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All at Sea with Jeeves

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Now l'bogo is the one with the carnival mask - masked men with whips seem to turn up in carnivals all over the world -
from the Caribbean:

carnival3 Domincan Rep..jpgCrack-That-Whip-Carnival-in-Bocas-del-Toro-Panama.jpgcarnival-character-jab-jab.jpg

to the Carpathians (well, heading that way):

Bavarian carnival whip.jpg

the girls love a real Whip Master!
Whip master Trinidad.jpg

and you can order yours on-line:

Carnival body whip.jpg
 
Now l'bogo is the one with the carnival mask - masked men with whips seem to turn up in carnivals all over the world -
from the Caribbean:

View attachment 576323View attachment 576324View attachment 576325

to the Carpathians (well, heading that way):

View attachment 576326

the girls love a real Whip Master!
View attachment 576328

and you can order yours on-line:

View attachment 576329
I'd always scoffed at going on one of those Carnival Cruise Lines trips, but now I'm reconsidering...
 
Gosh, you step away from CF for 24 hours, and look how far behind you get. Bit of a task, catching up.

“Did I or did I not warn you yesterday of the consequences of poor seamanship?”
“You did, sir, but I….”
“I’m very reluctant to do this, and it will hurt me more than it will hurt you, but it’s forty lashes for you!”
“Forty, sir?! I…..”
“Isn’t that enough? Would you prefer sixty?”
“No, sir, I…”
“Right, come on then! To the for’ard mast with you!”
Good to see the old Crux Star line practices some discipline. The for'ard mast? I say, Bertie, isn't that where we are? We'll get a good view of this. Just like back at Madame M's, eh?:very_hot::)

What Mr Windar is implying, sir, is that the mere act of leaving Miss Moore in charge of an ocean liner is clearly negligent on the part of the Captain, in that calamity is certain to occur whenever Miss Moore is left in sole charge of any moving object.
I suppose Jeeves knows these things. Anyway, it does seem to play out that way. :facepalm::D

Is cahoots yet another term for his monocle?
You can push this too far, you know.:rolleyes:

As First Office I expect I will have a lead role to play in this important act of discipline, Captain.
Or we can just let Wragg's aunt do it.:rolleyes::doh:

Jollyrei, even though he’s only been to Mlle Messaline’s the same number of times that I have, considers himself to be something of an expert. “I say!” he said, “I’m dashed if that isn’t a cat o’nine tails!”

And there he sat, looking like some kind of a genius. I forbore to mention that, given that it clearly had nine strands, and that we were on a ship, even a dunce like me had worked that out!
One does like to give the impression that one knows what is what. Confidence. The girls like confidence.:cool::azote::bdsm-heart:

the gathering at the foot of the mast was swelled still further by the arrival of the Captain, gripping Barb Moore by the upper arm. Behind trailed a highly athletic-looking Italian crewman who I’d previously heard addressed as L’Bogo. L’Bogo had a whip, and that looked even more fearsome than Aunt Eulalia’s.
So the crewman doing the flogging is an Italian. Very multicultural experience here. Can't say we aren't broadening our horizons, eh?:)

Keep calm Barb, quiet, just to warm up your butt a little...
Can you type that in a comical Italian accent, you know, for verisimilitude?:rolleyes::oops::doh::devil:

Now l'bogo is the one with the carnival mask - masked men with whips seem to turn up in carnivals all over the world
That should make for a nice challenge to Madiosi if he's working on a manip.:D
 
Can you type that in a comical Italian accent, you know, for verisimilitude?:rolleyes::oops::doh::devil:

On a semi-serious note, I do wonder how Jeeves comes across to those whose first language isn't English.

I sure as heck couldn't do a Jeeves translation into German!
 
7.

Mademoiselle Messaline has missed a trick. Those posts she ties people to at her club? What they lack is a crow’s nest up above, so that lecherous peeping Toms like Jollyrei and myself can get a bird’s eye view of proceedings! I made a mental note to suggest it to her next time I saw her, because Jollyrei, Ted, and I had a completely unobstructed view of proceedings! No chaps in top hats, no ladies with fascinators, nothing apart from the occasional misting up of my monocle obstructed the view!

And what a view! The first thing that the Captain did was to strip poor Barb stark naked, apart from her shoes. And without any Seagrams to warm her up, either! The poor girl must have been frightfully cold, but it was good news for us, because those sticky-out bits on the front of her chest stood up like sailors on parade! Jeeves has a word for it, but I’m dashed if I can remember it. Begins with a ‘t’, if I’m not very much mistaken.

Jollyrei sighed dreamily. “By Jove, Bertie. I’d forgotten what a splendid pair of knockers that lassie has!”

“Absolutely gorgeous!” agreed Ted. I polished my monocle. Now I had found a cure for seasickness!

Next thing, Captain Inder tied her to the mast, arms above her head, and the above-mentioned ‘knockers’ either side of the mast. Not a problem for us, we just whizzed round to the other side of the Crow’s Nest, peered down, and there they both were, one each side of the mast, proudly displayed to their celestial admirers!

As guest of honour, Mr Tree was given a spare cat o’nine tails and was invited to share the task 50/50 with Mr L’Bogo, and, on the Captain’s command, Tree opened the batting.

“One!” shouted Tree.

“Two!” added L’Bogo.

“Three!” continued Tree.

If they were having any effect we couldn’t see it from above. I could see Jeeves fidgeting, he’s a master with a whip, but he remained silent at least until fifteen, at which point Barb started giggling.

“What’s so funny, Moore?” bellowed the Captain.

“Nothing, sir!”

By twenty-five, she was laughing uproariously. The Captain was puce with anger, as were Tree and L'Bogo, not to mention the soup-stained diners..

“Can’t you at least pretend that it hurts?” he demanded.

“I’m sorry, sir, it’s just that it tickles!”

A soft cough interrupted proceedings. “Please forgive my interrupting the smooth running of your ship once again, Captain. It’s just that I couldn’t help but observe that the Lady Eulalia and the Countess of High Groaning are equipped with riding crops.”

Barb glared at him.

“So they are!” Bob Inder smiled at the ladies. “May we borrow your whips, Ladies?”

Deborah was having none of it. “You may not, Captain. The only ones who will be using these whips are Eulalia and myself! Is this miserable girl responsible for nearly crashing us into that iceberg just now?”

“Er, yes, she is, and she very nearly steered us into an armoured cruiser yesterday!”

“Then stand aside, Gentlemen, and leave this to the professionals!”

Reluctantly, Tree and L’Bogo stood back. I knew for a fact that there is no point in mere men arguing with women like these.

Deborah’s whip sang through the air and landed with a ‘crack!’ that echoed back from the bridge.

“Owwww!” yelled Barb. “One!” called Deborah.

Zing-Crack! went Eulalia’s whip. “Yeeee-OOWWWW!” shrieked Barb. I looked down with sympathy. There but for the Grace of God…

So it went on. Based on experience at Mademoiselle Messaline’s, I can tell you that there’s a real knack to handling a whip, but I can also tell you that those two ladies needed lessons from nobody. They passed thirty without drawing breath, Barb howling like a Banshee, and the Countess drew back her arm, and expertly delivered number thirty-one, just as Eulalia was preparing number thirty-two.

Suddenly, there was a series of bright flashes.

There was a moment of silence filled only with Barb’s sobs. Spike Sharp stood grinning in absolute triumph, a puff of smoke dispersing from his flashbulb, his scoop pictures safely captured.
 
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Mademoiselle Messaline has missed a trick.
She and her girls are more used to turning them:D

The first thing that the Captain did was to strip poor Barb stark naked, apart from her shoes.
What? Why? That will just provoke a litany of complaints about how being made to wear those shoes is worse than the whipping...

There was a moment of silence filled only with Barb’s sobs. Spike Sharp stood grinning in absolute triumph, a puff of smoke dispersing from his flashbulb, his scoop picture safely captured.
Moore, as soon as they untie you, you grab that fake journalist's camera and throw it overboard. If he scoops us you will get a whipping when you get back to New York that will make this one look like a day at the spa:mad:
 
What? Why? That will just provoke a litany of complaints about how being made to wear those shoes is worse than the whipping...
She loves her shoes, does Barb. It would have been just cruel to part her from them! :rolleyes:
 
The poor girl must have been frightfully cold, but it was good news for us, because those sticky-out bits on the front of her chest stood up like sailors on parade! Jeeves has a word for it, but I’m dashed if I can remember it. Begins with a ‘t’, if I’m not very much mistaken.

Tumescent! There. Someone has to say it. ;)

A soft cough interrupted proceedings. “Please forgive my interrupting the smooth running of your ship once again, Captain. It’s just that I couldn’t help but observe that the Lady Eulalia and the Countess of High Groaning are equipped with riding crops.”

Barb glared at him.

Jeeves is such a spoilsport! :mad:

Deborah’s whip sang through the air and landed with a ‘crack!’ that echoed back from the bridge.

“Owwww!” yelled Barb. “One!” called Deborah

Jeez, Deb !!! :eek:

Zing-Crack! went Eulalia’s whip. “Yeeee-OOWWWW!” shrieked Barb. I looked down with sympathy. There but for the Grace of God…

Jeez, Eul!!!! :oops::eek:

Barb howling like a Banshee, and the Countess drew back her arm, and expertly delivered number thirty-one, just as Eulalia was preparing number thirty-two.

By the Grace of God, please stop! Enough! :(

Spike Sharp stood grinning in absolute triumph, a puff of smoke dispersing from his flashbulb, his scoop pictures safely captured.

Wait till I get my hands on Spike! :spank::spank::spank::spank::spank:
 
So it went on. Based on experience at Mademoiselle Messaline’s, I can tell you that there’s a real knack to handling a whip

vivien-sasdi-naked-hungarian-playboy-05-800x1100 (2).jpg Yes, of course : Mademoiselle Messaline is always welcome when you need of her , but you let her at her special club and she could not view those wonderful things which are described during this pleasant cruise ... :aaaaa:
8DEcH9z.gif gif


... and , at least, she knows to drive a boat, her !

Summer_2016_nude_vacation_and_nudism_7.jpg:drive::ciappa:
 
Next thing, Captain Inder tied her to the mast, arms above her head, and the above-mentioned ‘knockers’ either side of the mast. Not a problem for us, we just whizzed round to the other side of the Crow’s Nest, peered down, and there they both were, one each side of the mast, proudly displayed to their celestial admirers!
Celestial admirers watching Eul and Deb in action! Which could be their own future, unless they want to pass the remaining of the trip in the crow's nest. :azote:
And Spike is around for more scoop!:eek:
 
Next thing, Captain Inder tied her to the mast, arms above her head, and the above-mentioned ‘knockers’ either side of the mast. Not a problem for us, we just whizzed round to the other side of the Crow’s Nest, peered down, and there they both were, one each side of the mast, proudly displayed to their celestial admirers!
Considering that the foremast on a transatlantic liner is usually a steel tube containing a ladder to the crow's nest, this is an impressive feat! :D
Highly entertaining, Wragg! :)
 
Jollyrei sighed dreamily. “By Jove, Bertie. I’d forgotten what a splendid pair of knockers that lassie has!”

Sometimes I worry about that man!

So, Tree gets a go, and I'bogo, but for all my years of service do I get some fun, err I mean chance to do my duty? No I do not. Hmmph.
I'll just go over here where I coincidentally get a rather splendid view of the aformentioned knockers.

Mmmmmm
 
“Then stand aside, Gentlemen, and leave this to the professionals!”

Reluctantly, Tree and L’Bogo stood back. I knew for a fact that there is no point in mere men arguing with women like these.

Deborah’s whip sang through the air and landed with a ‘crack!’ that echoed back from the bridge.

“Owwww!” yelled Barb. “One!” called Deborah
Dash it Bertie, it's a good thing we're up here. Wouldn't do at all to be down there where Barb is taking all this... You know, it's odd. I have the strangest feeling. What's that when a chap makes a clever escape only to see some nice young girl get the nick? You suppose we should do something? They are our female relations after all.

Whatever else you say, it's a rummy way they have on board ship of teaching girls proper driving rules.

Suddenly, there was a series of bright flashes.

There was a moment of silence filled only with Barb’s sobs. Spike Sharp stood grinning in absolute triumph, a puff of smoke dispersing from his flashbulb, his scoop pictures safely captured.
Good-o! Always count on Sharpie to get the souvenir trade going. I might buy several copies of the next ed. We can frame one in the Drones lounge.
 
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