windar
Teller of Tales
Oh, Madi! That is the BEST one yet!!! Fantastic!!
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Barb Behind Bars
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
22.
...
Cindy Chao was lying back on one of the cots, pressing Barb’s head into her crotch. “Come on cop bitch,” she said, a bit breathlessly. “You owe me. It’s because of you that I’m in this shithole.” Stan could have interjected that it had been her own behavior that had pushed at least two young women to kill themselves that was responsible.
...
Cindy Chao was lying back on one of the cots, pressing Barb’s head into her crotch. “Come on cop bitch,” she said, a bit breathlessly. “You owe me. It’s because of you that I’m in this shithole.” Stan could have interjected that it had been her own behavior that had pushed at least two young women to kill themselves that was responsible.
26.
At long last, we managed to cover the distance from our starting point to the far end of the arena, carrying our crosses all the way.
Warden announced a halt, and we gratefully dropped our crosses ... only to be seized and dragged to that large stout-looking post that had been erected at the far end of the arena during intermission. They shackled us together against it, arms over head.
A tug on my hips and my loincloth was ripped away.
"Oh Shit!" I breathed to Deb. "This is bad!"
“Proceed with the scourging!” crowed Warden, his excitement tenting the front of his toga.
Two of the guests were clamoring to do the honors, and I immediately recognized Judge Pennyworth’s voice as he declared his intention to be the one to do the ‘ex-Detective’.
“Ready begin!” urged Warden. “Let’s see some blood!”
Shoulders and flanks touching, Deb and I braced ... hearts pounding, foreheads resting against the post ... for what was sure to come.
Momentarily turning her head toward me, she hissed, “Did I hear you start to call that guard, Porter, ‘Goldman’ back there? You did, didn't you? I thought there was something familiar about that face. It’s him behind that beard, isn’t it? You two are still cops, aren’t you? And you’re here undercover!”
I was about to deny it, but just as I opened my mouth, the multi-thonged tips of a pair of scourges ripped simultaneously across our bare backs, slamming our bodies hard against the unyielding post and into one another ... and converting my intended words of denial into a long full-throated scream.
The scourging went on for several minutes ... a relentless beating that flayed our backsides from the tops of our thighs to our shoulder blades, and left us both breathless and bloodied.
When they had finished, our wrists were released from the overhead cuffs and we sank slowly ... locked, arms wrapped around one another in a face-to-face embrace ... to our knees before toppling over onto our sides.
"Move 'em out!" ordered Warden. "To the crosses!"
Eager hands grabbed us by the wrists and dragged our limp bodies to the waiting crosses ... the heels of our feet leaving furrows in the hot sand to either side of the blood-streaked shallow depression left by our butts.
As they dragged me over and onto my cross, my tailbone bumped against the base of its stipe, and my scourged back grated painfully against the rough wood. Deb groaned as they picked her up and threw her roughly down on her cross, which lay alongside mine.
Our arms were immediately seized and stretched out along the crossbeams to where they would be bound in place. Tilting my head, I looked up through teary eyes to see Stan ... who had a look of intense concentration on his face and was studiously avoiding eye contact. He was busily focused on securing my left hand to the beam ... using a length of rope which he wound around my hand several times, threading the last of it through my fingers, before wrapping it around a notch in the beam and tying it snugly. One of the other guards was assigned to binding my other arm in the required outstretched position.
Meanwhile, the clients and the other girls, clad in their Roman garb, or in various states of undress, crowded excitedly around. A few, undoubtedly overcome with sexual excitement, were busy copulating in the sand nearby.
"Time to ravish the condemned!" announced Warden, rubbing his hands together with exaggerated relish. "Who's to be first?"
"Me!" replied the corpulent one, whom I was by then absolutely certain was none other than Judge Pennyworth, the man who had sent me to Newtown. "I want to be the first to screw ex-Detective Moore!"
Several others chimed in, and two lines quickly began to form, one at the foot of my cross and the other at the foot of Deb's.
Pennyworth got his wish ... and was soon huffing and puffing, as he struggled out of his toga, and kicking at my ankles so as to spread my legs wide enough for his girth. Kneeling between my knees and straddling the main beam of my cross, he began probing my pussy and working my clit with his stubby fingers while his massive hard cock bounced about, eager for the moment.
Here it comes, I disgustedly though to myself.
But suddenly looking up, Pennyworth stopped what he was up to long enough to say, "Wait a minute! I thought we were going for realism here. Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't the Romans use nails? Of course, they did! Where are the nails?"
“Yes! Nails! We must have nails!” responded a chorus of voices.
My gaze shifted to Warden, who looked uncomfortable as he replied, "Well, yes ... I believe the Romans did ... but we thought that might be going a little too far."
"I certainly don't see why?" grunted Pennyworth as he returned to burying his stubby fingers deep inside my loins.
"Well, perhaps just the wrists," allowed Warden hesitantly. By the look on his face I could see that he obviously was weighing in his mind whether to risk displeasing a client as important to his operation as Pennyworth apparently was. "No nailing of their feet though ... just their wrists to the crossbeam ... I need these inmates to be able to walk and work when this is over."
And right on cue, Matron suddenly appeared, literally out of nowhere so it seemed, pushing her way through the crush of onlookers, carrying a cloth sack in one hand a hammer in the other.
Warden, nodded affirmatively in her direction. She nodded back and, with a meaningful look, placed the sack and hammer in Stan's hands. I watched as Stan's face twitched. Pained indecision crossed his countenance. He seemed frozen in place.
Deb, who was literally being crushed at that moment under the full weight of a man thrice her size, who was raping her with furious abandon, managed to turn her head to me and blurt out, "Come on Moore! Tell your lover boy to refuse!"
I blanched. Stan looked startled. But no one else seemed to notice, because at that very moment Pennyworth decided it was time his throbbing member got some action. With one great thrust and a war whoop, he drove it deep inside me, diverting my attention, and everyone else's, away from Deb's plea and Stan's indecision. I groaned as I was brutally impaled on the judge's shaft, and as my scourged backside was painfully driven along the wood by the sheer force of his thrust.
When I recovered enough to turn my attention back to Stan, his countenance had changed. There was no expression at all on his face ... just a strange distant look, as though he was in a trance. Mechanically, he moved toward me, dropped to one knee, rummaged about in the cloth bag that he had laid on the sand, and withdrew a long wicked-looking spike. He turned it over once or twice in his hand. I saw his Adam's apple move up and down several times. Then he leaned forward, placing the point on my wrist at exactly the place that bore a faint scar from my earlier crucifixion at the hands of those crazies in that Bronx murder case.
"Noooooo!" I cried. "Please!!!"
"My God!" gasped Deb.
The point of the spike moved slightly in adjustment and then pressed into my flesh.
Unable to turn away, I raised my head to watch ... mouth wide open in unspoken terror ... as Stan raised the hammer over the spike ... but there it remained, frozen in place.
Meanwhile Deb’s attacker had finished and rolled free, to be replaced by the next in line, and Pennyworth continued his seemingly endless rutting.
Stan did nothing!
Matron, who was standing behind him, finally lost patience. Moving swiftly she shoved Stan aside, snatching both nail and hammer from him.
“Gimme room!” she bellowed as she knelt in the sand, reset the point of the spike on my wrist, raised the hammer and, without a moment's delay, brought it down hard ... striking and driving the nail straight through my wrist and deep into the wood.
At long last, we managed to cover the distance from our starting point to the far end of the arena, carrying our crosses all the way.
Warden announced a halt, and we gratefully dropped our crosses ... only to be seized and dragged to that large stout-looking post that had been erected at the far end of the arena during intermission. They shackled us together against it, arms over head.
A tug on my hips and my loincloth was ripped away.
"Oh Shit!" I breathed to Deb. "This is bad!"
“Proceed with the scourging!” crowed Warden, his excitement tenting the front of his toga.
Two of the guests were clamoring to do the honors, and I immediately recognized Judge Pennyworth’s voice as he declared his intention to be the one to do the ‘ex-Detective’.
“Ready begin!” urged Warden. “Let’s see some blood!”
Shoulders and flanks touching, Deb and I braced ... hearts pounding, foreheads resting against the post ... for what was sure to come.
Momentarily turning her head toward me, she hissed, “Did I hear you start to call that guard, Porter, ‘Goldman’ back there? You did, didn't you? I thought there was something familiar about that face. It’s him behind that beard, isn’t it? You two are still cops, aren’t you? And you’re here undercover!”
I was about to deny it, but just as I opened my mouth, the multi-thonged tips of a pair of scourges ripped simultaneously across our bare backs, slamming our bodies hard against the unyielding post and into one another ... and converting my intended words of denial into a long full-throated scream.
The scourging went on for several minutes ... a relentless beating that flayed our backsides from the tops of our thighs to our shoulder blades, and left us both breathless and bloodied.
When they had finished, our wrists were released from the overhead cuffs and we sank slowly ... locked, arms wrapped around one another in a face-to-face embrace ... to our knees before toppling over onto our sides.
"Move 'em out!" ordered Warden. "To the crosses!"
Eager hands grabbed us by the wrists and dragged our limp bodies to the waiting crosses ... the heels of our feet leaving furrows in the hot sand to either side of the blood-streaked shallow depression left by our butts.
As they dragged me over and onto my cross, my tailbone bumped against the base of its stipe, and my scourged back grated painfully against the rough wood. Deb groaned as they picked her up and threw her roughly down on her cross, which lay alongside mine.
Our arms were immediately seized and stretched out along the crossbeams to where they would be bound in place. Tilting my head, I looked up through teary eyes to see Stan ... who had a look of intense concentration on his face and was studiously avoiding eye contact. He was busily focused on securing my left hand to the beam ... using a length of rope which he wound around my hand several times, threading the last of it through my fingers, before wrapping it around a notch in the beam and tying it snugly. One of the other guards was assigned to binding my other arm in the required outstretched position.
Meanwhile, the clients and the other girls, clad in their Roman garb, or in various states of undress, crowded excitedly around. A few, undoubtedly overcome with sexual excitement, were busy copulating in the sand nearby.
"Time to ravish the condemned!" announced Warden, rubbing his hands together with exaggerated relish. "Who's to be first?"
"Me!" replied the corpulent one, whom I was by then absolutely certain was none other than Judge Pennyworth, the man who had sent me to Newtown. "I want to be the first to screw ex-Detective Moore!"
Several others chimed in, and two lines quickly began to form, one at the foot of my cross and the other at the foot of Deb's.
Pennyworth got his wish ... and was soon huffing and puffing, as he struggled out of his toga, and kicking at my ankles so as to spread my legs wide enough for his girth. Kneeling between my knees and straddling the main beam of my cross, he began probing my pussy and working my clit with his stubby fingers while his massive hard cock bounced about, eager for the moment.
Here it comes, I disgustedly though to myself.
But suddenly looking up, Pennyworth stopped what he was up to long enough to say, "Wait a minute! I thought we were going for realism here. Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't the Romans use nails? Of course, they did! Where are the nails?"
“Yes! Nails! We must have nails!” responded a chorus of voices.
My gaze shifted to Warden, who looked uncomfortable as he replied, "Well, yes ... I believe the Romans did ... but we thought that might be going a little too far."
"I certainly don't see why?" grunted Pennyworth as he returned to burying his stubby fingers deep inside my loins.
"Well, perhaps just the wrists," allowed Warden hesitantly. By the look on his face I could see that he obviously was weighing in his mind whether to risk displeasing a client as important to his operation as Pennyworth apparently was. "No nailing of their feet though ... just their wrists to the crossbeam ... I need these inmates to be able to walk and work when this is over."
And right on cue, Matron suddenly appeared, literally out of nowhere so it seemed, pushing her way through the crush of onlookers, carrying a cloth sack in one hand a hammer in the other.
Warden, nodded affirmatively in her direction. She nodded back and, with a meaningful look, placed the sack and hammer in Stan's hands. I watched as Stan's face twitched. Pained indecision crossed his countenance. He seemed frozen in place.
Deb, who was literally being crushed at that moment under the full weight of a man thrice her size, who was raping her with furious abandon, managed to turn her head to me and blurt out, "Come on Moore! Tell your lover boy to refuse!"
I blanched. Stan looked startled. But no one else seemed to notice, because at that very moment Pennyworth decided it was time his throbbing member got some action. With one great thrust and a war whoop, he drove it deep inside me, diverting my attention, and everyone else's, away from Deb's plea and Stan's indecision. I groaned as I was brutally impaled on the judge's shaft, and as my scourged backside was painfully driven along the wood by the sheer force of his thrust.
When I recovered enough to turn my attention back to Stan, his countenance had changed. There was no expression at all on his face ... just a strange distant look, as though he was in a trance. Mechanically, he moved toward me, dropped to one knee, rummaged about in the cloth bag that he had laid on the sand, and withdrew a long wicked-looking spike. He turned it over once or twice in his hand. I saw his Adam's apple move up and down several times. Then he leaned forward, placing the point on my wrist at exactly the place that bore a faint scar from my earlier crucifixion at the hands of those crazies in that Bronx murder case.
"Noooooo!" I cried. "Please!!!"
"My God!" gasped Deb.
The point of the spike moved slightly in adjustment and then pressed into my flesh.
Unable to turn away, I raised my head to watch ... mouth wide open in unspoken terror ... as Stan raised the hammer over the spike ... but there it remained, frozen in place.
Meanwhile Deb’s attacker had finished and rolled free, to be replaced by the next in line, and Pennyworth continued his seemingly endless rutting.
Stan did nothing!
Matron, who was standing behind him, finally lost patience. Moving swiftly she shoved Stan aside, snatching both nail and hammer from him.
“Gimme room!” she bellowed as she knelt in the sand, reset the point of the spike on my wrist, raised the hammer and, without a moment's delay, brought it down hard ... striking and driving the nail straight through my wrist and deep into the wood.
Attachments
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The scourging went on for several minutes ... a relentless beating that flayed our backsides from the tops of our thighs to our shoulder blades, and left us both breathless and bloodied. When they had finished, our wrists were released from the overhead cuffs and we sank slowly ... locked, arms wrapped around one another in a face-to-face embrace ... to our knees before toppling over onto our sides.
Sisters in pain, Barb and Deb embrace each other, breathless and bloody. What a sight they must make!
"Time to ravish the condemned!" announced Warden, rubbing his hands together with exaggerated relish. "Who's to be first?"
Ah, the words we've been waiting to hear
"Me!" replied the corpulent one, whom I was by then absolutely certain was none other than Judge Pennyworth, the man who had sent me to Newtown. "I want to be the first to screw ex-Detective Moore!"
Such behaviour for a man of the Bench. But who can blame him? Barb's tight if bloody little behind is a sight which few of us can resist.
“Gimme room!” she bellowed as she knelt in the sand, reset the point of the spike on my wrist, raised the hammer and, without a moment's delay, brought it down hard ... striking and driving the nail straight through my wrist and deep into the wood.
The female is more deadly, and more heartless, than the male. Blood and pain clearly don't phase the matron of a women's prison.
Great episode Barb, so well drawn for us. Get off your knees, Pennyworth you fat bastard, and let the rest of us have a go!
Sisters in pain, Barb and Deb embrace each other, breathless and bloody. What a sight they must make!
"Time to ravish the condemned!" announced Warden, rubbing his hands together with exaggerated relish. "Who's to be first?"
Ah, the words we've been waiting to hear
"Me!" replied the corpulent one, whom I was by then absolutely certain was none other than Judge Pennyworth, the man who had sent me to Newtown. "I want to be the first to screw ex-Detective Moore!"
Such behaviour for a man of the Bench. But who can blame him? Barb's tight if bloody little behind is a sight which few of us can resist.
“Gimme room!” she bellowed as she knelt in the sand, reset the point of the spike on my wrist, raised the hammer and, without a moment's delay, brought it down hard ... striking and driving the nail straight through my wrist and deep into the wood.
The female is more deadly, and more heartless, than the male. Blood and pain clearly don't phase the matron of a women's prison.
Great episode Barb, so well drawn for us. Get off your knees, Pennyworth you fat bastard, and let the rest of us have a go!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Oh-Oh! Cover blown!
It looks like we have a cliffhanger here! I hope Porter/Goldman has warned the cavalry in advance!
I do not see this situation solved by Goldman reading Pennyworth's rights anyway!
Help needed!
I must go for a few hours out house. I want made a image for chapter 23 BBB. I remind me on a few images of a whipping challenge/duel but I can't find it fast for cut out. It would help me, when you find it for me. Maybe in a whipping thread. I think the set had a withe background and the bodys was oily.
I guess als, it was a elitepain-session.
Thank you for helping me!
I must go for a few hours out house. I want made a image for chapter 23 BBB. I remind me on a few images of a whipping challenge/duel but I can't find it fast for cut out. It would help me, when you find it for me. Maybe in a whipping thread. I think the set had a withe background and the bodys was oily.
I guess als, it was a elitepain-session.
Thank you for helping me!
Yeah, right! Thank you!
Hmm, a bit little.....
Google “nude whipping duel”
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
Don't worry Barb, it's nothing you havn't had before, remember.........
.......
.......and now you've had plenty of practice, Stan won't need you to use your hands as much, your mouth will suffice.
Sharkman
Governor
Uuhhh ... Barb the Pinup-Girl, gets nailed twice ... sure yes, you are right, Pennyworth's hammer as well ... three times.
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Thanks phleb. He is quite a scumbag, isn’t he?
I do not see this situation solved by Goldman reading Pennyworth's rights anyway!
Yes, things do look rather bleak
23.
...
I felt a tug on my other wrist as, behind me, Deb was maneuvering and vigorously cracking her whip in an attempt to hold Buckner and Rodriguez at bay. The distraction cut short my advantage over a fallen Greene. Chao was quick to advance on me with a rapid-fire series of strikes from which I backed away unscathed, but in the process backed into a lightening strike by Buckner that ripped across my back at shoulder-blades height.
"Owwww," I screamed as I staggered forward under the force of the searing blow ... straight into Chao's range. A viciously sharp lash struck right across my chest, catching me square on the nipples, wrapping around my back, spinning me around and toppling me onto the sand. I rolled from my side to my back and ran my hand across the burning wound on my chest. It came away smeared with blood!
...
I felt a tug on my other wrist as, behind me, Deb was maneuvering and vigorously cracking her whip in an attempt to hold Buckner and Rodriguez at bay. The distraction cut short my advantage over a fallen Greene. Chao was quick to advance on me with a rapid-fire series of strikes from which I backed away unscathed, but in the process backed into a lightening strike by Buckner that ripped across my back at shoulder-blades height.
"Owwww," I screamed as I staggered forward under the force of the searing blow ... straight into Chao's range. A viciously sharp lash struck right across my chest, catching me square on the nipples, wrapping around my back, spinning me around and toppling me onto the sand. I rolled from my side to my back and ran my hand across the burning wound on my chest. It came away smeared with blood!
Sharkman
Governor
Madiosi's impressive, vivid illustrations!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Good work, Madiosi!
I keep coming back to this episode, I can't help myself! The thought of those girls, arms bound to the wood, legs apart, forced to service these disgusting men . . .
Our arms were immediately seized and stretched out along the crossbeams to where they would be bound in place. Tilting my head, I looked up through teary eyes to see Stan ... who had a look of intense concentration on his face and was studiously avoiding eye contact. He was busily focused on securing my left hand to the beam ... using a length of rope which he wound around my hand several times, threading the last of it through my fingers, before wrapping it around a notch in the beam and tying it snugly. One of the other guards was assigned to binding my other arm in the required outstretched position.
"Time to ravish the condemned!" announced Warden, rubbing his hands together with exaggerated relish. "Who's to be first?"
"Me!" replied the corpulent one, whom I was by then absolutely certain was none other than Judge Pennyworth, the man who had sent me to Newtown. "I want to be the first to screw ex-Detective Moore!"
Several others chimed in, and two lines quickly began to form, one at the foot of my cross and the other at the foot of Deb's.
"Oh shit!" Thought Barb.
Pennyworth got his wish ... and was soon huffing and puffing, as he struggled out of his toga, and kicking at my ankles so as to spread my legs wide enough for his girth. Kneeling between my knees and straddling the main beam of my cross, he began probing my pussy and working my clit with his stubby fingers while his massive hard cock bounced about, eager for the moment.
Here it comes, I disgustedly though to myself.
Our arms were immediately seized and stretched out along the crossbeams to where they would be bound in place. Tilting my head, I looked up through teary eyes to see Stan ... who had a look of intense concentration on his face and was studiously avoiding eye contact. He was busily focused on securing my left hand to the beam ... using a length of rope which he wound around my hand several times, threading the last of it through my fingers, before wrapping it around a notch in the beam and tying it snugly. One of the other guards was assigned to binding my other arm in the required outstretched position.
"Time to ravish the condemned!" announced Warden, rubbing his hands together with exaggerated relish. "Who's to be first?"
"Me!" replied the corpulent one, whom I was by then absolutely certain was none other than Judge Pennyworth, the man who had sent me to Newtown. "I want to be the first to screw ex-Detective Moore!"
Several others chimed in, and two lines quickly began to form, one at the foot of my cross and the other at the foot of Deb's.
"Oh shit!" Thought Barb.
Pennyworth got his wish ... and was soon huffing and puffing, as he struggled out of his toga, and kicking at my ankles so as to spread my legs wide enough for his girth. Kneeling between my knees and straddling the main beam of my cross, he began probing my pussy and working my clit with his stubby fingers while his massive hard cock bounced about, eager for the moment.
Here it comes, I disgustedly though to myself.
These things are anything but comfy to lie on!
Here it comes, I disgustedly though to myself.
Who let RR and his camera in here?
Sharkman
Governor
Yes, here it comes ...
Madiosi, CF most famous illustrator! The whip marks are missing!And it can be a good idea to prepare a spiky crown of thorns. Barb, believe us it maybe feel like a halo.
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