• Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.

A Tale of Two Barbs: A Pirate Cay Adventure

Go to CruxDreams.com


Rebel Leader
Staff member
I have Kat and Grace on standby if help is required, but in truth they would probably end up as captives too :hmmm:
Goes without saying… :rolleyes:


Graf von Kreuzigung
the joint CIA/military rescue mission to snatch Ambassador Moore from the clutches of the PRFF had failed.
Does not surprise me! If you leave such delicate operations to The Agency, it's failure guaranteed!:roto2palm:
But now at last, after almost 60 years, the Bay of Pigs has a worthy successor!:D
The place turned out to be a brothel.”
The PRFF tricked no one, but apparently, The Agency uses a tracking software that automatically directs to the nearest brothel!:doh: Convenient of course for White House staff and the diplomatic service when they are on a mission abroad!:zlumi:


Rebel Leader
Staff member

As soon as the video transmission to the White House Situation Room had broken off, Juanita hastened to order the board raised for fear that their precious prisoner was in danger of drowning. And there was good reason for concern, for Barb had stopped struggling and appeared to have lost consciousness.

But Juanita knew exactly what she was doing. And after applying vigorous chest compressions, she was relieved to see Barb showing signs of coming around. The danger had passed.

“Good,” breathed Juanita, wiping the sweat of exertion from her brow, and straightening up from where she sat, straddling Barb’s hips, on the raised water board. “Comrade Rolle would have had us all shot had she drowned!”

“And I likely would have,” said the PRFF leader, who had suddenly appeared. “She’s worth $100 million to us now.”

“Will we return her to them once they’ve paid?”

“Not likely, Juanita. I don’t trust the Prime Minister. We’ll keep her until he steps down and calls a free and fair election. And even then, now that she has seen many of us, and knows who we are, we probably ought to feed her to the sharks.”

“You’re probably right. So … we sit tight and wait twenty-four hours. What do we do with her in the meantime?”

“Whatever your heart desires. Juanita.”


“Oh! Excuse me, Mr President. Sorry to barge in unannounced, but I just returned moments ago from Providencia … and … uh … thought … you were … uh … alone in the Oval …”

“No, Leo … it’s quite alright. Rose and I were just discussing her job performance … No, Rose, stay right where you are. Don’t get up. I can assure you that Mr McIntyre has seen plenty of bare female asses before.”

“Yes, Mr President,” replied Rose meekly, renewing her white knuckled grip of the Resolute’s far edge.

“Some need for improvement has been identified, I gather,” observed Leo, walking over to where Rose was bent over the Resolute Desk to closely examine her delectably spread, leather-strap-reddened buttocks.

“Yes, Leo, Rose and I have agreed on fifteen disciplinary strokes. She has two left to go. As Chief of Staff, perhaps you’d like to have the honor?”

“Of course, Mr President. Hand me the strap.”

“Owww … oh fuck,” screamed Rose.

“Hands back on the edge of the deck and brace yourself for the last one,” soothed Leo.

“Ahhhhh .. OH MY God!”

“Finished Rose, that will be all. You’ll remember what we went over today now, won’t you?” chided the President. “Oh, and kindly retrieve your skirt and panties from the floor on your way out.”

“Was that white goo seeping out of her cunt, what I think it was, Mr President?”

“Heh … Leo … you know what they say … discipline should always be delivered with love and affection.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before, Mr President. But in Rose’s case, it certainly seems appropriate.”

“Quite. So … tell me, Leo … what’s the latest from Providencia?”

“No word yet. It’s all in the hands, as you know, of this guy, Robert. I’ve met him. Muscle-bound and fit as a fiddle. Obvious military background … impressive bearing. Loads of self-confidence and swagger.”

“Do we know who he really is?”

“No, but we’ll try to find out after this is over.”

“Alright, we wait then. Care to join me for a drink?”

“Of course, Mr President. Should we ask Rose to join us?”

“Tempting, Leo, but let’s not spoil a good thing by overuse.”


In the darkness of the cell block where she had been taken to recover after nearly drowning, Barb tugged futilely, as she had done so many times before, at the cuffs that bound her wrists to the x-cross. At least they’d stopped blindfolding her, she told herself. Otherwise, it was always the same. They’d come every so often to fetch her, dragging her off for yet an other interrogation session in which they’d torture her in various ways to get her to talk.

She’d endured electrodes attached to her privates, waterboarding, a hosing with a jet of icy water, being stretched out on a rack, being strung up by her wrists bound together behind her back, as well as upside down by her ankles.

She’d told them everything she knew about her ambassadorial posting, which was very little, and about the Prime Minister, the billionaire and her visit to Pirate Cay. The latter seemed of special interest to them. She had learned that elaborating on the more sordid details of her experiences on Pirate Cay seemed to both please and interest them, but also whetted their appetite for more, which led to more questioning and torture. In the end, to avoid the infliction of ever more punishing pain, she had found herself fabricating things that hadn’t even happened.

It had been clear to her from the very beginning that the one who went by Juanita was in charge of the whole business of extracting information from her, and that Juanita could be utterly ruthless, often continuing to inflict pain even after getting Barb to divulge whatever information had been demanded. The woman clearly relished seeing Barb suffer, but also seemed to curiously take special pleasure in touching and caressing Barb’s breasts and privates.

And, it was at that very moment, just when her thoughts were focused on Juanita and the rebel woman’s curious behaviors that she appeared in the doorway to the room. Silhouetted by the light from the naked bulb that lit the hallway behind her, Juanita cut an impressive figure … broad-shouldered, muscular and, unlike any time prior to that moment, wearing no clothing .. except for a pair of heavy combat boots.

Reaching around the door jamb, Juanita flipped on the light switch to the cell’s overhead light fixture … illuminating the front of her body. Immediately noticeable was the fact that she was wearing a strap-on … a strap-on that mounted a dildo of considerable proportions. In her right hand she carried a long leather braided whip.

Without a word, she advanced on Barb … a malicious fire in her eyes.

“Nooo …” cried Barb, tugging furiously at her bonds. “Please … No!”

Without a word, Juanita planted her feet, and uncoiled her whip … then proceeded to menacingly crack it several times on the concrete floor, raising a small cloud of dust each time.

“Please … no! What do you want?”

“Your pain and your desire … an unbeatable combination!”

“My what? Are you nuts?”

The answer was a side-handed whiplash delivered straight across Barb’s chest, followed up by a pair of sharply delivered diagonals, each of which broke skin sufficiently to draw small beads of blood.

Advancing on her helpless victim, Juanita closed in tight, fondling Barb’s breasts in a flurry of caresses, tugs, and pinches, followed up by a hard-pressed kiss to the mouth and an insistent, multi-fingered probing assault on her pussy.

Despite resisting by squirming about and attempting to turn her head sideways, there was little Barb could do to ward off the doggedly persistent advances of her assailant, which meant that eventually there was nothing left to her but to acquiesce to the inevitable. She could feel the oversized bulbous head of Juanita’s strap-on dildo moving up between her thighs …demanding entrance. She thought it frighteningly large … impossibly large … but penetrate it did … slowly, painfully at first … and then …

And then, suddenly, there were shouts! A loud blast somewhere, then another … even louder one, closer by … gunfire … the sharp rattle of automatic weapons … another blast … screams … more gunfire … shouting … a figure appearing suddenly in the doorframe … Juanita pulling free … breaking away off to one side .. an ear-splitting burst of gunfire … Juanita … shrieking … riddled with bullets … lying on her back, covered with blood … the strap-on dildo bobbing and waving like the tail of a dog … a moment or two of deathly silence … then the man in the doorway crossing over towards Barb … a recognizable face … grinning broadly … Robert!


“Do we know who he really is?”
If, as Monty suggests, this tale is directed by Guy Ritchie then he will undoubtedly be Jason Statham or Vinnie Jones ...
“Whatever your heart desires. Juanita.”
I am sure her heart desires many things ...
“Your pain and your desire … an unbeatable combination!”
I was right :)
a recognizable face … grinning broadly … Robert!
It is ... the mercurial Vinnie Jones is playing the part of Robert! Brilliant ...


This is a wonderful tale, blighted only by the fact that I can sense a premature extraction on the part of Old Barb coming on ...


Graf von Kreuzigung
Rose was bent over the Resolute Desk to closely examine her delectably spread, leather-strap-reddened buttocks.
Some history facts I found :

"The Resolute Desk, also called the Hayes Desk, is one the six desks ever used by US Presidents in the Oval Office.
It was a gift from Queen Victoria to President Rutherford B. Hayes in 1880, and owes its name, because it was made from timber from the British exploration ship HMS Resolute.

The Resolute Desk was used on different locations in the White House. The first president to use it in the Oval Office was JFK. After his assassination, it was removed again, until Jimmy Carter put it back into the Oval Office. It has since been continuously in use as the presidential desk, with the exception of George W. Bush's two terms."

Probably, both after Kennedy's and Clinton's terms, the Resolute Desk had to be removed in order to clean up a few persistent stains of a white kind of stuff!:roto2nuse:

we probably ought to feed her to the sharks.”

Poor sharks! Being fed by complaining food!:eek:

This part of the story was filmed by Michael Bay.. or possibly Guy Ritchie.. :rolleyes: great writing! Edge of the seat stuff!

This should not be left to third rate directors who can only conceal their lack of skills behind lots of CGI! Call for Sam Peckinpah or Robert Aldrich!:icon_tfno:
Top Bottom