Tag: trigger

1874 06-108 Allll riiiight!  This is some good shit, man!
1875 06-108 Wait a second.  I feel funny… IT’S GOING BAD!  NOOO!!
1876 06-108 HEEELLLPPP!  Somebody let me out of here!
1877 06-108 Now I’ve got too many fucking fingers!  AAUUGH!

1878 06-108 Wait.  WTF are YOU doing down in here with me?!

1879 06-108 Et tu?!  SURPRISE!  Are you peeping in on my DREAMS?!
1880 06-108 NO!  Absolutely not!  Get OUT you old perv!

PREVIOUSLY:  Chastity, bound, blindfolded, and earplugged, her world shrunk nearly to the things she could feel against her skin, had been teased and then—triggered, taken away with shocking abruptness and in outrageous totality.  Esmeray, breathing carefully to stay calm, had been gently released and now was held, tenderly and respectfully, by Hong as she watched.  NOW:

“You’re going to bring her back from the edge and take her to the mattress,” Kadidia commanded, her voice oddly strained.  “Near the Queen.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Hong’s girls nodded and scrambled to obey, then paused as Kadidia continued, a sheen of sweat beginning to appear on her brow.

“You’re going to take the smaller of the two harnesses from the bag, truss her in it, and put her face-down on the mattress.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” they repeated, glancing momentarily, and with curiosity, at Hong as she gasped in recognition of something, then struggled to suppress a smile, all without saying a word.

“I want her involved,” Kadidia clarified, jabbing a finger toward Esmeray.

Hong curtsied and nodded.  “Of course, Your Grace.”

“And throughout all of this,” she turned her attention back to the four jawari, “you will keep your sister close beside me, within an arm’s length.  Treat her like a baby.  Do not drop her or handle her roughly or do anything to hurt her, jar her, cause her pain—nothing that could cause a reflexive response from a conscious person.  Also, do not talk to me or ask anything of me.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”  They looked at one another, uncertainly and uneasily, recognizing that something quite unusual and perhaps… risky?  Even dangerous?—was happening, but not understanding exactly what it was.  Only that it had something to do with what appeared to them to be an unconscious girl, but who in fact was much further away than that.

“You two—help me into my harness.  The larger one.  I want to do as little of the work as possible so I can concentrate.  Make it tight.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the two qahramanat chorused, scrambling forward, then paused when Kadidia raised a hand.

“Make it tight.  And make sure your girls make Chastity’s tight.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” they agreed, resuming their course.

The eight of them made for an odd parade, marching across the platform in some kind of complex rhythm intertwined with the jarring notes of the orchestra.  They walked slowly, the qahramanat and the four jawari looking constantly and carefully at Kadidia, to match her steady, but somehow tenuous, progress so they could stay close by.  Hong hovered with an eye on both Kadidia and her own jawari, as if to be ready to jump in and either protect Chastity from being jarred or dropped, or help Kadidia stay on course.  Kadidia and Chas were both snug and a bit savage-looking in their harnesses.  Esmeray followed slightly behind them, feeling oddly disgruntled and skeptical, not quite able to feel left behind and excluded, but equally unable to feel relieved at being on the periphery of whatever was happening, instead of an agent of action the way she had been.  Or could have been—whatever.  Either way, she was unhappy.

When they reached the mattress, Channah was just shifting Penny to the slicker stone beside it.  As the girls settled Chas gently down on the mattress, a scarcely-dressed member of the coven—thin, wiry, dark-haired, with deep brown eyes and skin like a subtle but beautiful shade of autumn leaves—crouched beside her and gently touched Chastity’s skin.

Almost immediately, her eyes met Kadidia’s and they nodded in synch, one, two, three times before the newcomer became unnaturally still, hands remaining on Chas; while at the very same second, Kadidia came back to full presence with a slight sigh of relief. 

Immediately, Kadidia went to help Channah and murmur in her ear, while Hong, considering, steered Esmeray to a point on the mattress less than eight feet from where Penny was sliding.  The two of them held hands for stability in their high heels on the squishy mattress.  It was firm and thin, as mattresses went, but still a challenge.  As they moved slowly across it, Hong asked:  “You were upset earlier when Chastity, and then my girls, got… excited near you.  If I’m right about what’s to happen….”

“What is about to happen?”

Hong laughed.  “It will be a lot easier to understand watching, than trying to explain; but basically, I think Kadidia is going to play with both girls—Penny and Chas,” Hong clarified unnecessarily.  She then impulsively leaned over, put her hand to Esmeray’s ear, and whispered.  Esmeray’s eyes widened and her cheeks turned slightly pink, surprised enough to forget all about Hong’s proximity, as Hong stepped back, giggling.  “I think.  Nobody consulted me, but that’s my best guess.  IF it happens that way, it’s going to be sloppy and vigorous and messy.”  She looked Esmeray carefully in the eyes.  “If that happens near you—now that you know to expect it—will you be able to stay still?  Or will that be too much?”

Esmeray considered before replying, reluctantly:  “It’s not too much.  I can do that.  If necessary.”

Hong shrugged.   “Her Grace asked me to involve you.  Some participation by you would seem to be required.  I was thinking… it will ruin your dress of course, because they’ve sprayed so much oil over Penny… but if you could sit—about—” Hong frowned, measuring off distances in her mind.  “Here!  Exactly here, facing that way, with your legs wide, perhaps we could set Penny between your legs with her head and shoulders on your lap.  Then you won’t actually… be involved, involved… but you can encourage Penny and bond with her.  She’ll be lost and needing support.”

“Really?”  Esmeray considered, suppressing a shudder.  “You think she… would trust me more?  Be more submissive to me, if I…?”

“Yes,” Hong nodded decisively, leaving no room for doubt.  “Both your girls.  They’e having a rough day and they feel isolated and scared in this place.  Even horny uppity little Chastity, no matter how much bravado she tries to show.”

Esmeray looked at Hong, startled.  “Bravado?!” she asked incredulously.  “You think—what she did—”

Hong nodded.  “Oh, yes.  I’ve seen it before.  Sometimes a girl with a boy-clit can forget herself and try to act like she’s a male back in human society.  They can be silly show-offs.  And of course, you punish them and teach them better.   But that’s what’s happening.  They’re mad at themselves, and they take it out on the world.  But my point is, feeling vulnerable and isolated, the way they must do today, you can imprint on them very heavily and positively with the smallest amounts of support.  Kind talk.  Encouraging talk.  Even silly soothing baby talk.  Anything showing your humanity will make a profound impression on them.  If you can hold their hand, or pet their hair, or lay an arm across them—” and noticing a slight stiffening in Esmeray’s posture, laughed gently.  “You’re hopeless.  It’s nothing.”  And she touched Esmeray softly, her expression going from challenging, to flat and dead illustrating how completely immaterial the touch was to her, to smirking amusement.  “If you can, that will go even further.  If you can’t,” she shrugged “it’s fine.  There’s always tomorrow.  Being a qahramanah is about training them for the long game, to serve our masters, and…” she whispered naughtily “to serve us.  Now, Her Grace is an impressive woman.”

“She certainly is,” Esmeray had to agree.

“If you start to feel crowded or trapped, first try lying back on your elbows.  This gives you a reason for not using your hands on them, because you need them yourself.  And if that’s still not enough space, lie all the way back and look up at the sky, or at the castle, anything—take yourself physically out of the equation, maybe even listen to the sounds from below, or of the orchestra, without physically separating your legs and lap from them.”

“I understand,” Esmeray nodded, managing to keep most of the revulsion and amazement out of her voice.  “They’re interesting ideas.”

“I’ll sit close—not too close!” she laughed “Behind you so I can coach you or you can ask questions.  Would that be all right?”

After a pause to think, Esmeray nodded with more confidence.

Literature Section “06-108[X] Bracing for Impact”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 108 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1338 words—Accompanying Images:  1874-1878—Published 2025-06-06—©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.

1856 06-104 Coven observing Channah and Penny through shield
1857 06-104 Coven opening shield
1858 06-104 Triggering Chastity
1859 06-104 Chastity’s Fate

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Your Grace.  Th—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Your Grace.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hongzhi, Your Grace.”

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

“Yes, Your Grace.”

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

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

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

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

Literature Section “06-104[X] Triggering Chastity”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 104 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—Abridged 1330 words::Explicit 1415 words—Accompanying Images:  1856-1859—Published 2025-06-01—©2025 The Remainderman.  This is a work of fiction, not a book of suggestions.  It’s filled with fantasies, idiots, and criminals. Don’t believe them or imitate them.


1732 06-86 Esmeray’s Torment
1733 06-86 Heathcliff?!
1734 06-86 Hong analyzes Esmeray like a bug trapped in a jar
1735 06-86 Hong’s Mercy

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah extended her arm straight out towards the tangled knot of clothed qahramanat and naked jawari, snapping her fingers decisively in command.  “Don’t you dare let the truth-speaker go.  Keep her here, in the hetaraslakos.  Do not break the ritual.  Bind her if you can, but I want her conscious and don’t you dare let her interrupt us again!  Then mount them both on the rails!”  “You biiiiiiitch!” Esmeray screeched, and “Yes, Domina,” Hong solemnly swore, and “Yes, My Liege!” the four naked girls imitated Fang.  NOW:

Hong commanded one of her girls in Mandarin, who ran to the other side of the platform while Hong and her other three Hongettes struggled to wrestle the howling, flailing, fuming Esmeray over onto her belly so they could get her under control. 

“Get your filthy paws off me you gorillas!”  Hong’s eyes narrowed at the insult, taking it at first as racist, taking advantage of an opportunity to seize Esmeray’s arm in the first step of a wushu hold.  “Don’t touch me with your naked filth!  I promise god I will destroy the—the filth—AAUGH!” the last sound was more one of frustration at her inability to find words damning enough to express what she was feeling, than any reaction to the physical stresses being placed upon her.

Hong executed her arm-lock, twisting Esmeray’s arm upwards behind her back and eliciting a sharp scream of pain. 

“BIIIITTCHH!”  Esmeray screamed, which Hong understood, and then baffled her:  “Keep your naked monkeys off me!”

Hong was taken aback.  She was straddling the crazy gwáinòuh’s hips now, with her left knee on one side and her right boot on the other, rolling Esmeray’s bent arm away from its natural position and placing extreme stress on it, while her submissives—theoretically trained in the martial arts, but obviously not as seriously as Hong—were wrestling as ineffectively as Hong was fighting.  Honghua and Hongjiao were using every ounce of their arm strength to fight Esmeray’s powerful leg muscles, while Hongan was at imminent risk of learning how much stronger jaw muscles were than fingers, if she kept trying to hold Esmeray’s head still by gripping her chin.

Was Esmeray stupid?  Hong wondered.  Jawari were one thing.  Jawari could be little air-headed ninnies (and Hong often thought her girls were) as long as they were attractive enough and sporting enough.  And apparently, according to the screaming devils below, it was quite possible for qahramanat to arouse them while being completely out of their minds.  But a qahramanah could not be stupid—and she had not seemed stupid to Hong, at first.

Then, as Hongzhi hurried back into view, carrying her irons, which Hong had commanded her to fetch, it all clicked into place:  This woman, who hardly paid attention to a submission hold, and kept talking about naked monkey parts, shuddered and stilled the moment she set eyes on the irons.  Her language wasn’t about race.

“Please no.  Please, no!”  voice plunging from a scream to a frightened moan, resistance evaporating, practically limp in their arms, moving only her head to shake it, Esmeray pleaded.  “I’ll be good.  I’ll be good.  I promise, I’ll be good.  See?  See?  You can hurt me it’s okay but please don’t please don’t use—use those.  PLEASE!”

And as Hong put the pieces together, she shuddered, as if she had taken a sudden chill.  Hong was not shy, or delicate, or squeamish, or easily intimidated, or scared, or timid, or submissive—she had been a best-in-class alpha as long as she could remember.  Even her parents’ stories of her childhood portrayed her that way.  She had faced, and faced down, monsters and threats aplenty in her own life.  But the things she had seen, the women who hadn’t been as strong as her—like her own sister….  In an instant, Hong knew the essence of Esmeray’s story, and without surrendering her hold or her control, she eased back on the stress to end the deliberate pain.

She shook her head at Hongzhi to pause, considering.  Esmeray was acting as if she had finally figured out what Hong and her girls had known since the moment they’d first engaged:  clearly, Hong was the only decently-trained fighter among them; a match for Esmeray’s size and heavier than her jawari, who were deliberately chosen for being petite, among other stereotypically-female features the succubae considered predictive of success in the tasks they would be assigned.  But…

“I’m sorry.  My Domina’s orders were clear.”  She nodded at Hongzhi to come closer:  “To restrain you.”

“She said if—if!”  Esmeray wailed.  Hong was surprised she had had the presence of mind to register Channah’s words so accurately.  “She said she wanted me conscious and you daren’t let me interrupt her again, I know!  But she said to bind me if!”

“If I can,” Hong finished the sentence, adding reasonably:  “And I can.”

“No!  That’s not true!”

“You doubt my ability to restrain you?” she inquired, momentarily applying more pressure.

“No, no I don’t, I—oh, please don’t!”  And when Hongzhi reached toward her neck with the collar, she began thrashing and resisting again.  “Nonononononononono…..” the protest trailing off into a howl like a wolf, and then into crying.

Hong sighed.  She couldn’t take pleasure in forcing herself on a genuinely unwilling and terrified victim.  She wasn’t a soldier.  And if the woman kept making noise, she’d have to gag her.

“Hongzhi, stop.”  And when Esmeray quieted down, Hong offered:  “I suppose if you’re quiet and still, it is less likely to ‘interrupt’ my Domina than if you’re thrashing and wailing.  Therefore it may be difficult to bind you without interrupting Her more than necessary.”

“Oh, yes,” Esmeray agreed, sighing with relief.  “Yes, please.”

Hong stared at her shoulder blades for a moment and decided, reluctantly:  “Very well.  If you cooperate completely, I will keep my hold on you, not bind you.  But one single spot of resistance—”

“I understand.  I’ll be good Ms. Hong, I promise, I’ll be good.”  She liked that all right, smiling despite herself.

“Good.  Let’s see if you can get to your feet without your left hand.”  Hong stayed still a moment longer, emphasizing her control over the woman, then warned her girls:  “Keep a close eye on her—be ready to shackle her if we need to.”

“Yes, Qahramanah,” her girls nodded, as Hong stood, carefully, maintaining her hold as Esmeray struggled to her feet.

“Jongzhi, rest your shackles across my shoulders in case I need them.  I will walk her over to the display rails.  Please bring her jariya.”

As they started up the stairs, Hong asked:  “Are you afraid of heights?”

“No… not particularly.  Why?”

“Because some people become upset near the edge.  If that happens to you, I will have to chain you in completely, and gag you.”  As they approached it, Esmeray’s angle of view became steeper and steeper; and she was able to see devils who were closer and closer.  As soon as one of them spotted her, the volume of the devils rose again with excitement, and they surged forward like red cattle, packing tighter together than before, even as their agitation increased. 

Esmeray started breathing faster as the reality of where they were headed sank in more strongly.  But to her credit, she did not slow or even flinch.  She allowed herself to be walked to the very edge, where a series of rectangles, like half-height gates with a hinge on the left side of each connecting it to a support post, and a latch on the right side allowing it to be secured to the next post over, served as a low guard rail.

“Continue right up to the rail.  She ordered you to be displayed,” Hong explained pointedly, but not unkindly.  “I have to bind you to the rail.”

“No—”

“Look at it!”  Hong explained.  “It’s for your own safety.  But I can do your ankles only and give you the key so you’ll know you can get out.”  And then softly:  “That’s the best I can do.”

Esmeray hesitated, then nodded, a tiny nod of reluctant assent, as she stepped onto the bottom rail, pressing the tops of her thighs against the upper rail, her face set in stone as Hong knelt and secured her ankles.

Literature Section “06-86 Esmeray’s Torment; Hong’s Mercy”—more material available at TheRemainderman.com—Part 86 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1300 words—Accompanying Images:  1732-1735—Published 2025-05-08—©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.

1633 06-71 The shock of memory
1634 06-71 The thin veil between reality and imagination
1635 06-71 Aging Divas still know how to entertain
1636 06-71 A kind of accompaniment for the Concertmaster

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, a Queen of Hell, for reasons of her own, has married two human transgender girls she is taking through the Hell of Lust to reach their honeymoon destination.  At the foreboding Chang’an Castle, Penny and Chas have been told to open Duchess Fang’s wedding gifts to their Domina, Queen Channah, while the succubae and qahramanat watch.  NOW:

Operant Conditioning

“Oh—I apologize, Domina,” Hong bowed from her position kneeling on her saddle’s back.  “I didn’t—”

“No, it’s fine” Esmeray interrupted hastily, reaching out, almost as if she were fighting her own arm to get it to move.  “I’m sorry,” she murmured quietly, while Hong and the two succubae exchanged significant looks, and the girls scrambled to catch up.  “I—recognize them.  These are for… prisoners.”

“Or in this case, lovers,” Channah clarified gently.  “Not you—ever.  Only the girls.”

Esmeray met her eyes.  “The girls?”

“Only them.  Ever.  I promise.  Using them on the girls might even… help you.”

“Help me?” she frowned.  “To use it on them?”

“Yes.  You may find it… empowering.  But if you never want to use them, it’s fine.  We’ll definitely bring them with us on the honeymoon.  Fang and Hong, they are lovely.  A more fitting gift than you might even have thought.  But it is the very significance and importance of the gift that makes it more serious.”

“What—what are they, Domina?”  Penny asked.

“I know now,” Chas whispered.  “They’re not—exactly what I’ve—seen.”

Channah looked at Chas closely, stood up, approached him, and squatted down beside both girls, surprising them by feeling them.  “But you’re not bothered,” she pronounced.  “At least, not in the same way as Esmeray.  Good.”  She turned to Penny, smiling archly, still holding them both.  “They’re to restrain you girls so you’re helpless for me and I can have my way with you.”  And she gasped when Penny did.  “Good,” she nodded, causing Fang and Hong to exchange an amused glance.  She stood and returned to her seat as Esmeray slowly reached into the box again, pulling out bright red pieces.

“Eyes,” she nodded, considering one of the pieces.  “This one is for the eyes.”  She drew out another.  “And… the mouth?”

“Yes,” Hong confirmed.

Channah was peeking into the package she had opened, and met Fang’s gaze, smiling, before closing it again.  “I’m going to save that one.  Thank you, Fang.  Thank you, Hong.  Thank your benefactors, girls.”

“Thank you, Domina,” the girls chorused.  “Thank you, Hong Qahramanah.”

“You’re very welcome, girls,” Fang and her own wife touched hands.

Trying Out the Wedding Gifts

“I want to be the first to cover their eyes,” Esmeray declared.  Penny and Chas exchanged a nervous look.

“Oh, look at the girls,” Channah smiled.  “Actually…” she considered for a moment, then laughed wickedly.  “I like that idea.  It will let you, Esmeray, have your first chance to observe the girls, and I think it will set the right… mood for the honeymoon.  Let’s release Hong’s girls back to her so she can begin.”  Channah stood again, as the other women imitated her.

“Hong, the Hongettes are yours again.”

“Yes, thank you, Domina,” she curtsied, deciding not to mention or inquire about the nickname.   Instead, she purred:  “Stand and stretch yourselves, bitches.  You need to be ready for hard service again in a minute.”  The four girls, all looking even more excited than before, stretched and rose, loosening up after their service as saddles.

“Esmeray, attend closely today.  First to me, of course.  But you’ll also have plenty of opportunities to observe what to expect when we return next week, and how Hong handles her jawari.  So watch and learn.  And if we’re going to blindfold the girls…” she laughed wickedly.  “They won’t have any idea what’s required of them.  So Esmeray, you’ll have to watch this week extra carefully to learn.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Esmeray agreed.

“First lesson, Esmeray, when you’re managing the girls…” Channah commented, moving so that Chas and Penny were between them both.  “You should always be considering control.  Do you have it, how to keep it, and whether you’re in any danger of losing it.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“With two tops, or dommes, and two bottoms, or subs, in an open area like this one, with no walls or other obstacles to help you corral your subs, I often like to trap the subs between us, the way we are doing right now.”

The girls glanced around in surprise at the first thought of their position, while Esmeray asked:  “What about the edges of the hetaraslakos?  Couldn’t that be a barrier?”

“Very good,” Fang nodded approvingly.   “It’s good to think about how you can use your environment in each moment.

“I agree,” Channah nodded, “but the reason I didn’t want rely on it is because simply backing your girls against a cliff is an active threat which itself is out of your control.  Unlike a wall, which you can usually count on to stay in place and limit not only your sub’s actions, but also to limit the number of environmental factors out of your control.”

“Out of my control?” she asked.

“When we’re ready for edgeplay, literal edgeplay, we might back the girls against the edge of the platforms.”

“Please, no, Dom—” Chas began, hushing when Channah placed her finger on the girl’s lips, otherwise ignoring her.

“Hush. No one is speaking to either of you girls.  It’s adult time now.”  And looking back at Esmeray, she continued with her thought:  “But what if there’s a sudden gust of wind?  Or your girl loses her balance or panics?  Or one of the damned throws an object, either to get your attention or out of frustration?  The damned are usually pretty focused on trying to reach you, but they’re not always the best-reasoned, or therefore predictable, of creatures.  The point is, once you’re sure you have control, you can take your girls to the edge.  But you get total control of your girls first, to limit the number of variables you have to worry about at one time.”

“Yes, Mistress.  Thank you.  That is helpful.”

Behind Esmeray, Hong switched back to Chinese with her girls and they began moving with purpose to form a line before her, listening to her.

Behind Channah, Fang strolled to the band of aging jawari as they finished their piece of music, and spoke with them in rapid-fire Mandarin as they nodded and bowed to her.  Chas looked a bit sad as she watched their interactions.

“What’s the matter, honey bar?” Channah asked curiously, touching Chas’s chin. 

Her eyes flickered to Channah’s, then away again, embarrassed, and she whispered:  “I was wondering… if there was a time Fang looked upon her jawari musicians with the same tenderness she shows now… for…”. Chas forced herself to look back at her and almost linched at the expression of pity in Channah’s eyes. 

“Time is a far crueler mistress than me,” Channah acknowledged.  “I’m sorry, hucow.  But if it’s any consolation, Fang values her old jawari, too.”  She sniggered.  “Dirty old jawari have their uses.  Their desperation to please… is delicious.” 

Satisfied with the orders she had issued, Fang sat on one of the benches, as calmly and precisely as she did everything, mainly focused on Hong, but briefly meeting Chas’s eye, startling her, making her wonder if she had heard the exchange.  Fang winked so that Chas looked back at Channah, then blushed harder and looked down.  Both succubae laughed as the drummers began a new piece, pounding out a much heavier percussive beat than they had before.  Soon, they were joined by a sly and suggestive melody and harmony, and finally, two of the women—one a soprano, the other a tenor—began singing to one another and the world. 

One of the last things Penny noticed before she was blindfolded, was the way the devils and demons below changed their movements and sounds when the music changed.  They were neither singing nor dancing; indeed, they could hardly be described as rhythmic.  And yet, there was something about their movements that was affected by the music from the band; some quality about their voices and expressions that complemented what the orchestra was doing.

Literature Section “06-71 Dance of the Qahramanat VI”—Part 71 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1317 words—Accompanying Images:  1633-1636—Published 2025-04-23—©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.

1623 06-70 RAPUNZEL was less-sheltered than you girls!
1624 06-70 Those aren’t “palaces.”  Are they?
1625 06-70 I don’t think she can get pregnant that way
1626 06-70 So cute!  I wonder what they’re for?

PREVIOUSLY:  Channah, a Queen of Hell, for reasons of her own, has married two human transgender girls she is taking through the Hell of Lust to reach their honeymoon destination.  At the foreboding Chang’an Castle, Penny and Chas have been told to open Duchess Fang’s wedding gifts to their Domina, Queen Channah, while the succubae and qahramanat watch.  NOW:

About Men, Girls, and Dogs

Chas and Penny knelt near the center of the hetaraslakos, surrounded by their four counterparts kneeling in saddle position supporting the girls’ four superiors, and began carefully removing the red paper wrappings from the packages without damaging them.

Esmeray laughed harshly.  “You are girls now,” she decided, amused and slightly contemptuous.  “A man, like a dog, would just rip the paper off to see what was inside.”  And then she laughed again.  “And so would I!”

“You’re admitting you’re a dog?” Hong asked demurely, but not kindly.

Minutes after spoiling to initiate a fight, Esmeray casually waved a hand, unphased in the slightest by an insult that in some cultures was considered quite severe.  “Like a dog.  Even being like a man is better than… this,” she added, as the girls blushed three different shades of red.

“I would do the same,” Channah admitted, causing Hong to redden in turn, as Fang glared at her.  “And I am in no way like a dog.”

“Certainly not, Domina!” Hong agreed insistently, in a strangled voice, and even Esmeray had the presence of mind to murmur her agreement, without taking her eyes off the packages.

Turning her corrective gaze on Esmeray, Channah continued:  “But you are both right, we have worked very hard to support Chas’s and Penny’s development into the demure and proper young ladies they were meant to be.  Girls, I selected Esmeray for you for many reasons, but none of those reasons were to unwind your ladylike decorum and deportment.  You are my wives and I wanted you because of who you are, including the sweet and feminine young ladies you have become.”

“Yes, thank you, Domina,” they agreed, still pink.

“I know you’ve endured worse from your… stepbrothers, who have never understood your path.  Worse, because they meant it hurtfully.  And while I understand their contempt, and Esmeray’s amusement, and even share them to some extent, I never want you to change.  Promise me you will always be my sweet young girls.”

“We promise, Domina,” they murmured, staring fixedly at the contents of their packages but making no move to remove them, their ears burning.

Finally turning her gaze on the girls, she continued:  “Esmeray has not had the opportunities and training Hong has enjoyed all her life.  And I find her inappropriate candor delightfully refreshing, at least among us ladies and girls.  Never in the Show, where all my operatives have important parts to play.”  Her face softening slightly, she glanced back at Esmeray.  “To the extent they can.  But her views on your young womanhood are not among the reasons I chose her for you.  You will of course accept her insults, because she is your Qahramanah.  Try even to enjoy them as part of your training.”

And when she paused, the girls, thus prompted, managed to choke out:  “Yes, Domina.”

“But let her be the man.  I think part of her soul is one, as much as yours are female.  Her male part is necessary for your proper training, but being men—or even boys—is not for you.”  Esmeray, managing to look slightly discomfited herself, nodded as if trying to memorize something important.  Then Channah grinned, becoming jocular again:  “So get on with it, you big girls!”  As Esmeray clapped delightedly.

The Arts of the Spring

“Classic of the White Madam, and Other Spring Palace Illustrations,” Penny read the title of the elegantly-bound book in front of her, in confusion.  “Arts of the Bedchamber,” Chas read hers, her squeaky speech suggesting considerably less confusion.

As soon as they read the titles, Channah burst out laughing as Fang and Hong tittered politely.  “You had them translated into Latin, of all languages?!”

“I understand Latin is becoming a liturgical language in the West.  It seemed more amusing—and marginally less barbaric—than English,” Fang explained.  “Also, knowing barbarians lack subtlety, I asked my corrupted Jesuit missionary to render the words so vulgar and explicit even your girls would be able to understand them.”

“You’re bad,” Channah snickered.  “Look at their faces!” she broke into peals of laughter as the girls, reaching the cover illustration inside, looked like they would crawl into the little packages and wrap themselves up in the used red paper if they could.  “I love how sweet and polite they are!  Esmeray, surely even you can see how charming they are.”

“Perhaps—in moments like these,” she conceded, also enjoying herself.  “They’re so embarrassed!”

“You’d think they were more innocent than they are!  A week ago, yes.  But in the past week…”

“These are translated from the older texts, pre-Confucian in origin.  I’m confident they haven’t tried a twentieth of what is discussed in them,” Fang replied.

“I’m sure you’re right!  Oh, these are perfect wedding gifts, Fang.  Close them up, girls.”

“For such modest girls, they’re very attentive, Domina,” Hong observed.

“They certainly are!  Good students, I should think.”  She clapped her hands sharply.  “Close them!  I don’t want you seeing anything quite yet.  We shall explore these thoroughly all week!”

Channah, Fang, Hong, and even the four Hongettes from their crouched positions, laughed at the idea, while the girls reluctantly obeyed their Domina and set the packages back in the boxes.

“We have a book like this,” Esmeray admitted.  “I have never seen it, but I have heard it mentioned.”

“One Thousand and One Nights!”  Channah nodded thoughtfully.  “Yes, I should look into getting them a copy of that, which they should be able to read in the original.  And perhaps the Indian and ancient Egyptian texts on the subject.”

“Now, girls,” Hong continued, “Rise, set the books by your Domina, and each of you take one of the remaining gifts.”  When they had, Hong, with barely a pause, said:  “Chas, kneel before your Domina with the package.  As close as you can get without crowding her.”  Hong paused, looking questioningly at Fang, who asked:

“With permission, majesty, although the last gift is for your benefit, we had it in mind parts of it might be used, and all of them at least shared, by your girls’ qahramanah.  Would you prefer to open it…?”

“Not at all!  By all means, Penny, kneel before Esmeray as Chas is kneeling before me.” 

“But—this is the largest gift of all!” Esmeray protested as Penny maneuvered it in front of her.  And then, weighing it with one hand without taking it from Penny:  “And the heaviest by far, I would guess.”

“You go first then, child, while I watch,” Channah decided.

“Then hold tight, girlie!” Esmeray cautioned, before ripping the paper with a single swipe of her fingernails, then using her hands to tear open one side of the package instead of opening the top, while the other women laughed at her raw enthusiasm and earnestness.

“Her genuineness does have a… refreshing quality, Domina,” Hong conceded politely.

She started pulling gorgeous, gold-studded, tooled purple leather straps covered with gold buckles and rings, from the box which she and the girls at first stared at in confusion, before Esmeray suddenly tightened like a watchspring, gasped in recognition, and threw them violently back in the box, looking horrified.

Literature Section “06-70 Dance of the Qahramanat V”—Part 70 of Chapter Six, “Le Saccage de la Sale Bête Rouge” (“Rampage of the Dirty Red Beast”)—1197 words—Accompanying Images:  1623-1626—Published 2025-04-22—©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.