and thought of by the demons.

And even with all this, even being so low, she felt so right.  Being reduced to nothing like this, a continuation and indeed the natural culmination of having been used and pushed lower and lower for the pleasure of her goddess….  The result, and therefore the treatment, were right because they fit.  All the world was as it ought to be when Penny was being degraded under her goddess.

Releasing her ego and accepting this lifted such a weight off Penny’s shoulders, the weight of a lifetime of lying to herself and not knowing who she was and refusing to face her true destiny was wiped away, allowing Penny’s spine to straighten and her body live.  Because her true destiny was right here after all, just like this, being shattered and reduced and lessened in exactly this way, to exactly this existence defined by her service to Channah.  “I feel so peaceful…” she sighed, freed like a bird by the novelty of being so honest and true to herself, a self she had not even understood before now.  “So good….”  And then, even as her Domina laughed softly at her, she confessed:  “This is exactly right.  Where and how I belong.  I belong to you, Domina!”

And they both knew she completely meant it.  Because they both knew it was completely true.

Literature Section “07-36[X] Honeymoon Hivemind Clusterf***”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 36 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—Abridged 8214 words::Explicit 8434 words—Accompanying Images:  2187-2196—Published 2025-08-27—©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 degradation and bullying some readers may find disturbing

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah’s best friends, concerned about their liege lady’s well-being and the rumors beginning to circulate in hell, decide to crash her honeymoon with Penance and Chastity, bringing her First Husband, the Dragon King, and two other prize pieces of beefcake along for Channah to ride, and forcing her two brides to help cook breakfast for the lovers upstairs.  NOW:

On their own honeymoon, the girls cooked and assisted with other chores for about an hour enduring the loud cries and moans from above them that proved conclusively Miriam and Rivqah had been right to bring real men for their Domina to celebrate with, before Haruka finally dismissed the girls into Esmeray’s care.  At this point they had helped her make coffee, pour cream, pile dates on plates for sweetening the coffee, set the dinner table, chopped vegetables and cold meats, steamed rice, and warmed bread, listening carefully as she explained exactly how to prepare each item and ingredient the way Channah liked it, and enduring her harsh criticisms and corrections of them every time they made a mistake. 

Now she relaxed on a stool beside the kamado—the traditional Japanese oven in Channah’s Mesoamerican hacienda that, Haruka had explained, reflected their Domina’s preference for the meticulousness and rigidity of Japanese aesthetics in her home—idly bobbing one foot, at first casually and then with more deliberation as she noticed Penny’s stare, frowning with concentration like a cat experimenting with a mouse.  She slowly sipped her own coffee, enjoying watching as Esmeray bound their wrists, hobbled their ankles, leashed them, piled their trays with food and drink and utensils, and led them away to and awkwardly up the stairs, forced by their bonds to balance their trays on their forearms while desperately clinging to the outer edges with their shackled hands.

Esmeray turned off the stairs on the second floor, which the girls had never explored before, and led them to two unfamiliar but well-appointed rooms.  The first, on the right, overlooking parts of the garden they had never seen before, and the rain forest under the cliffs, was the parlor.  It was dominated by curved tables arranged in a ring with curved sofas just outside them, and four giant multi-pipe hookahs spaced around the circle.  The other, the saloon or celebration room, on the left—which was occupied now—overlooked the garden, the springs, the gazebo, and the great valley beyond them.  It contained broad divans arranged around the perimeter of the room with a large area comprising, essentially, an oversized bed formed by divans that had been pushed together in the corner immediately to the right of the entrance.  All the divans in the corner were flat.  The other divans, and a number of chairs,that were scattered elsewhere around the room offered a variety of intriguing and unique shapes for playing on, and were piled with pillows of every shape, size, and firmness.  Tiferet sat on a chair near the middle of the room behind an easel with paints, brushes, and pots of water set on two low tables to either side of her, painting swiftly and intently, while Esmeray sat on a stool beside and slightly behind her, watching in fascination over her shoulder.  Their chairs were facing the divans in the corner where the six lovers relaxed, eyes closed, naked and entangled in postcoital bliss:  Channah and Húanglóng lying sideways with Channah’s head resting on Húanglóng’s soft, fat stomach; Rivqah spooning Jacob with her hand holding his member; and Miriam curled against George’s side with her head on his arm, running her fingers idly over his chest.  Only Tiferet and Esmeray were still dressed; on the bed, the celebrants had cast aside all their clothing and shoes, and a large portion of their gold jewelry.  As best the girls could tell, their decisions about what jewelry to leave on, and what to take off, were completely arbitrary.  If there was any rhyme or reason to the selections, it eluded them.

After the girls had served everyone else coffee and breakfast, Channah sent them back downstairs for spiked wine and spirits.  Upon their return, Channah made them stand just in front of the divans and fill two goblets apiece with a blend of spiked wine and clear spirits, then choke down the nauseating stuff while everyone watched and cheered them on with laughter.  Miriam and Rivqah then instructed them to fill a large, deep bowl on the floor with a mixture of white spirits, mint, and water, and finally to serve all the lovers and their qahramanah with spiked wine.  Channah, laughing, made Penny bring her one of the wine bottles and held Penny face-up on her lap while she poured more wine down her throat, while Rivqah and Miriam did the same to Chastity.

Finally, Channah commanded them both to crawl before Húanglóng, who was now sitting on the edge of the group of divans, drinking wine, while Channah sat behind him with her head on his shoulders and her arms as far around his chest as she could reach.  “You missed my weddings, beloved,” Channah reminded Húanglóng, immediately provoking Rivqah and Miriam to laugh:  “uh-oh!” “Oh no!” as if someone had done something wrong.

Húanglóng shrugged.  “What man can keep up with the weddings of such a healthy, lusty succubus?” causing everyone else to laugh while Chastity and Penny looked nervous.  Noticing, Húanglóng pointed to the ground at his feet, commanding them:  “Don’t be shy.  Crawl closer, let’s see my wife’s homet-nuswut.”  The phrase was ancient Egyptian, and was another way of expressing their status as Channah’s lesser, secondary partners, compared with Channah’s and Húanglóng’s status as primary partners to one another.

As they hurried over on their knees, provoking laughter from the others, Channah admonished them:  “I know I don’t have to tell you girls to treat my First Husband as you would me, your god where I am your goddess, do I?”

“No, Domina,” they assured her, looking scared, aware the atmosphere in the room had changed and everyone else was now watching them intently with a sharpened interest the girls didn’t understand.  At least some of their uncertainty was reflected in the eyes of George and Esmeray, but at least those two had the instinctive comfort of knowing whatever was happening, didn’t involve them.  But everyone else in the room seemed to be in on it, whatever ‘it’ was.

“Stay on your knees.  But put your heads on the floor with your arms stretched out under the bed in front of you,” Húanglóng ordered them, calmly and with a sense of self-possession, “and turn your heads to the sides, away from one another.  I want each of you focused on me now, not distracting one another.”

The girls obeyed, and next felt the Emperor’s large, heavy feet descending to rest on their heads, pressing them down uncomfortably into the stone floor as he relaxed and allowed their weight to rest on the girls’ skulls.  With their shackled wrists in front of them, the Emperor’s posture allowed him an easy and—for them—humiliating way to keep them under his control.

“You married my wife,” he stated, gruffly and bluntly.  They heard Channah make a noise somewhere between a growl and an approving moan behind him.  “But you didn’t even so much as ask my permission first, did you?” 

“No, Master,” they responded in unison, knowing he would be displeased with their angle..  “I’m sorry, Mast—”

“Hush!  You’ll have a chance to show how sorry you are in a minute, and possibly all day.”  The celebrants on the bed all made warning calls and hoots of anticipation, while Penny’s half-squished face (Chastity’s was invisible to the group, facing the wall) just looked more anxious and worried, provoking secondary laughter.  “Right now, you listen to me and you answer me.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.” 

“From now on, you will address me as ‘First Husband,’ although when you’re serving me sexually—”

Miriam laughed:  “I wish you could see the panic in this little girl’s face!”

He acknowledged the comment with a slight, momentary grin, continuing “You should call me ‘Daddy,’” he decided, rolling the balls and heels of his feet over their temples and cheeks, perhaps because it felt pleasant to him or perhaps simply to reinforce their helpless subservience before him.  Then he responded to Miriam:  “When you marry a married woman, you marry her husband as well,” he pointed out reasonably.  “If they didn’t want to be both our playthings, they shouldn’t have married us, should they?”  And then, pushing down a little harder and squishing the girls’ faces a bit more, he emphasized:  “Especially without asking me first.  Should you?”

“No, First Husband!” they yelped.

“But you chose to marry us, anyway, and now you are bound to us as our ceshi or shu-wives.  Do you deserve my wrath, wretched girls?”

“Yes, First Husband,” they quavered fearfully.

“You certainly do.  But fortunately for you, I am a very tolerant and forgiving master.”  Sliding his feet from the tops of their heads to rest immediately in front of each girl’s face, he pressed the soles of his feet into their faces, speaking soothingly.  “Breathe, chattel.  Be calm and breathe.”

They obeyed—they could scarcely do otherwise, in their positions—but he emphasized:  “Deeper.  Breathe deeper!  I want to hear it!  I want to know you’re breathing in, deeply and calmly, breathing me into you….” And as they practically hyperventilated, everyone in the room could hear, and enjoy.  “That’s the way… Even in this plane, in this borrowed body, my body is at peace, and brings others to peace with me.  Are you starting to feel docile and calm, now, in my presence?”

“Yes, First Husband,” they answered, Penny’s response tinged with the faintest hint of surprise.

“Good girls.  Roll over onto your backs,” he commanded, lifting his legs while they scrambled to obey.  “Keep your hands above your heads!”  he reminded them; and as soon as they were in position, he settled his feet back onto them, this time right on their faces, pressing down.  “Breathe and worship me.  Go on!  Kiss my feet and clean them.  Get your tongues out!  Good girls…” They heard applause, and claps of approval, but no longer cared.  Or rather, they cared only whether their actions pleased Him, and their Domina.

“That’s so hot,” Channah moaned, scrambling around her husband to sit on his lap, facing him, and kiss him.  “I never get tired of seeing it.  Or of envying it.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 He roared with laughter.  “Look who’s talking.  Mmm…” he paused to kiss his wife back.  “You brought them to me already caged and humiliated and pledged to your service, did you not?  I’ve yet to meet the succubus who couldn’t domesticate an animal on sight.”

“But it’s so… effortless for you!” she protested, gnawing affectionately on his lip before pushing her tongue back against his.

After a moment he protested—his grin making his protestation unconvincing:  “Sitting on my thighs, you’re making it much harder for our little wives to show their respect!”

“Good!” she murmured huskily, pressing herself up against his hardening member and bouncing on his thighs to send concussive shocks down his legs into her chattels’ faces.

“I’ll bet it’s every bit as good for them,” Miriam added wryly.  “They know where they belong now.  And it’s probably what they need, they’re such compliant little girls.”

Tearing herself away with a sigh, Channah backed off the bed and squatted down between her wives, feeling them, and crowed with delight, provoking laughter from her companions:  “‘They shall lick the dust like a serpent.’  And they are most definitely trying to ‘move out of their holes like worms.’”

“So, Jacob,” Húanglóng snickered, rubbing his feet across his playthings’ eager tongues and lips, unable to completely conceal the enjoyment he felt from such an easy demonstration of his power, protracting it with casual conversation.  “We have met before?”

Channah snorted, “Boaster,” as she rose back to her feet, idly kicking Penny’s little scrotum and watching her flinch and whine without pausing for one second in her devotions.  “Incredible,” she hissed with disgust, shaking her head and going to the table where the girls had set the liquor, picking up a bottle of wine and offering refills to her companions.

“Come now, surely our girls should have a moment to acclimate to their new station before we put them back to work,” Húanglóng suggested loftily, as if he were doing them a favor, with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Jacob answered.  “I have had the honor of meeting you in Lytos, at your Palace of Indolence, upon the occasions of several anniversaries.”  Channah’s and Húanglóng’s anniversary celebrations, held in Lytos primarily to make it likely he and the other dragon participants would show up, was one of the few occasions when demons from different hells interacted other than through political embassies.  And although the guests were only dragons and succubae, the uniqueness of the event made it legendary in hell.

The Dragon King looked pleased.  “Ah, yes, I remember you now.  You enjoy chasing the dragon?”

“Everyone enjoys chasing the dragons, Master,” Jacob allowed.

“Ha ha, good answer!  As everyone dreams of being visited by the succubae.  I can see why you are invited, of course!”

“Not my conversational skills, I’m afraid, Your Majesty,” he admitted with a faint undertone that was difficult to place, but sounded almost ugly and hard.

Húanglóng raised an eyebrow, but didn’t care to pursue it, asking instead:  “You’re a cambion?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, the son of the succubus Michal.”

“Of course,” he nodded, turning to George.  “And you?  You seem—new to me?”

“We have never met before, Your Majesty,” George responded.  “I am George Manning, th-the carpenter at Duchess—er, Queen Channah’s Fensmere estate in Cambridge.”

Húanglóng’s eyes narrowed.  “But surely, if your life and soul are safe from the succubae, you can’t be fully human?”

George looked surprised.  “Yes, Your Majesty—I am!  Or… I thought I was…”

“Hmm… also not invited for your conversational skills.”

“Your Majesty?” George asked uncertainly.  “It—it’s an honor to have been invited—”

“Oh, dear.”

Channah, back by the sideboard, further fortifying the spiked wine by pouring what was left from the bottle she had used to refill everyone’s glasses into a flagon with a couple of fingers of spirits left in it, snorted and exchanged a wry glance with Esmeray before interjecting:  “He’s the son of one of my very brightest operatives.”

“Really?” Húanglóng asked drily.

“Really.  The woman who tutored the two, I can assure you, very-well-educated girls licking the dust and shit from the soles of your feet at this very moment, darling.”

“Really?” he looked surprised.

“Really, darling,” she assured him.  “We all thought he was human, but George darling, tell him what happened to you when our whorish little Penny got you overexcited?”

“I, er—” George blushed.  “Turned green.”

“More than just that, darling.  He revealed himself as a dragon cambion.  He might even be one of your great-something-grandsons.”

“Really?!” Húanglóng grinned, now interested and approving, clapping George on the shoulder.  “Good lad!  And I see you take after me in some ways!”

“I do?”

“Eh—in the ways that got you invited to this party!”

“Duchess Miriam said I would make a nice surprise for Her Majesty the Queen,” George admitted proudly.

“And you will!” Húanglóng encouraged him, patting him on the back reassuringly.  And, seeing he was still not following:  “We’re talking about the size of your cock, son!  You’re a big chip off the old block.  Succubae like a bit of demon cock now and again.  Nobody likes to fuck where they eat all the time.  Sometimes they like to focus on their own experience and just let go, instead of worrying about managing and corralling and consuming prey.”

“Oh,” George answered, turning red, politely continuing:  “Thank you for explaining, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t fret,” Jacob interjected tightly.  “You’ll get used to it.”

“Oh, I’ve always known my cock was—different,” George replied earnestly, forcing Jacob—who clearly knew his own place in the pecking order all too well—to look away until he could control his expression of derision. 

“I’m sure you do, son,” Húanglóng exchanged a wicked look with Channah, but managed to suppress his reaction better than either Jacob or Channah, who was snickering as she moved back over to Penny, squatting down to rest on her metal cage, the burning warmth of her fireplace surely as obvious to her toy girl as the pressure she was exerting. 

Sliding back and forth to tease the girl, and herself, she snapped:  “Toes!” as she began purring and dripping the doubly-spiked wine onto Húanglóng’s toes so it rolled over and off them onto Penny’s worshipful tongue and into Penny’s adoring mouth.  Penny, for her part, made Channah’s experience perfect by obeying her, choking and sputtering in shock at the strength of the brew, without interrupting her assigned task.  “My love, as much as it may irritate me how easily seduction and domination come to you, I’m most grateful you have such a way of shutting up my little Meoto here.”  Then she switched to her baby-talk voice:  “That’s the way, little Meoto, shut up and drink up for Mommy, while you please your Daddy.”

“‘Meoto’?!” Húanglóng asked.  “That’s… Korean?”

“Japanese.  For effeminate chatterbox.”

“It’s very funny.”

“Particularly because it fits her to a ‘T-girl,’” Channah assured him.  “A bigger blabbermouth you have never met.  And yes, I mean including Lucifer!”

Húanglóng raised an eyebrow skeptically, then looked back down at Penance’s nearly-naked body under his foot, serving him.  “Are you really a little blabbermouth, footsucker?”

Penny nodded earnestly, by now so far under the spell of Húanglóng’s powerful pheromones she could no more lie than disobey the dragon, or conceal her feelings from him.  “Yesh, First Husbnd.”

“Don’t you think we’re past ‘First Husband’ by now, Meoto?  You’ve been making out with my foot there for about five minutes now, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more passionately in love with my foot.  And that’s saying something.” 

Channah smirked:  “My girl has a bit of a thing for feet, darling.  Among her other… many… delicious little quirks.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Penny agreed enthusiastically, as oblivious to the laughter all around her as any audience member tricked into participating by a stage hypnotist might be.  “You’re right.  This is soooo sexy!  I love your big, strong, hard foot, Daddy.” 

“Yeah?  What do you like best about it?”

“It’s amazing,” she gushed.  “I’ve never been so turned on by a man’s foot before.  I don’t know if it’s the weight of it, Daddy,” Penny began babbling, slurring and pausing her words around the kisses and licks and sucks she was applying to every surface of Húanglóng’s foot she could possibly get her mouth on.  “The weight of it, which reminds me how big and strong you are; or the hardness of it, which reminds me of how masculine you are.  Or the smell of it, which is like…  I don’t even know what it’s like, Daddy; but it’s—it’s earthy and musky and sexy and—”

“Whoa!  You are a little chatterbox, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Oh, you’re not sorry yet, but you will be, when I punish you for marrying my wife without my permission.”

“I’m—I’m really sorry, Daddy,” Penance admitted, suddenly her voice sounding contrite and wavering, almost as if she were about to cry.  “I’m so sorry!”

“I’m sorry too, Daddy!” Chastity burst out, unable to stop herself.  “We respect you so much, Daddy!”  Chastity exclaimed.

“So much!”  Penny agreed.

“This pathetic display is better than any theater!” Jacob snarked, expressing what many of those watching were feeling and triggering a ripple of laughter throughout the room.

“Humans!”

“Livestock!”

And the ultimate put-down:  “Prey!”

“Which… actually… makes me wonder…” he looked around the room until he found who he was looking for and called her:  “Is it—Esmeray?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she conceded, looking concerned.

“Come over here and sit by me.”  He patted the bed just next to him.

Obediently, but without being able to fully conceal her reluctance, she rose and made her way over to him, trying to sit a foot or two away from him and stiffening to a porcelain rigidity when she felt his broad hand on her hip, effortlessly pulling her tight into his side, as he frowned in wonder.  Even punch-drunk-love-drunk Penny and Chas would have sensed Esmeray’s fundamental discomfort and hostility if they could have seen or sensed anything beyond their master’s feet, or been able to conceive of resisting him.  As it was, Esmeray’s strong reaction produced a ripple through the room, all of the succubae and their cambion immediately aroused with the narcotic-potent combination of their predatorial and sexual instincts her conflicted behavior aroused in them.

Esmeray felt her rage and resentment spiking and spiraling out of her control, trying her hardest to use the tricks she had taught herself over the years to maintain her calm despite her urge to lash out at him for ignoring her body language, her very identity and volition, so completely, a feeling she could only barely contain when it finally clicked with her that, far from being oblivious to her feelings—the usual problem with humans and demons alike—he was completely focused on them, and fascinated by them.  Only that belated realization enabled her to accept it when he rested his hand over her nose and mouth.

“Be careful, darling,” Channah warned him.  “She’s a powder keg.  More of a volcano, really.”

“Oh, I can tell,” he nodded, clearly riveted by what he was seeing.  “You’re… immune to me!  To us—”

“To all demons.  And humans.”  She laughed:  “And even pets, as far as I can tell, Sire,” Channah purred, still amusing herself on pathetic Penny’s body.

“This is incredible,” he wondered, meeting Esmeray’s angry, resentful, nearly-panicked eyes over the top of his hand, and suddenly, really recognizing how agitated a state she was in.

Hastily dropping his hands from her and raising them placatingly, he apologized smoothly.  “I’m so sorry my dear… this is such a rare thing… and you’re an extreme case.”

“It’s all right, Your Majesty,” she forced herself to say, no one listening to her likely to believe she actually felt that way—not least because of how the moment the Dragon King released her, she popped up to her feet and moved back from him, regarding him as one might regard, well… a dangerous serpent.

“Does it surprise you, the reaction I produce in most hucows?”  He asked, gesturing at the two adoring girls happy to be under his feet.

Those two… weakling little perverts?  Not as much as it would with normal huco—people,” she huffed, trying to breathe more slowly and deeply to calm herself.  “But… yes.”  And she managed to pack all he scorn of the world into that one single word.  “Do they—’we,’ I suppose—all act like that around you?!” she asked, incredulously.

“Pretty much,” the Dragon King shrugged, indicating it was nothing; simply another day in his world.  “All of them except for you.  You’re quite… disagreeable.  But I apologize for causing you stress nonetheless.  I don’t like causing stress.  I normally don’t.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Esmeray curtsied slightly, trying to express what she felt, which was that she actually appreciated what he was saying.  It was a different kind of magic, the oldest in the world:  simple courtesy and respect.  But not something she had learned to expect from either humans or demons.  Shrugging again, the Dragon King continued:  “I prefer… getting along with people, the way I usually do.”  Then, looking down at his feet, his voice dripping with contempt, especially at the contrast their behavior made with Esmeray, he asked:  “Do you ‘girls’ even remember what it felt like to want to be a man?”

“Oh, yes, Daddy!”  Penny assured him.  “I want to be a man now!”  And then, sounding despondent, heedless again of the roars of laughter from around her:  “It’s still inside me always.  I wish so much I could be a man and I’m so ashamed to be a little girl!”

“Every minute?” he asked, his eyes lighting a bit at the thought.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Every second of every day!”  Chastity cried out her pain.  “I like being a girl, a lot!  Not like Penny.  But at the same time I—I’m confused—I don’t know, I was supposed to be—maybe I am supposed to be a man—I wish I could just be a girl and be happy about it!”

 “I’m not!  I’d give anything to be a man!  A big, powerful, sexy man women want and love.  Just like you!”  Penny moaned, licking and sucking furiously, practically losing herself in the act.  “But I’m not what I want to be!    I’m just not!  I didn’t—I don’t want to be a girl.  But I just am!  A weak girl.  I can’t help it!  I’ve never been any good as a boy, I was never allowed—never deserved—to have my breeching ceremony, and all I can think about are women and how much I wish I could make love to them!  But I can’t even get hard any more from normal sex.”

“You’ve never had ‘normal’ sex in your life,” Channah mocked her contemptuously, cutting her down as easily as a scythe sweeping through a field of flimsy wheat stalks.

“I mean—I mean to say—I’m so embarrassed, Domina!  I mean…” she whispered, not wanting anyone else to hear, maybe not even wanting to hear it herself:  “From touching myself.”

“You’ve touched yourself?!  Like Onan?!”  Channah roared accusingly, well aware she was leading a performance for the entertainment and arousal of her guests.

“In the dark, in my bed—yes, Domina.  I’m so—I used to be so horny, thinking about women and their bodies, their hips, their bottoms, their legs, their feet—”

“And you can’t get hard anymore, can you?”

“Not—like that.  Never when I’m in my cage.  And now I—since you began training me—it seems I can only orgasm like a girl, when I’m on the bottom—”


“The receiving partner?”  Channah suggested.

“Yes, Domina,” she whispered, covering her own eyes in shame without pausing in her ministrations to the Dragon King’s feet.

“Pathetic!” Channah spat, almost literally, touching herself with her free hand and hissing as if she’d touched fire.

“I know!” Penny started crying, without slowing down, grunting as Channah stepped on her cage and observed: 

“Don’t lie to me, Penance.  Don’t lie to your Daddy.  I can feel how much you like being a girl.”  She emphasized her words with more-aggressive, presumably quite painful, jabs and rolls and tugs on Penance’s little cage.

“I don’t, Domina, I’m sorry!  I don’t!”

“Then why is your little clitty so hard?”

“It’s so awful!  I—I can’t possibly say, Domina!  Please don’t make me say it!”  And then she whispered:  “I don’t even want to hear it!”

“Oh-ho-ho, but I do.  And I’m what matters, aren’t I, Meoto?”

“Yes, Domina, you’re all that matters.  You and Daddy—”

“Tell me!” She demanded, working her toe in between her cheeks and up towards her little girl’s hole.

“I—I feel like… It’s hard to say it, exactly… I don’t even understand it!”  She wept.  “How can I explain it?”

“Just do your best, sugar bear.  Trust us.  Well—trust our experience.  There’s very little we haven’t seen before and even less we don’t understand.  Go on,” she encouraged her girl with her probing, teasing toe and her taunting tone of voice, finally getting what she wanted.

It came out as the quietest whisper:  “I’m—I know I’m such a lowly worm, lower than dirt, it’s such a relief to just—to just be what I am I don’t know…”

But they most definitely did.  The room roared and reverberated with cruel laughter as the vulnerable girl’s deepest and most-shameful truths came out.

“I told you you were a shit-eater, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Domina, but I didn’t understand it—”

“Do you understand now?”

“I don’t—maybe!” she howled in pain, before dissolving into sobs.  “It’s so unnatural—I can’t—it can’t be that—I don’t understand…!”  She bawled.

“But you’re beginning to,” Channah diagnosed her condition with a spiteful, liberating delight.  “Don’t worry, my little Pleaser.  We’re going to explore this in depth.”

“Sooo much depth!”  Rivqah whooped delightedly.

Channah, barely able to contain her smile enough to keep talking, assured Peny:  “You’re going to earn your name even better now, Pleaser, now that I can see better what I’m aiming it.  I’m going to drag you through your misery and shit until you look like a muddy golem under my feet!  It turns you on to be able to finally give up all that exhausting, hopeless, ineffective pride and hope and craving to be something more than you are, something you’re absolutely not, and just admit to us—show us—what a worm you are, doesn’t it?”

“I think so, maybe—Domina!  I’m not sure—”

“Oh, I am,” she laughed richly.  “And the better I understand you, the better I can tear you apart, sweetheart.  Thank you for this key.  Admitting who and what you are—to us, maybe even to yourself because only by admitting it to us, are you forced to face it yourself?—Doing that is what makes you happy because you can actually be yourself for once!  What a relief that must be!”

“Oh, it is, Domina, it is!  But it’s also—terrible—”

“It certainly is mortifying and, I’m sure, painful and humiliating.  As it ought to be.  Especially when you’re surrounded by big, real men like my First Husband and other fuck buddies here.  But you just can’t help who you are, sweetie,” she mock-comforted her girl, reaching back to wrench her tiny scrotum painfully with one hand, as she put her other hand on her neck in a chokehold, demonstrating her mastery of her slave physically as well as mentally.  “And nothing feels better than being who you really are, baby…” she cooed encouragingly, shivering with arousal.  “Even though you fucking hate it, don’t you?  I bet you’d give anything to be different—to be a man!

“I do!  I do so!” Penny bawled.  I wish I could be like Daddy instead of like me.”

“Well… admit that to your Daddy, bitch.  You’ll feel better.  We’ll all feel better,” she chortled.

“Yes, Domina.  Oh, Daddy, truly, I wish I could be like you—I wish I could be you, instead of me!” 

Chastity wailed, starting her own waterworks:  “Me too!  YOU’RE a man my lord!  You’re the real thing!  I know I’m supposed to be like you, but I want to be a girl!  I’ve always wanted to be a girl, for as long as I can remember!  Ohh!  I can never face my father again.  Or my brothers!  Not even my own mother!”

“I can’t even face myself!”  Penny bawled.  “I have to try sooo hard to remember I’m a girl and to act like I’m a girl and to accept my place as a girl and put up with so many pawing men who want to play with my body, especially now that it’s a girl’s body, when all I wish is that I’d been born with the spirit of a man!  My hate my penis!  I mean I love my penis but—but—but all it does now is remind me of what I’m supposed to be, and what a failure I am!  Oh how I wish I could be like you!”

“Wait—now you think you can even compare yourself to me, little pussy?!” Húanglóng asked, sounding surprised but doing nothing to conceal the amusement and contempt he felt. 

“I’m sorry!  I apologize, Daddy!”

“Because you know you’re not a man, as disgraceful as that is?  Is that right?”

“That’s right, Daddy,” Penny confessed, as both girls kept weeping and worshiping and working on pleasing their Master.

“Chastity, I understand,” Húanglóng allowed.

“Oh, thank you, Daddy!” Chastity gushed.  “Thank you for understanding and tolerating me!”

“Shut up and stand up in front of me!” Húanglóng barked.  “Penny, don’t you dare move or interrupt what you’re doing!”  And the moment Chastity was on her feet in front of the Dragon, he grabbed her arm and yanked her across his left knee, pushing her neck down with his left hand and trapping her legs under his right knee before spanking her furiously, a staccato series of blows from his mighty hand that immediately reactivated all her bruised, oversensitized flesh and sent her into tears of pain, multiplying her misery and humiliation.  “Dear,” Húanglóng smirked at his First Royal Wife calmly, not even breathing heavily, and without slowing down the motion of his hand.  “I’m impressed.  You’ve made mincemeat of these girls’ bottoms, haven’t you?”

“I surely have,” she admitted, guffawing with the rest of the room.

“They’re so blue!  How weak they are, to have accepted that.  I can’t imagine how you thought you could endure a week out here alone with them for company!”

“Honestly—now—I don’t either,” she admitted, standing and playing with herself, leaning forward over Chastity to make out briefly with her husband while their little side-piece took her spanking below them.  “I should have known better.  Fuck I’m so wet right now!” she admitted, straightening up and stepping back, teasing herself with one finger as she looked back and forth between one crying horny girl desperately worshiping her Master’s foot, and the other one helplessly being spanked like a two-year-old.  “Wow.”  She shook her head, appreciative and a little appalled.  “Thank you for intervening on my behalf to save me from… this freak show, girlfriends!”

“That’s what friends are for!” Rivqah laughed. 

Literature Section “07-35 BULLying Cucks for Kicks”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 35 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—5616 words—Accompanying Images:  2176-2186—Published 2025-08-26—©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.                                     

PREVIOUSLY:  The second long, perverse, intense day of Channah’s, Chastity’s, and Penance’s honeymoon is over.  They sleep as they feel:  closer to one another than ever before, and more unequal, the internal power dynamics of their relationship further strengthened by Channah’s erotic assertive hunger, Penny’s suffering service, and Chastity’s eagerness to please and belong.  NOW:

They awoke to another perfect morning at the top of the world, a chill in the air perfectly counterbalanced by their tightly-snuggled warm bodies, and the Sun’s indirect light from behind the surrounding mountains a promise of coming warmth.  The flowers in Channah’s garden were as revived as they, blooming to greet the Sun, the air fresh and innocent as Eden, the joyous songs of birds celebrating the world’s rebirth.  All three of the lovers felt invigorated and eager for the day. 

Giggling, the girls carrying their Mistress’s sandals and dress, she led them hand-in-hand to the bath where she watched Penny pick up the jar of soap and stare at it.  Intuiting what Penny was thinking, she asked:  “It tastes awful, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Domina,” she agreed unhappily, reaching her fingers resignedly towards the jar.

“Here,” Channah interrupted her, “Let’s do this right.  Chastity—” she handed her the jar while reaching into the water to remove Penny’s chastity cage, enjoying the way her wife gasped and her eyes widened.  Then she took Penny’s hair in her hand and yanked her head back and down so Penny collapsed on her knees leaning backward in the water, feeling Channah’s legs pressing into her side.  Smiling sexily, Channah scooped up the soap and and barked:  “Open wide, bitch,” giggling and looking turned on when Penny immediately obeyed, even knowing what was coming.  Humming, she smeared the powerful soap around the inside of Penny’s mouth, scrubbing and semi-choking her.  Their eyes were locked on one another’s the whole time, intimate enough to make Chastity feel a pang of jealousy, and Channah began breathing heavier as she watched her prodding fingers force tears to form around the edges of Penny’s eyes.

When she was finished, she held Penny there, half-choking on soap, reaching under the water to confirm with a wider smile that Penny was fully hard.  “You’re coming along well as a wife.  But I’m afraid there’s not enough soap in the world for a girl as dirty as you,” she whispered, giggling as she pushed Penny’s head forward and down, half-drowning the girl as she finally let her rinse her mouth out.  When Penny finally seemed to have gotten as much of the soap out as she could, Channah kept hold of her hair and dragged her backward to the edge of the spring beside a flat rock where she had directed the girls to set her things.  Penny was again held near surface level gazing up at the beautiful blue sky and the even-more-beautiful demoness towering over her.  Fishing out a Persian hard candy, Channah put it in her own mouth, then leaned forward and down to kiss her girl, pushing the sweet and pleasant mint confection into her mouth as they made out.

Without interrupting what she was doing, she stretched her empty hand out towards Chastity and snapped her fingers impatiently.  Figuring it out, Chastity came closer to them with the jar of soap, at once glad and uncomfortable with the strange feeling of still being outside their bubble no matter how physically proximate they were. 

Channah pulled her lips off Penny long enough to murmur:  “You know how to float?”  And when Penny nodded, she commanded:  “On your back, then, bitch!”  getting more soap and laughing as she began working on Penny’s little nub when it came into view at the surface of the water, pleased with how hard it was.  Sniggering, she released her victim suddenly, making her flail to keep her head above water, and teased her:  “I’d tell you to take care of that but you might misinterpret it as permission.”  Suddenly adopting an innocent expression, she asked:  “Do you want me to hit it until it gets soft?  Or can you think good, pure, decent thoughts while you bathe the rest of your body so you’re ready for your cage before we get out?”

“I’ll try—I’ll think decent thoughts, Domina,” Penny promised hoarsely.

“Good girl.  See you do so.  And if I were you, I’d look out over the valley.  The way you’re looking at me now, your little stubby won’t be getting any better-behaved.  If you won’t fit back in your cage when I’m ready to lock you up, I’ll make it wilt.”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny agreed, embarrassed at her sharp laugh and the even sharper one when Penny turned away sharply to look out over the valley and clean herself, trying to tune that out and the noises of Channah flirting with and washing Chastity.

Eventually, when her companions quieted down, the warm spring water and the paradise around them were too peaceful and powerful to ignore and she floated silently in the water, marveling to be there.

“The birds… don’t come into the house,” Penny observed, when there was silence behind her, watching an eagle soar above the valley in front of them. 

“No, they don’t,” Channah agreed happily.  “Not birds, not insects, not rodents.  Only humans and demons—beings with souls—come into the house.”

“Do demons have souls?”  Penny asked curiously, looking over her shoulder at Channah, and then reddened at Channah’s surprised expression.  “I’m sorry Domina, I wasn’t thinking—”

Looking both amused and slightly challenged, she answered:  “I… think so.  Don’t we?”  And then, embarrassed in her own turn when she saw their surprised expressions, asked pointedly:  “How confident are you about humans?

The girls laughed before realizing she was serious as well as challenging them in turn.  Looking at one another, Penny answered slowly:  “I… think so, too.” 

Meanwhile, Chastity opined:  “Most of us for sure.  I can’t speak to all of us.”  Then Chastity looked at Penny in shock.  “You think so?!  You aren’t sure?!

Now it was Penny’s turn to look embarrassed.  “Probably,” she allowed, turning her gaze back upon the eagle.  “I think… I feel… I see, I experience… I must have a soul, mustn’t I?”

“If that huge heavy burden you carry around everywhere with you isn’t a soul,” Channah suggested, “You might want to figure out what it is.  Or even better, simply let go of it.”  And then, with an evil laugh:  “And maybe let it go even if it is.”

“NO!”  Penny protested, shocked, whirling around and then seeing her lazily gazing back, amused.

Rolling her eyes, she said:  “Are you ready to get back in your cage now, St. Augustine?”

“Yes, Domina,” Penny admitted meekly, moving back towards her Mistress in response to her lazily beckoning fingers. 

Only after they were both locked back up did she lead them out of the bath and tease them by making them dry her off and dress her, sighing with pleasure as she felt their need for her returning and could tell they were feeling the tightness of her bejeweled grip below. 

Just as they turned toward the house, Channah paused with a surprised expression.  “Hang on… I think we have guests!”

Striding to the door barring the entrance to the honeycomb, she pointed to the ground behind her and snapped her fingers, not bothering to wait for them to kneel before she approached the door and opened it, revealing Miriam and Rivqah, dressed to the nines in tight sheer white linen kalasiris that only emphasized, rather than concealed, their voluptuous forms; high-heeled gold mules; and exquisite gold jewelry that was as striking as a whole, as the individual pieces were subtle individually.  They encircled or were draped over or dangled from every part of their bodies, from the tiaras on the crowns of their heads, to the rings around their toes.  They were both hanging on the arms of a huge mountain of a man, fully a foot taller than most men, with broad shoulders, heavy musculature covered with softer subcutaneous fat, and a wide fat belly.  But who was most notable for the charismatic force of personality that radiated out from him like a shockwave.  Complementing the two succubae, he was wearing only a tight sheer white linen shendyt, gold sandals, and his own complement of gold jewelry.  All three of them wore clothing the girls associated so narrowly with ancient Egypt that it seemed incongruous on a man whose features and skin were so obviously East Asian, and his air of danger and reckless self-assurance so clearly those of some barbarian kha-khan. 

To the girls’ shock, Channah positively squealed with delight, rushing forward and crying out joyfully:  “Húanglóng my love!” before embracing the man, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around him and allowing him to whirl in a circle while she clung to him as if she were a cotton doll. 

“My beloved Channah!” he roared back, before kissing her on the lips, while Miriam and Rivqah watched and applauded, sparing only brief smirks of withering contempt for the two red-faced humiliated girls kneeling nude and caged on the ground behind their Queen.  Clearly not all of her husbands were broken and chastised.  Certainly not her first and primary husband, a demon as powerful and distinguished as Húanglóng, King of the Dragons.

When they were finally done, Húanglóng set Channah back on her feet and she asked excitedly:  “However did Miriam and Rivqah pry you away from your Palace of Indolence?  It’s been…”

“Years,” he shrugged casually.  “Possibly decades.  I’m not sure.  But in truth, I see little reason to stir from my own paradise.  No reason, in fact—besides you, of course, my dear.  I’ve hardly even noticed much difference being banished to hell.  Human vice and weakness still bring legions of the vermin to us seeking dragons, gold, and glory….  and we dragons like the dry heat.  And since we, literally, breathe brimstone, we don’t even notice the smell.  Lilith and Cain, it’s been… centuries since I’ve smelled the air of Earth,” he marveled, looking at the beauty around him and drawing in deep breaths of fresh air.  “Maybe I ought to be a little less of a homebody… but finding the right body for a man such as me?  One even fractionally worthy of my presence?  Fortunately, your extraordinary and devoted handmaids found me this body, which even has a…” he shrugged, “somewhat adequate approximation of a cock, to wear to the mortal world.  A rare find indeed!  Miriam and Rivqah, my dears, you have outdone yourselves,” he beamed at them.

“Honestly, happening upon the fellow in Central Asia is what persuaded us to crash your honeymoon!”  Miriam admitted.

“It seemed almost like a sign,” Rivqah interjected.  “Especially knowing how much progress you want to make with your girls!  It occurred to us you could use your husband’s… unique powers.”

Channah considered for a moment and conceded:  “You have a point.  I have every confidence in my little ceshi.  But I’m sure my poor dears don’t stand a chance against the mighty mighty Húanglóng—either in competing for my attention, or resisting him.”  Penny and Chas exchanged a nervous, worried look, but didn’t dare interrupt.

“And I admit, when they told me you had locked yourself away for a week with only a pair of eunuchs for company, well, I… I don’t know,” Húanglóng admitted, looking embarrassed.  “I did feel rather like I’d let the side down with you.  I mean… next you’ll be joining a nunnery!”  The demons collapsed in laughter at the idea, but Channah looked worried and anxious enough, the girls could immediately sense how little she liked the image her honeymoon apparently being painted of her by the wags of hell.  “I had to come and jolly you out of your funk before the other demons started gossiping that your rebellion had already failed!”

“Nonsense!” Channah stamped her foot with outrage at the idea, trying not to show how shaken she was by the suggestion, with thoughtfulness outliving the outrage and lingering behind.  “But you’re right, it is too dangerous to risk making them even start to believe a pair of lowly jawari matter a whit to me.  Let alone speculating why.”

“Of course, it’s nonsense!” Húanglóng agreed, waving his hands dismissively, “but locked up in hell, in their own miserable little realms—nothing like my beautiful pleasure palace—all the rest of them can do is gossip jealously!”

“Well, it’s ridiculous.  I’ve been returning to exploring of my own, remembering my masculine side for the first time in… years, certainly,” she conceded, before acknowledging again:  “But anything that attracts notice to my affairs… especially my wives… is unwanted.”  Frowning, she continued:  “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

“Certainly, my dear!”  And they had another long, languorous kiss before separating, Húanglóng almost stepping back onto Chastity by accident.  Looking down, he frowned.  “Are these your little cucks?  I’ll look forward to seeing what you’ve trained them to do!”

“Oh, it’s early days yet,” Channah admitted, looking slightly embarrassed for some reason.  “That was one of the reasons I planned the honeymoon, to catch them up on their training before I put them to work!  Without imagining I might be with you!  Rivqah and Miriam, my sisters, what a perfect gift this is for me.”  Then, her voice becoming harsh, she barked over her shoulder:  “Girls, fall on your bellies and suck the toes of your Master and Brother-Husband.”  They looked up at her with shock, and then immediately fear to see the intense insistence in her voice and eyes, before blushing, forcing themselves to the ground, and pushing their tongues under his toes to lift them enough to suck.  Above them, they could hear Miriam and Rivqah sniggering and clapping with delight as Channah hissed:  “That’s the way.  You know he’s your better in every way that would matter to a male, don’t you?”

“A little slow for my taste,” Húanglóng opined judgmentally at the girls.  “I can see why you don’t think they’re ready yet.  But I expect we can help you discipline and train them better while we’re here, if you don’t want to keep all the fun to yourself.”

“So…” Channah smiled mischievously.  “Did you have a plan for your visit?  Or are we simply winging it?”

“Planned?!  Oh, have we ever!”  Miriam burst.  “But you have no need to worry about it.   Why don’t the two of you celebrate your reunion and let us take care of everything else?”

“Awww….” Channah gazed at them fondly.  “You two are my heart,” she exclaimed, hugging them both tightly before stripping off her robe and kicking off her shoes, an action Húanglóng immediately copied.  “Do you remember where the bedroom is?” she asked her husband.

“It doesn’t matter… I want to follow and watch your sinuous and spellbinding walk, my goddess,” Húanglóng confessed.  “Please, lead my way so I can follow!”  And giggling, she sprinted for the house, with Húanglóng eagerly—and her wives’ eyes despairingly—following her wide buttocks and long legs propelling her towards their marital bed.

The girls’ view was interrupted before the happy couple disappeared around the corner of the garden path by Rivqah’s high-heeled sandals, as she stepped forward and then bent down, smirking into their eyes as they sheepishly looked up to meet hers.  “You two must really feel like emasculated sissies now, mustn’t you?” 

And when they didn’t speak, her brows knitted together and her face darkened until the two girls nodded frantically.  “Yes, Domina.”

“Yes, Domina, what?!

“Yes—yes, we feel like emasculated sissies, Domina.”

“Too slow again, but better!  How much she must be coddling you!  I’m so relieved we intervened before you two completely unlearned all your manners and skills.  Why do you suppose you feel that way?” She then asked, raising an eyebrow expectantly while they exchanged a worried look, uncertain of their lines, before Penny figured it out and whispered, turning scarlet:

“Because we are emasculated sissies, Domina.”

“Quite!” she announced triumphantly.  “Pathetic!  Now gather up your Masters’ clothing and follow us to the house!”

The girls had been aware there were other figures in the honeycomb behind the three demons, but had neither the time nor the permission to pay them much attention before.  Now they—seven people, loaded with boxes and crates and equipment—emerged to follow Miriam and Rivqah without so much as a glance behind them, all their senses focused on not tripping in their haste to keep up with Rivqah and Miriam.  Four of them were male, three of them female.  Three of them were very pale—too pale to be human—and four of them were of human pallor and appearance, although the girls had learned not to make too many assumptions about what they might expect or find.  Two of those with a human appearance—Penny was sure—looked familiar. 

The girls scrambled to their feet to obey Rivqah’s command.

In fact, when they set down their burdens, the girls could confirm two of the recruits brought here by Channah’s Ladies’ Maids were known to them.  The first was none other than their qahramanah, Esmeray, who appeared to be about as discombobulated and anxious about being here instead of training her other jawari as the girls were to have her.  The other was, even more surprisingly, Big George, the carpenter of Fensmere. If anything, George was even more surprised to see them than they were to see him.  “You—you’re beautiful women now!” he managed, staring waay to long and not quite as delighted as Roger, Cutter, and Martin had been.  “What’s going on?”

“Channah has helped them realize their innermost desires, and become the things they have always yearned to be,” Miriam explained.

“Hallelujah!”  George proclaimed, immediately and automatically followed by Penny’s and Chas’s responses.

Taken aback, Esmeray asked:  “What was that?!” 

They looked embarrassed, but George answered:  “I don’t know, it just seemed to fit.  It sounded like she was praying or—”

“Like a benediction,” Penny offered, when George couldn’t find the right word.

“Yeah, like that.” 

The couple they did not recognize had swarthy skin and dark hair, perhaps Turkish like Esmeray, or Persian, or Arab.  The woman, distinguished from her colleagues by the fact she was not staggering under her burdens, carried only a long narrow bag in one hand and an elaborately inlaid lacquered case in the other.  She carried both of them protectively, it being obvious they were prized possessions she would not have wanted anyone else to carry for her, and seemed interested in everything around her as if she were having the experience of a lifetime.  The last was an intense, slim but well-muscled young man, who somehow managed to look amused, bemused, eager, and resentful as hell, all at the same time.  Both of them were dressed much as Húanglóng, Rivqah, and Miriam had been, the young man’s sheer loincloth leaving no doubt as to why he had been invited to this particular party, or that he would be a popular guest.

The other three were gwailou, pale demons:  a beautiful woman, a beautiful young man, and a fussy old man, all of them, as the girls would learn, Japanese; and all of them appearing…. ‘Pale’ wasn’t really the right word.  But it fit insofar as it made sense to everyone who set eyes on one, and there was certainly no better way the girls could think to describe them.  ‘Washed-out’ would have been too harsh.  ‘Insubstantial’ would have been inaccurate.  And ‘white’ would have been outright misleading.  Yet there was something about them that gave them the hint of death or absence, and not being quite full-dimensioned creatures of the mortal world.  All of them seemed resentful of the pitiful girls they had first found kneeling caged, nearly-naked, and largely ignored on the ground; a mystery that was slowly solved as it emerged they had been brought here to do the tedious domestic chores Channah had planned for her girls, so the girls could be impressed to serve Miriam’s and Rivqah’s wicked, and presumably less boring, purposes instead.

The woman, who they would learn was actually a succubus named Tiferet, followed the happy couple up the stairs, still carrying her bag and case.

Miriam instructed the humans and gwailou while Rivqah disappeared into the supply room.  After they had put the kitchen supplies in the kitchen, and the other supplies in the storeroom, Miriam commanded:  “Asuka, clean the house!  And stay away from the succubae.  None of us want to be bothered with servants today.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the old man bowed, something unpleasant and resistant shimmering across his face but almost immediately suppressed, before he half-slunk out of sight, half-winked out of their awareness.

“Sakura, tend to the garden and also stay away from the guests—make it perfect!” 

“Yes, Mistress,” the beautiful young man bowed, his jaw set, disappearing with much the same strange combination of normal movement and magic as Asuka.

“Esmeray, the girls are already in their leathers but we want them leashed, with their wrists bound in front of them and their legs hobbled, before you bring them up.  But first, you girls, help and obey Haruka prepare drinks and food for us.  Unquestioningly and immediately.”

“Yes, Mistress,” the beautiful pale woman and her crew of helpers curtsied before their Domina, having nowhere to go from the kitchen they were already standing in.

“When Haruka has given you everything to bring up to us and tells you you’re done in the kitchen, Esmeray, lead your jawari up to us and kneel with them, watching and learning in respectful silence until and unless you’re called on.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Domina!”  The three of them responded.

“Excellent!” 

“And, needless to say, Haruka, nobody wants to see you, either,” Rivqah added as she breezed back into the kitchen, carrying the two lacquered boxes from among Fang’s wedding presents to Channah and smirking significantly at the girls.  George, sounding confused, asked:  “What would you like me to do, Mistresses?”

The two succubae exchanged an excited glance and broke out laughing as they took his huge hands in theirs.  “You’re coming with Jacob and us to join the adults!  We’ve heard some rumors about you that we’re most eager to confirm!”  And they began leading him up the stairs, followed by the other young man, it taking a minute for George to work out what they were talking about and start grinning.  Behind them, Esmeray looked relieved to have been left behind; while Penny and Chastity looked crushed.

Until Haruka, already crabby with the two girls for what was—from her point of view—their privileged status, walked between them, grabbing and holding their ears in unecessarily tight pinches that made them whine, and led them to the stove.

Literature Section “07-34 An Intervention to Rescue Channah from Accepting Sexual Mediocrity”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 34 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—3764 words—Accompanying Images:  2168-2175—Published 2025-08-25—©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 sin and self-destructiveness some readers may find disturbing (even the abridged version).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ymph,” she answered, nodding reverently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Penny?” Chastity answered hoarsely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was… so unnecessarily and deliberately cruel!

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

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

She.

Was.

Damned.

By.

Love:

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

It was just a fact.

She knew it.

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

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

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

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

And made her victim acknowledge and in fact proclaim it!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.  NOW:

They had tumbled into Channah’s bed around midday.  Like humans, succubae experienced sleep cycles; but the most-active phases of their sleep, in particular, differed markedly.  Channah, in her sleep, had visited her current stable of dream-lovers.  She liked to keep 36 of them.  She wasn’t rigid about it, but it was a good target number, one that kept her fed and fueled her active and assertive life as a Queen of Hell.  Every succubus had her own preferred hunting grounds.  Because of the sheer scale of her appetites, and the power level required to dominate the rest of her species, she haunted sailing ships and army camps.  She kept seducing those she found awake by whispering into and touching their subconscious minds, to keep them focused on her and make them weaker.  And she had ridden those she found most-vulnerable and asleep, as hard as she could.  By the earliest hours of the morning, she was refreshed and filled to bursting with energy.

Even as she opened her eyes, she sensed Chastity, to her left, was awake; while Penance, to her right, remained asleep.  Turning her head slowly she met Chastity’s eyes, watching her so intently it took the motion of her head to alert her Channah was awake.  “Are you restless, my love?” she whispered.

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly…. I slept quite a long time.”

“Have you been awake long?”

“Perhaps an hour, or a bit more?” Chas guessed.

“Staring at me?” She smiled slyly.  “Or staring at us both?”

She didn’t need to see color clearly to know when Chas was blushing.  “A little bit.  Well, yes.”

“And?  How did it make you feel?”

“Amazed,” Chas admitted.  “You’re the most beautiful things in the world.  And so blessed…” then she caught herself, blushing.  “Or… I mean… fortunate.”

“I love it,” she smirked.  “And I love you for thinking that.”  She rolled toward Chas and kissed her softly, once, before deciding that wasn’t enough and kissing her again.  They wrapped their arms around one another, moving slowly so as not to wake Penny, and held one another tightly for the longest, sweetest kissing session either of them could remember for a long time.

It was only when Chas shifted slightly that Channah growled a throaty laugh, reaching her hand down to find the source of the problem.  Pulling back an inch and licking her lips, she giggled:  “Ohhh… baby… are those nasty Persian Gates starting to pinch again?”

“Yes, Domina,” Chas confessed. 

“Mm… well, let’s do something about that.”

“Oh… yes, please Mistress,” Chastity agreed, desperate to release the pressure she was feeling.

“Let’s get your leathers,” she whispered.  “This is my day, remember?”

“Yes, Domina,” Chas swallowed.  “What about Penny?”

She looked back over her shoulder, fondly, then grinned.  “Sleeping the sleep of the innocent at heart.  I’ve got more than enough energy for both of you.  Let’s let him rest up while I wear you out and then maybe you’ll be able to sleep a bit more.”  And she laughed, pushing Chas off the bed before her, and then taking her by the hand to lead her down the stairs from her bedroom.  At the bottom of the stairs she physically turned Chas so she was facing the garden and informed him laughingly:  “Keep your eyes front, missy, while I look through your toybox.  Well…. My Toybox, of toys for playing with Chastity,” she clarified.

“Um…. To tell you the truth, Domina, it’s so dark I don’t think I could see what you were doing even if I were right beside you,” Chas admitted.  “But of course I won’t peek, Domina.”

“Better yet, why don’t you get some cushions from the salon—in front of you—and bring them along?”  Channah could see as well in darkness as in daylight; even better, in some ways, in some wavelengths.  Placing most of the items she had selected in a bag, she took Chas’s arm (since her hands were now full holding three large cushions), kissed her, and set off along the garden path toward the baths.

“Are we going to take another bath?”  Chas asked breathlessly.

“You’ll see,” she promised, laughing girlishly and hiding whatever she had behind her, leading Chas all the way to the second spring, the one that fed the main garden stream.  There, she turned right, leading Chas along its rocky bank, under the canopy of the trees until they reached another open spot, mixed garden and grass, overlooking the great valley.  Within it, at the edge overlooking the valley, was a simple stone gazebo.

“It’s all so beautiful—I feel like it’s a magical world… it’s—” and suddenly she interrupted herself with a sharp intake of breath.  Channah laughed, guessing what she had seen:  the heavy hook, hanging from the roof of the gazebo, just a bit above head level.

“Set the cushions on the stone platform,” she commanded, tugging Chas forward, not allowing her to stop for more than a second beside the platform, and positioned her directly beneath the hook.  Dropping whatever she had brought with a rustle and clatter, she brought both her hands to Chas’s cheeks and neck, pulling her in for a long, slow, hot kiss, and then running her hands over Chastity’s shoulders and tummy and breasts while continuing to kiss her.

Breaking their kiss and humming happily, she squatted down to retrieve her bag and handed it to Chastity to hold while she rummaged through it until she found what she was looking for.  While she kissed Chastity’s cheeks and lips softly, Chastity felt Channah take her right hand and then her left, massaging each arm and fastening the cuffs in their familiar places around her wrists.  Next, laughing as she kissed Chastity deeply, she pulled two more cuffs out of the bag.  Then she and smouched her way down Chastity’s neck, breasts, and stomach to tease her caged flesh and kiss, kiss, kiss under her belly button and in the crevices where her legs met her torso and even the front of her thighs, totally distracting Chastity—not that she needed to—as she locked Chastity’s ankles. 

Working her way back up Chas’s body, she pulled a short length of chain from the bag, drawing the cold metal teasingly up Chas’s skin, catching both her arms, and pulling her hands in front of her.  In the night, in the shadow of the gazebo, Chastity saw only the corner of Channah’s wicked smile clearly, but she knew she was looking straight into her eyes, as she used carabiners to attach the two ends of the chain to her wrist cuffs.  Chastity let out a shuddering breath as Channah lifted her hands over her head and slid the chain over the hook.

“Have you figured it out yet, sweetie?”

Chas knew she meant, what Channah had in mind, because she had not locked or tied Chas’s hands to the hook and Chas could slip them off the hook anytime if she wanted.  “No…” she admitted, both excited and scared at once. 

With a deep-throated laugh, Channah drew another short chain from the bag as she kissed her way back down her girl’s body and chained her ankles together.

“I—I don’t understand—” Chas whined, as she began moving back up again.

“I think you do, baby.”

“I mean—I mean, you can’t—can you?”

Literature Section “07-12 The Garden Path at Night”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 12 of Chapter Seven, “Channah’s Slavegirls:  Pawns of the Court of Lust”—1230 words—Accompanying Images:  2037-2042—Published 2025-07-12—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.

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.

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.

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.