The Big Scoop

[Boccaccio]

"Alphonso!" snapped the Don. "Be a good chap and make a phone call. Tell Wu that we have a nice little piece of ass that would be a perfect addition to the next consignment of his white slave trade. And tell him that we won't charge him a cent for her."

What the fuck? A pretty piece of ass like that, and he's going to give 'er away? If a dame tried to pull a fast one on me, I'd have Gino and Rocco work 'er over again, and call in all my capos so that they could sample the goods. When she was done pullin't the train, I'd put 'er to work servicing my special clients, the ones that like to play rough.

But send 'er to fuckin' China? Not a chance.

Don Ernesto

 

[fat slave girl]

Giggle snort

Hopefully it won't end up in a fake whipping....

 

[Boccaccio]

A length of rope appeared out of nowhere. With the help of the two body guards, Jocko dragged me to the center of the room, bound my wrists together and strung me up, running the free end of the rope binding my wrists through a large iron ring bolted to the ceiling.

I hung, stretched out and straining, arms over head and wide-eyed as Jocko circled round, brandishing a black leather multi-tailed whip. Fear gripped me in its awful embrace. I knew I was completely helpless, totally exposed and unprepared for the vicious whipping I was about to receive.

'Jocko would a-Wu-ing go,' Don Ernesto hummed to himself as he pictured the beautiful young reporter, naked and helpless, her nude body jerking in agony each time Jocko's lash ripped into her lovely young body.



Outstanding episode, Barbaria. I trust that Jocko's swing will be in good form as we go forward ...

 

[Boccaccio]

He made false lunges and feints, weaving about and withdrawing at the last second ... and small teasing gestures, such as coming in close and softly laying the end of his whip high on my chest and then allowing the whiptails to slide down, catch and hang on my erect nipples.

"C'mon Jocko. Quit playin' games. Let 'er have it!"

Don Ernesto

 

[Boccaccio]

Before long he had completely frayed my nerves. I flinched every time he moved, even though no lash would be forthcoming. But when he did strike, It was swift and hard and perfectly aimed, targeting with unerring precision my tender nipples, the soft undersides of my breasts, the taut downward slope of my tummy, lmy shoulder blades, and the coup de grace between my thighs when he finally succeeded in tricking me into parting them.

"Attaboy, Jocko!" Don Ernesto growled. "Give it to 'er good!"

"What the fuck? 'Coup de grace?' What the fuck is that? Does that mean 'that's it?.' "No mas? The party's over?"

"The fucking chink chinkened out," the Don cursed irritably. "Hope this Zamboni's got more spine than the Chinaman did!"

 

[Barbaria1]

'Jocko would a-Wu-ing go,' Don Ernesto hummed to himself as he pictured the beautiful young reporter, naked and helpless, her nude body jerking in agony each time Jocko's lash ripped into her lovely young body.

View attachment 473414

Outstanding episode, Barbaria. I trust that Jocko's swing will be in good form as we go forward ...

Your trust is well-placed Don Ernesto

 

[Boccaccio]

My assignment was to write a blockbuster expose on what went on in the murky depths of the city's underworld. I reckoned that I probably had collected enough material already to write that Pulitzer Prize piece. All I needed to do was to somehow get out of my current predicament alive.

It's a shame that the Pulitzer Prize for Feature Photography wasn't awarded until 1968. I wouldn't mind seeing some stills of our crack reporter hard at work.

 

[Boccaccio]

of his fine hand-made Italian shoe

"Hey, us made men wear only the best!"

Don Ernesto

 

[Boccaccio]

"Well, tonight, at the Gentlemen's Athletic Club, they are staging a little girly-girl prize fight. The two big mafia families will each put up a contestant and very big bets will be made on the winner. You will be given the privilege of fighting for the Zamboni family."

"Hey, Rocco," Don Ernesto exclaimed to Rocco Mazzoni, the former middleweight he used as an enforcer. "They're gonna put that hot little reporter in the ring."

"Topless, I hope," Rocco grunted, slamming a ham-fist into his palm. Every once in a while when a bimbo really got on the don's bad side, he turned her over to Rocco for a round or two of belly and breast-punching. After a few good shots he usually had to prop the babes up against the ropes to draw out the fight, while his gloved fists fired shot after shot into the yielding flesh of their nude torsos.

"Me too," snarled the Don, licking his lips in anticipation. "You oughtta read this story, Rocco -- it's really hot!"

"Dat's OK, boss," his semi-literate minion replied. "I don't read a lot of friction."

 

[Boccaccio]

and give you a few pointers on how to survive in the ring.

"Tip #1, girlie," Bruno began. "Ya wanna get on the good side of the crowd, see, cause the judges usually go with the crowd favorite, right? So what you wanna do is keep yer hands down at waist level. The crowd loves a fighter who can take a good punch."

'Especially one to a nice pair of tits,' Bruno muttered under his breath with a sly smile, as he ogled Barb's bare breasts.

 

[Boccaccio]

Under my hooded robe I wore a pair of blue boxing shorts that were a size too big for me (a cause for some concern) and a white tee shirt.

Boo to the tee shirt.

 

[Boccaccio]

"You girls will come out fighting when you hear the gong. You will fight topless.

"Yay" to the referee. It's important that traditions be observed in the noble Sport of Kings.

 

[Boccaccio]

Her name was Katrina. I think she was Swedish.

Katrina Johansson, mother of Ingemar, who took the heavyweight title from Floyd Patterson, and then lost it back to him.

That was a rough second round for Barb. Those body shots have a cumulative effect.

 

[Barbaria1]

It's a shame that the Pulitzer Prize for Feature Photography wasn't awarded until 1968. I wouldn't mind seeing some stills of our crack reporter hard at work.

"Hey, us made men wear only the best!"

Don Ernesto

I think that should be "us Italian men"

"Tip #1, girlie," Bruno began. "Ya wanna get on the good side of the crowd, see, cause the judges usually go with the crowd favorite, right? So what you wanna do is keep yer hands down at waist level. The crowd loves a fighter who can take a good punch."

'Especially one to a nice pair of tits,' Bruno muttered under his breath with a sly smile, as he ogled Barb's bare breasts.

Stop staring at 'em

Boo to the tee shirt.

Read on ...

"Yay" to the referee. It's important that traditions be observed in the noble Sport of Kings.

See! Told ya!

Katrina Johansson, mother of Ingemar, who took the heavyweight title from Floyd Patterson, and then lost it back to him.

That was a rough second round for Barb. Those body shots have a cumulative effect.

One more round to go ... I just have to keep from being KOed for another 3 minutes. Wanna make a wager?