Somehow I think Pp is displeased with me 
I seem to detect a note of defensiveness in his reply, which also translates into a note of redness on my tight little.
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Barbara Moore - Mission Improbable Or Coup And Cocaine
- Thread starter Primus pilus
- Start date
Somehow I think Pp is displeased with me I seem to detect a note of defensiveness in his reply, which also translates into a note of redness on my tight little.
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
He thought reddening Barb's tight little ... was important to match the blushing of her .... .View attachment 206119 Somehow I think Pp is displeased with me
I seem to detect a note of defensiveness in his reply, which also translates into a note of redness on my tight little.
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Pp is inclined to offer Eulalia a corrective interview after she referred to his clutches as "evil"!I should think so. The slave-owners who run such respectable bodies
will be all too aware how strongly such writing will provoke currently docile slavegirls
into joining the rebellion (and queueing up to get into Pp's evil clutches)!
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Barbara Moore - Mission Improbable - Final Episode
The same black Chevvie van that had delivered the two young women from their hotel barely five nights ago slips quietly out of police headquarters and into a back laneway. The darkened windows prevent any glimpse of the occupants but the streets are empty. A dusk to dawn curfew is in place and is being rigidly enforced with armed troops on almost every corner.
The front of the van has only a driver, Pp's most trusted lieutenant. There are no guards. Barbara Moore sits on one aide of the rear seat. Siss Little sits on the other and, in the cente sits Pp, their interrogator. The two women are dressed in simple short, blue shifts and wear thin canvass shoes. They both have black blindfolds wound firmly around their heads, their wrists cuffed behind their backs. Barbara leans against her interrogator and her breast is crushed against his ribs as his left hand sits on her leg, his fingers gently rubbing her inner thigh. The blonde's head faces forward but, every minute or two, she cocks her head to listen for her charge. The three sit in silence.
Barbara is still stunned by the turn her mission has taken. She remembers the police smashing into their hotel room just minutes after she had finally succumbed to Siss's advance and her mind wanders through the interrogation and the physical and mental torture he had inflicted on her and on her Agency guardian. It had taken Pp less than 24 hours to extract everything about her mission. She had tried to admit to smuggling the planted cocaine but he knew that was a feint and he had cut her admission short before playing her mind and body on the brutal horse until her confession had flowed.
For two more days and nights he had kept the women in the darkened soundproofed room, naked, blindfolded and gagged, chained in opposite corners. He was their only human contact and he came to them late at night and early each morning to give them food and water. He would release them and allow them 30 minutes to hold each other before they would compliantly follow his order to part.
On the fourth day he brought Moore's cell phone and she was ordered to call her contact amongst the coup plotters to arrange to meet. He had given Barbara instructions on what to say and she found herself following those without demur.
With a meeting arranged Moore had been used as bait and, as she handed over a camera bag containing the bonds, the police had swooped. She had been whisked back to police headquarters immediately and she had no idea what had happened to the plotters.
There had been a trial of sorts with the two girls kept kneeling naked, side by in front of three army officers, chained together, humiliated.
The only witness was their interrogator and the only evidence the tape of Barbara's confession. Moore remembers Siss arguing, fighting but silenced every time. Deprived of any kind of Embassy support and denied any legal access both women were sentenced to execution as spies but this would not be public. The people would never know of the attempted coup and Little knew that the Agency would also want to keep the failure from the US public.
Neither Moore nor Little know where they are being taken and they do not know that the Chevvie has left the city streets but they can hear the crunch of gravel under the wheels as the van turns off the sealed road. The Chevvie stops, the rear door is opened and Pp steadies Barbara as he leads her out of the van.
His lieutenant escorts Siss out and the pair feel soft grass under their canvass shoes as they are led away from the gravel road. The air is warm and humid and sweat soon leaves dark stains on the front and back of the simple shifts they wear. The four walk for a couple of minutes before the women feel cooler air and Barbara senses that they have entered a grove of trees. As Pp tightens his grip on Barbara's arm and stops her she feels her toes kick a clod of earth and she tenses. She reaches with her toe but feels nothing but the odour of newly-turned earth assaults her nostrils. The image of a freshly dug pit flashes across her consciousness.
His lieutenant brings Siss to a halt close beside Moore and Barbara hears her blonde lover whisper, "this is the end Barb. Stay strong and it will be over quickly." Barbara hears the blonde breathing deeply, steadily and she tries to match her own breathing to that. It is calming.
Pp orders his lieuteneant back to the car. "I will do this alone. You need not see the end," and Barbara hears the rasp of steel on leather as he draws his pistol. He releases his grip on her arm, brings his lips close to the brunette's ear and whispers, "stand still. Do not run," and Barbara knows there is no point. There is a metallic snick as he cocks the silenced pistol and Barbara hears a half-loud pop, a grunt then a dull thump as her lover's body spils forward and crumples in the dirt.
The brunette's body tenses as Pp brings the muzzle of his pistol to her breast. It is her turn to die now. "I'm sorry it must be this way, Barbara, but I have no choice. It must be done." Barbara feels his hand touch her shoulder before running down and cupping, caressing her breast.
In spite of her fear she feels her nipple respond to his fingers. She pushes herself close to him and he is force to move his gun as she moves her face towards him, then she feels the muzzle against her head.
There is a faint click then a sudden thud to the side of head and she feels herself fall into blackness.
As her mind fades she hears one voice. "Is it done?" Then a second, her interrogator, "it is over."
The same black Chevvie van that had delivered the two young women from their hotel barely five nights ago slips quietly out of police headquarters and into a back laneway. The darkened windows prevent any glimpse of the occupants but the streets are empty. A dusk to dawn curfew is in place and is being rigidly enforced with armed troops on almost every corner.
The front of the van has only a driver, Pp's most trusted lieutenant. There are no guards. Barbara Moore sits on one aide of the rear seat. Siss Little sits on the other and, in the cente sits Pp, their interrogator. The two women are dressed in simple short, blue shifts and wear thin canvass shoes. They both have black blindfolds wound firmly around their heads, their wrists cuffed behind their backs. Barbara leans against her interrogator and her breast is crushed against his ribs as his left hand sits on her leg, his fingers gently rubbing her inner thigh. The blonde's head faces forward but, every minute or two, she cocks her head to listen for her charge. The three sit in silence.
Barbara is still stunned by the turn her mission has taken. She remembers the police smashing into their hotel room just minutes after she had finally succumbed to Siss's advance and her mind wanders through the interrogation and the physical and mental torture he had inflicted on her and on her Agency guardian. It had taken Pp less than 24 hours to extract everything about her mission. She had tried to admit to smuggling the planted cocaine but he knew that was a feint and he had cut her admission short before playing her mind and body on the brutal horse until her confession had flowed.
For two more days and nights he had kept the women in the darkened soundproofed room, naked, blindfolded and gagged, chained in opposite corners. He was their only human contact and he came to them late at night and early each morning to give them food and water. He would release them and allow them 30 minutes to hold each other before they would compliantly follow his order to part.
On the fourth day he brought Moore's cell phone and she was ordered to call her contact amongst the coup plotters to arrange to meet. He had given Barbara instructions on what to say and she found herself following those without demur.
With a meeting arranged Moore had been used as bait and, as she handed over a camera bag containing the bonds, the police had swooped. She had been whisked back to police headquarters immediately and she had no idea what had happened to the plotters.
There had been a trial of sorts with the two girls kept kneeling naked, side by in front of three army officers, chained together, humiliated.
The only witness was their interrogator and the only evidence the tape of Barbara's confession. Moore remembers Siss arguing, fighting but silenced every time. Deprived of any kind of Embassy support and denied any legal access both women were sentenced to execution as spies but this would not be public. The people would never know of the attempted coup and Little knew that the Agency would also want to keep the failure from the US public.
Neither Moore nor Little know where they are being taken and they do not know that the Chevvie has left the city streets but they can hear the crunch of gravel under the wheels as the van turns off the sealed road. The Chevvie stops, the rear door is opened and Pp steadies Barbara as he leads her out of the van.
His lieutenant escorts Siss out and the pair feel soft grass under their canvass shoes as they are led away from the gravel road. The air is warm and humid and sweat soon leaves dark stains on the front and back of the simple shifts they wear. The four walk for a couple of minutes before the women feel cooler air and Barbara senses that they have entered a grove of trees. As Pp tightens his grip on Barbara's arm and stops her she feels her toes kick a clod of earth and she tenses. She reaches with her toe but feels nothing but the odour of newly-turned earth assaults her nostrils. The image of a freshly dug pit flashes across her consciousness.
His lieutenant brings Siss to a halt close beside Moore and Barbara hears her blonde lover whisper, "this is the end Barb. Stay strong and it will be over quickly." Barbara hears the blonde breathing deeply, steadily and she tries to match her own breathing to that. It is calming.
Pp orders his lieuteneant back to the car. "I will do this alone. You need not see the end," and Barbara hears the rasp of steel on leather as he draws his pistol. He releases his grip on her arm, brings his lips close to the brunette's ear and whispers, "stand still. Do not run," and Barbara knows there is no point. There is a metallic snick as he cocks the silenced pistol and Barbara hears a half-loud pop, a grunt then a dull thump as her lover's body spils forward and crumples in the dirt.
The brunette's body tenses as Pp brings the muzzle of his pistol to her breast. It is her turn to die now. "I'm sorry it must be this way, Barbara, but I have no choice. It must be done." Barbara feels his hand touch her shoulder before running down and cupping, caressing her breast.
In spite of her fear she feels her nipple respond to his fingers. She pushes herself close to him and he is force to move his gun as she moves her face towards him, then she feels the muzzle against her head.
There is a faint click then a sudden thud to the side of head and she feels herself fall into blackness.
As her mind fades she hears one voice. "Is it done?" Then a second, her interrogator, "it is over."
Wouldn't you know it? Our friggin own country won't even acknowledge our existence after all this sacrifice. Where is the justice in that? Well at least the guy allowed the two of us a few nice 30 minute sessions together.
But now this remote location execution ... right out of a spy novel .... this is it....I hear Siss' body hit the dirt....I am next....shit.... owwww.....hey wait, I hear voices...am I dead?
Once again I'm in mourning
No, Barb, not for you, you'll live to fight another day
It's because the story has finished
But, Pp:
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Thanks Wragg. Pp's first long effort here and he really did enjoy writing, especially with some careful coaching from Barb and Siss and with one very special piece of help from Eulalia.Once again I'm in mourning
No, Barb, not for you, you'll live to fight another day
It's because the story has finished
But, Pp:
He also gratefully acknowledges Top-Cat for contributing some great images.
Pp really does say thank you to those who contributed but he also must thank those who took the time to read about Barbara and Siss Little and who posted encouraging replies through the suffering they endured along their perilous pathway.
Primus pilus
I do thank you, Primus pilus.
For me it was very rewarding to help a little in its history.
You have every merit of the story, congratulations!
Bring on the next one!
Top Cat
And I am feeling grateful for that carefully missed shot and the soft knock on the head as I crawl away through the mud from that remote execution pit and wonder why he chose to spare my life? Was it kindness, was it lust, or did he just intend to do it to me all over again in another adventure?
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Indestructible
Primus pilus
Magister Australis
Indestructible
Or indefatigable? And Pp says this in the nicest possible way - unwearied, unflagging, tireless.....he is sure Barb will be ready for a new adventure soon.
pontiopilato
Governor
I wonder why he chose to spare my life. Was it kindness, lust or did he intend to do it to me again in another adventure?
Perhaps he was a really bad shot?
Perhaps he was a really bad shot?