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A Tale of Two Barbs: A Pirate Cay Adventure

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Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
A bit late after all the fine comments, But you know me - I can't resist commenting, even if I have nothing to say.
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.
Juanita is my hero. Strong yet compassionate!:span1:
“Whatever your heart desires. Juanita.”
I love that line. It says so much with so little. Classic CF! :ARMS1:
“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.”
Is the President from Arkansas?;)
“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.”
These sexist, misogynistic Democrats!:mad:
“Heh … Leo … you know what they say … discipline should always be delivered with love and affection.”
Oh, wait. He might be a man after my own heart. Such wise words! :campeon:
I have to admit … he’s better looking than Stan Goldman.
Who isn't? ;)

Apropos of an earlier reference to "Dallas," I'm hoping the rescue scene is a dream and Barb wakes up with Juanita bringing out the really heavy stuff!!:babeando::babeando:
 

Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member

windar

Teller of Tales
27.

Somehow, things had always worked out for him. Whether through luck or skill or, more probably, a combination of the two, it was hard to say. But just as things had turned out better than anyone could have imagined in his business affairs, the same had happened in resolving this problematic situation.

He had faced a whole salad bowl of troubles-a new Administration in Washington, with a diminution of Mo Fink’s influence and ability to forestall trouble, the new Ambassador they had appointed, the rebels and their kidnapping of the Ambassador.

Any one of those could have resulted in exposure of his activities on Pirate Cay, which would likely have ended up with him spending the rest of his life in prison, not to mentioned bankrupted by lawsuits, lawyer’s fees and the like.

Of course, Fred, Mo and Dean Harley Carter, among numerous other luminaries of business, entertainment and politics (were those really three distinct domains?) would have gone down with him, but he didn’t really relish sharing a cell with any of them.

But he’d stayed calm, developed a plan and it had all gone down brilliantly. Robert had called him just before the copter took off. The Ambassador was safe-shaken up by her ordeal, but basically OK-and was winging her way to Pirate Cay with Robert.

The rebels were dead. Anything Barb had told them, assuming she had told them anything about him and his activities- would remain secret.

Fred issued a press release- “Providencia forces kill rebels in raid on their hideout. Prime Minister Bascome lauds the effort s of our brave warriors!” The report contained not a word about the Ambassador and her kidnapping. Anyone reading it or seeing the bullet pocked walls of the abandoned sugar warehouse where they had kept her would just think the rebels had been caught by chance and died in a shootout.

The President back in Washington would keep quiet. Why needlessly embarrass his Administration, the Navy Seals and the CIA by publicizing a bungled operation? The Ambassador was safe and sound so no one needed to know.

Barb would keep quiet, he was sure. It was hardly an episode that she would be proud of. Walking alone without telling anyone where she was going hadn’t been the smartest move of her life. And if she were tempted to talk, there was always the video of her whipping her young cousin and Kelly. And, over the next few days, if things went as hoped, there would be even more video that Ambassador Barbara Moore would want to stay on Pirate Cay.

His phone pinged. “Five minutes out.” He slipped his sandals on and passed through the great room, where Tara and Delia were watching some silly reality show. “Let’s go,” he said. They rose, Tara slowly, Delia more quickly, and made their way out to the helipad.

He heard the thrum of the chopper coming in low over the ocean. It circled once over the island before descending onto the pad. The blades slowly came to rest as the motor shut off. The stairs dropped down making a soft clang as they contacted the concrete.

Robert came down first, smiling broadly. He rushed over to shake his hand. “Nice work!” he said.

“It feels good to have gotten back into action,” Robert said. “Those terrorists never stood a chance. Mendo and I grew up together in the same little fishing village. We used to play cops and robbers on that old sugar plantation, so I knew that’s where he would hide out. That’s something those brilliant guys from Langley wouldn’t know.”

“Let me guess, you were the cop and he was the robber.” Robert smiled.

He saw Barb coming down the stairs now, dressed in jeans, a T shirt adorned with palm trees that said “Escape to Paradise” and sandals. She looked a bit disoriented, which wasn’t surprising. After all, she had had an eventful last few days, between the kidnapping and the events here that preceded it.

“Excuse me for a moment, Robert,” he said.

He stepped over to hug her as her feet contacted the tarmac. “Welcome back to Pirate Cay, Ambassador Moore!” he said, pulling her towards him close enough that he could feel her breasts pressing against his chest. He was tempted to reach down and cradle her tight little ass, but he held back. There would be time for that later. He let her go.

“I guess I owe you a debt of thanks for rescuing me,” she said.

“Not at all,” he replied. “I’m a loyal American and you represent our country on these islands, so it’s my duty to see to your welfare.”

She looked at him somewhat doubtfully. “Why did you have me brought here?”

“The Embassy is clearly unsafe. I can assure you there are no rebels here. You need some time to rest and recuperate before you resume your duties. Don’t worry, the Secretary and the President have approved.”

Delia, no longer able to restrain herself, rushed forward, grabbing Barb in a hug, pressing her large breasts against Barb’s. “I’m so glad you’re safe!” she cried. She kissed her on the mouth. Barb pulled back, a bit overwhelmed by the situation, and Delia didn’t pursue it.

Tara waddled forward, taking hold of Barb gingerly and leaning over her distended belly to kiss her as well, this rime just a peck on the cheek.

“Why don’t you ladies take Barb to the clinic?” he suggested. “Given all that she’s been through, it would be best if the doctor gave her a thorough examination. After that, you can help her freshen up in her room and maybe have a nice swim. I’ll see you all at dinner.”

Tara and Delia each took an arm and they strolled off like old friends on a pleasant outing.

He and Robert trailed behind. “You might want to check your account, Robert,” he said.

Robert took his phone out and typed in a password. After a moment, he looked up. “That’s most generous, sir,”

“You deserve it,” he replied. “I will trust you to take care of your comrades in arms.”

“Of course,” Robert replied.

“The Senator and the Dean are on their way down in the plane. We’ll have a very nice celebration for you and the Ambassador. We’ll probably need the services of young Barb and Kelly after dinner, so you’ll clean them up, right?”

“Clean them up so we and our guests can dirty them,” Robert replied.

“Exactly. Now go and rest up. It should be an interesting evening.”
 

Loxuru

Graf von Kreuzigung
The President back in Washington would keep quiet. Why needlessly embarrass his Administration, the Navy Seals and the CIA by publicizing a bungled operation? The Ambassador was safe and sound so no one needed to know.
POTUS is getting himself into a tricky situation, that largely outclasses Ambassador Moore's embarassing videotapes. Concealing the abduction and the failed mission for Congress! That's asking for impeachment!:roto2qtemeto:

And he has lots of witnesses to be eliminated, starting with Senator Fink of course!:sniper:

Perhaps he could make a casual phone call to Moscow, and have a seemingly non-commital chat with the local ruler there, about poisonous substances and how to use them!:icon_tfno:
 

Fossy

Senator
Barb would keep quiet, he was sure
Was he really?
“Clean them up so we and our guests can dirty them,” Robert replied.
What a wonderful phrase ...

I would love to see Old Barb experiencing life behind the 'Pirate Clay Bars' even if only for a short while. I wonder if somehow that can be woven in :hmmm:

'Escape to Paradise' indeed! :tiburon:
 

windar

Teller of Tales
28.

“Here they come now, gentlemen,” he said to the assembled men-the Prime Minister, the Senator, Dean Carter and Robert. They all turned to stare at the procession entering the great room. Leading the way was the doctor, dressed for this occasion, not in her lab coat, but in a low cut T shirt that showed off her assets, and a knee-length batik skirt.

She was smiling, which suggested that she had not found anything of concern in her examination of Barb. He had been a bit concerned at the time the examination had taken, but perhaps she was just being thorough.

Then, he saw, or thought he saw, the doctor wink at him. It seemed it had been a very thorough examination, indeed. He would have to check out the video from the clinic when he had a free moment.

Following the doctor were Delia and Barb, arm in arm. Delia was also wearing a low-cut T shirt that showed off her even more apparent assets and a skirt that stopped well above her knees. Delia was smiling. Perhaps she had assisted the doctor in her examination.

Barb looked lovely in her little black dress and sandals. She wasn’t smiling as broadly as the doctor and Delia, which was understandable given the ordeal she had been through, but she didn’t look unhappy either.

Waddling a bit behind was Tara in a summer weight maternity dress. Looking at her, he couldn’t help but be glad that nature had designed things such that he had the fun of creating his heir and the hard work was left to the female of the species.

As the women approached the group of assembled men, he started clapping. The others joined in. The Senator began crooning to the tune from the Miss America Pageant that Bert Parks had sung back in the day, “There She Is, Our Ambassador, There She Is, Safe and Sound”. The humor was probably lost on the women who were too young to remember and wouldn’t have watched beauty pageants anyway, but the boss and the Dean roared with laughter.

As the laughter died down, the boss stepped into the role of gracious host. “Ambassador Moore, I know you have met the Prime Minister and Senator Fink, but let me introduce an old friend of the Senator’s and mine, Harley Carter, Dean of Students at our alma mater, Pitcher College.”

“Harley,” he continued, “This is Barbara Moore, representative of our great country to the Commonwealth of Providencia. It’s her rescue from those vicious terrorist thugs by Robert and his brave comrades that we are celebrating tonight.”

The Dean looked Barb up and down. Knowing him, the billionaire suspected that he was imagining her naked, bent over a caning frame, her welted ass just begging to be opened wide by his rampant cock.

The Dean took her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Moore. I’m so glad you are OK.” He’d been coached not to mention the interesting co-incidence of her name and that of the former aspiring journalism student at Pitcher, who now toiled under the merciless sun and the cruel lash right here on Pirate Cay, to a fair extent because of the confession the Dean had extracted from her.

“She’s very strong, quite impressive endurance,” the doctor said.

Barb smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dean Carter. I’ve gotten to spend a little time with these two students of yours and I’m very impressed,” she said, indicating Tara and Delia.

“Yes, we expect big things from our current generation of Pitcher students. They are well placed to follow in the footsteps of such successful alumni as our host and the Senator.”

Before the mutual admiration could go much further, one of the staff, a middle-aged local man dressed in braided livery, approached bearing a tray with two bottles of champagne in an ice bucket surrounded by a dozen or so long-stemmed crystal glasses. He placed the tray on an end table and departed silently.

The boss picked up one of the bottles-Louis Roederer Cristal, one of the better vintages-removed the wire from around the cork and slowly twisted until he heard that most satisfying pop. Carefully tilting the long, slim flute, he poured the effervescent liquid into the first glass, handing it to Barb.

He continued pouring. When he offered a glass to Tara, she looked at the doctor. “I think she can have a few sips to celebrate this special occasion,” the doctor said. Tara accepted the glass.

When everyone had been served, he lifted his glass, “First, a toast to our Ambassador, Ms. Barbara Moore. Never has our country been more capably or, may I take the liberty of saying, more attractively represented. We are so happy that she is safe and sound and here to celebrate amongst friends.” He took a sip, and everyone followed suit.

“But the real hero here, without whom the Ambassador would be suffering unspeakable horrors in the hands of those terrorists, is our brave Marine, Robert.” He took another sip.

Robert bowed. “Thank you boss. I was just doing my duty to my country,” he said, looking at the Prime Minister.

Big Fred smiled and reached into his pocket. “On behalf of the citizens of Providencia, I want to present you with the Gold Cross for Bravery.” He walked over to Robert and pinned the medal to his shirt, over his heart.

“Thank you, Mr. Prime Minister. I couldn’t have accomplished the rescue without my team of brave comrades. I consider that I am accepting this medal on their behalf.”

“Perhaps at a later date, I will have them over to the Prime Minister’s residence to thank them in person, but I trust they have been well-rewarded.”

“You might say so,” the boss said, winking. And, in fact, while this operation had cost him plenty, it had been worth it. Big Fred owed him even more now and the US Government would be less than anxious to harass him with their investigations for fear of exposing their failed attempt to free the Ambassador.

In the meantime, she was here and they would see how far she would go to show her gratitude for being rescued. And he would enjoy every minute of that, as would his friends.

Before that, though, there was dinner-perfectly aged steaks flown in from an excellent butcher shop in Georgetown, loaded onto the plane when it had stopped at Dulles to pick up the Senator, a great variety of side dishes made with Providencia’s finest local products and a very potent rum cake, of which the doctor only permitted Tara a small bite.

All of it was accompanied by a selection of vintage wines from some of the finest wine growing areas of the world-France, California, upstate New York- followed by cognac. The Dean, who was sitting at Barb’s right hand, kept her glass full.

The Senator entertained Barb by trashing his colleagues as a bunch of tin-plated phonies who didn’t believe most of what they felt obliged to say in public. “Except for that asshole from Vermont, perhaps,” he added. Barb couldn’t help laughing at some of his stories about the goings on inside the Beltway, although she frowned in response to his last remark.

Satiated, at least for the moment, the host leaned back in his chair. “You know, Barb, Pirate Cay is a special place. I have been blessed with enough money to live anywhere I choose and this is where I have chosen to spend my time.”

Barb smiled. “Yes, I can see why you would have. It’s lovely.”

“I come here every chance I get,” the Senator said.

“So I’ve heard,” Barb replied, recalling her meeting with him back in DC.

“And like all special places, we have our unique ways, our little rituals. Things we do here that we don’t do or talk about in the outside world.”

“You remember, Barb,” Tara interjected. “What happens on Pirate Cay…”

“Stays on Pirate Cay!” she continued, joined by Delia and the doctor.

Barb laughed and said, “So, I’ve heard.”

“Well, not just heard, Barb,” the boss said. “You got to participate, at least somewhat, the last time you were here. And I’ve heard from reliable sources,” he looked at Tara and Delia, “That you were- how shall I put this-intrigued by the experience.”

Barb blushed and he didn’t think it was just the champagne she had consumed.

“Yeah, Barb, admit it, you were turned on,” Delia said.

Barb shook her head. “No, it was wrong. Those two poor girls.”

“Those two poor girls, as you call them, are murderers,” Big Fred pointed out.

“Yes, but to hurt them like that…”

“How do you know how much it hurt?” Tara asked.

Barb stared at her. “Do you think they were faking? I mean when I whipped them it probably didn’t hurt, but when Robert did, they were writhing around on the post.”

“Yeah, it hurts,” Delia said. “A lot. But it’s also, I don’t know, kind of exciting, a challenge to see how you can take it. The thing is, you’ll never know unless you experience it for yourself.”

“Thanks, but I experienced enough pain with those terrorists to last me for a few lifetimes,” Barb said.

“Barb, this is totally different,” the boss said. “They were evil, vicious criminals using you to extract concessions. Here you are among friends who wish you no harm. And it will all be medically supervised to keep you safe.”

The doctor nodded. “Of course. I can assure you that we haven’t lost a single person yet.”

Barb looked very dubious.

“Remember, Barb, without Robert, you ‘d still be in the hands of those terrorists,” the Senator pointed out. “Maybe even dead. And who do you think organized and paid for it all. Show a little gratitude.”

Robert nodded affirmatively, looking searchingly at Barb as though he expected her to agree.

“Barb,” Dean Carter interjected. “You went to the University of Minnesota, if I’m not mistaken?” Barb nodded. “A state school, not a private college like Pitcher, but still a fine institution.”

“Yes, it was. I got an excellent education there,” she replied. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Did you pledge to a sorority there?”

“No,” Barb replied. “I went to a couple of their parties, but I never pledged.”

“But I’m sure you know they had their initiation rituals, paddling, tests of endurance and the like,” the Dean said.

“Sure, but,” Barb replied.

“Think of this as an initiation into the Pirate Cay sorority,” the Dean added.

“Yeah, we’ve all done it,” Tara said. “You can’t really be one of us unless you go through it.”

“What would you want …uh … want me to do exactly?” Barb asked hesitatingly.

“Robert, why don’t you bring out the caning frame?” the boss suggested. “ I’ve always preferred showing to telling. Mo, would you give him a hand, please?”

The Senator and Robert left the great room and returned shortly carrying a solid-looking wooden trestle. They placed it on the floor some distance from the dining table, facing the couches and armchairs in the sitting area.

“Now, Delia, why don’t you show her how it’s done?” the boss proposed.

“Sure,” Delia replied, getting to her feet and walking over to the frame. Speaking loud enough that the people at the table could hear, she laid her body over the trestle. “You just lie over it like this, so your ass is sticking out and we’ll attach your hands and feet with these straps,” she explained, indicating the thick leather straps at the bottom of each of the legs. “Then we put this thick strap around your waist and you’re ready to go. Of course you’ll be naked, but you get the idea.”

“Naked?” Barb said. “I don’t think so.”

“Barb,” the billionaire said. “Here at Pirate Cay, we aren’t ashamed of our bodies. Certainly yours is quite lovely. And we’ve all seen it. Tara and Delia, certainly, and Doc, of course. When Robert rescued you, you were naked, though he was thoughtful enough to have brought you clothes to wear for the helicopter. Unfortunately, the terrorists forced Fred and me to watch them doing unspeakable things to your naked body. The Senator and the Dean have seen the video. So there are no secrets here and no shame.”

“Come on Barb, we’ll get naked, too,” Delia urged. She walked back towards the table, discarding her T shirt as she went and unfastening the bra that barely contained her large breasts.

“Yeah,” Tara said, standing. “Let’s get naked,” and pulled the maternity dress over her head. The doctor stood and began disrobing as well. Soon, all three women were completely nude.

They stood together in a row, arms around each others’ waists. They made a lovely sight-Delia, with her large breasts, Tara with her bulging belly and the doctor, whose coffee-colored skin glowed under the lights that shone down from the high ceiling.

“Come on, Barb, come join us!” the doctor urged.

“Yes, Barb, then you’ll be part of the sorority,” Tara said.

Slowly, reluctantly, Barb got to her feet. “Let’s help her,” Tara said. The naked women surrounded Barb, unzipping her dress and slipping it over her head. Soon, she was naked, and quite visibly uncomfortable with it … attempting to cover herself with arms and hands.

Ignoring her hesitancy, the doctor took one arm and Delia took the other and they led her to the frame.

The doctor and Delia knelt, while Tara pushed on Barb’s back, and they quickly had her secured to the frame before she really could get a handle on her feelings. She was on full display, her legs shoulder length apart, bent at the waist, her tight little ass in the air, and her pussy and butt cheeks spread open.

“There, Barb, all done,” the doctor said, standing. “Don’t worry; we’ll be right here with you.” The three naked women stood in a row in front of Barb.

28422DA1-35F0-487B-ACEC-CD4CBA346E87.jpeg (@Fossy)

The billionaire looked around. “There aren’t enough females here to take care of all of us. Robert when you go get your cane, would you bring Barb and Kelly here? And hose them down well. I’m sure they stink after working in the sun all day.”

“Sure, Boss,” Robert replied. “This is going to be my kind of party.”

Barb looked back over her shoulder at her host. “Barb? Kelly?” Who the hell are they?”

“They are those two criminals who you whipped when you were here before. I feed them and house them-if you can call the scraps they get food and if you can call the great outdoors where they sleep a house-so, they can entertain us .”

“One of them is called Barb?” she asked.

“It’s a very common name, my dear,” the Dean assured her. “Now you just relax.”
 
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Fossy

Senator

windar

Teller of Tales
29.

The billionaire took a blue pill from the crystal candy bowl that the doctor was passing around, washed it down with some champagne and addressed the assembled dignitaries. “Gentlemen, I propose that each of us administer three cane strokes to Ambassador Moore’s most delectable and deserving tight little ass. That should be enough to give her a taste of how we do things on Pirate Cay. I assume that there is no medical issue with that, Doc?”

“Certainly not,” the doctor replied. “Her heart is strong and her buttocks are well-formed. She could take double that.”

Barb heard that and protested, “No, I’ve changed my mind! Let me go!”

“I’m sorry,” the boss replied, “But here on Pirate Cay once you’re tied to the frame, it’s too late to change your mind. But we’ll stick with three each for now. Who wants to go first?” he asked.

Dean Carter was sitting on the sofa, naked below the waist, his cock buried deep in the mouth of his former student, the young Barbara Moore, who was kneeling between his legs performing the act that her refusal to perform when she had first arrived on Pirate Cay was a major cause of her current troubles.

Kelly was performing a similar duty on Big Fred, struggling to breathe with the organ that justified his nickname filling her mouth. Neither of the men looked like they wished to be disturbed.

“Let me at her!” the Senator exclaimed in true Texan spirit.

The boss smiled. “By all means, Mo,” he said, graciously.

The Senator took the rattan from Robert and swished it loudly through the air as he strode in front of Ambassador Barb. “You little minx, flashing your tits and pussy in my office. Was that Leo McIntyre’s idea or his sidekick Josh Handleman’s? Well, if you ever run into them again, you tell them that I had already decided to approve your nomination before you put on that little show.”

“You see,” he continued, “Some nosy reporter from the WaPo was already asking why I was holding up the nomination of an Ambassador to an insignificant country like Providencia. My apologies, Mr. Prime Minister,” he added, though Big Fred was concentrating too hard on the sensations Kelly was eliciting in his groin to have heard the remark.

“Of course I was happy to enjoy the show, even though I get plenty of pussy down here. But you’re a very bad girl, Ambassador Moore, and you need to be punished.”

The Senator walked around to stand behind her, tapping her lower cheeks with the rattan to adjust his distance. “You better hold the frame tight, girls, she may tend to try to move,” he advised. Tara and Delia each took hold of the wooden frame.

The Senator wound up and let fly with his first stroke across Barb’s lower globes, the sound ricocheting off the high ceiling like a gunshot. The boss watched her torso do the dance of pain that he loved so well, as the line began to redden across her soft skin. He could see that Tara and Delia were leaning their weight against the frame to keep it from moving.

The brave girl made no sound. The Senator wound up and struck again. This time, after a few seconds, as the burning fire crested, the boss heard Barb mutter “Shit!”

“You felt that one, didn’t you, you little slut! Your language is not very diplomatic,” the Senator remarked.

“It’s OK, Barb,” Tara said. “Only one more.” Which was true for the Senator, but there were still four men behind him.

The Senator struck again. As the third line rose on her tight little ass, the boss could see her arms and legs pulling against the straps in a desperate, but hopeless attempt to free herself.

The Senator stood watching, then began his wind-up.

“Mo!” the billionaire said, firmly. “You’ve had your three.”

The Senator stopped. “I’m just getting started he protested! The bitch tried to seduce me and she needs to be punished!”

“We agreed on three each. You’ve had your turn. Give me the cane.” Reluctantly, Mo handed him the rattan. He looked around. Big Fred and Harley were still being serviced by Kelly and young Barb and looked like they didn’t want to be interrupted just yet. Robert deserved the final licks for having risked his life to rescue the Ambassador.

That left him. He usually left the administration of punishment to others, preferring to watch, usually while being blown or fucking one of the companions, but he had a duty to perform and didn’t want to shirk it. He took his position and tapped gently on Barb’s ass to confirm his distance.

“No!” she shouted. “That’s enough! I’ve experienced the cane like you wanted. I get it. It hurts! Now let me up!”

“No, Barb,” Delia said. “You haven’t really experienced it yet. Canings on Pirate Cay are never just three strokes. They're always a dozen or so at a minimum. You aren’t in the club unless you take at least that.”

“Shove your club!” Barb protested. “My ass is burning. I can’t take any more.”

“We had an agreement, Barb,” the boss said. “I’m keeping my part. I stopped the Senator even though we’ve been friends since our days at Pitcher. He’d have given you three dozen if I’d let him. Count on that. But if you’d like, we’ll let the doctor decide if you can take more.”

The doctor stepped forward, brushed Barb’s hair out of her face and stared at her for a moment. “You’re fine, Barb. Stop being a baby. All of the companions have taken much worse.”

“Oh, you know that, girlfriend!” Tara confirmed.

The doctor stepped back. The billionaire stepped back and continued tapping, confirming his aim, then delivered the first of his allotted strokes across that most inviting target. The sound and the sensation of contact between the supple rod and the firm, but yielding flesh that radiated up his arm were very satisfying, at least for him.

It was much less satisfying for the Ambassador, who howled her discontent. From behind he heard Dean Carter breathlessly cry, “I’m going to come, you little bitch! If you don’t swallow every last drop, you’ll join the other Barb on that frame!”

The billionaire watched his friend grab young Barb’s head and hold it close to his groin as he spent inside her mouth before collapsing back on the sofa. Without being asked, as she had been trained, the young student opened her mouth to show the Dean the evidence.

The billionaire struck the next blow, eliciting another round of complaints from Ambassador Barb.

By the time he has struck his third allotted stroke, her ass was nicely decorated with six angry welts that covered more ground than the untouched flesh between them, which he knew wouldn’t remain untouched for much longer.

Seeing that Kelly, using all of her skills, was still holding Big Fred back from completion he offered the cane to the Dean. Harley rose from the couch, pulled up his pants and accepted the proffered instrument. Barb protested weakly, but it was more pro forma than with any real hope of altering the punishment which she had somehow been manipulated into enduring.

Dean Carter studied the tight little ass that was so invitingly presented to him. Looking to attack virgin flesh, he decided to go low, aiming for the sensitive flesh where ass met thighs.

“Fuck!” Barb shouted, straining madly against the frame. Only the combined team work of Tara and Delia kept it from moving.

“Nice one, Harley!” the Senator, who had taken the Dean’s place on the sofa and was enjoying young Barb’s oral attentions, shouted. “She felt that.”

Barb’s reactions were sufficient to finally send Big Fred over the top, “Goddammit, bitch!” he shouted as he deposited his load, which, like everything about him was extra large, in Kelly’s mouth.

Dean Carter struck again, in more or less the same spot, eliciting more or less the same undiplomatic reaction from the Ambassador.

Fred stood, raised his pants and offered his place on the sofa to his host who lowered his shorts and took the Prime Minister’s place. Kelly, well-trained by now, went to work wordlessly on her former employer, who leaned back, eyes closed, remembering earlier days when he had been starting out and it had been just him and Kelly.

The Dean delivered his third stroke, this one higher up, intersecting one of the welts that one of his old college friends had produced.

“Who’s next?” Fred asked. “Me or Robert?”

The boss interrupted his reverie for a moment. “Robert has earned the chance to administer the grand finale. You have a go, Fred.”

“No,” Barb protested. “Enough!”

“Ambassador, Moore,” the Prime Minister scolded her. “I haven’t had my turn. You are representing your great nation in my country, and you don’t want to make a bad impression, do you?”

Taking Barb’s silence as a go-ahead, Fred made a very nice impression on her tight little ass with the cruel rattan.

He followed up with two more well-aimed strokes, then handed the rattan to his fellow countryman. “Do Providencia proud, Robert,” he said.

“With pleasure, Mr. Prime Minister,” Robert replied. And he was true to his word. While all of the men had hit hard, when stacked up against Robert, they were like decent amateur tennis players as compared with a ranked professional.

The Ambassador’s howls of distress under the vigorous strokes that Robert delivered across her battered butt cheeks were music to the ears of the Senator and the boss, who soon added their contribution to dietary protein needs of young Barb and Kelly. After all, the two convicts would be back at their hard labors in the morning.

By the time Robert had given his three strokes, Barb was too exhausted to protest any further. She lay across the frame, limp, moaning softly.

“You did great, Barb!” Tara said.

“Now you don’t have to wonder what it’s like. You’re one of us!” Delia added.

Barb just moaned in response.

“Not quite,” the boss said. “What usually happens to a companion after she’s caned on the frame?”

“She gets fucked,” Delia said.

“Or she has to give a b.j.,” Tara added. “Or both, sometimes.”

Barb moaned and protested weakly.

“Come on, Barb, we’ve all done it,” Tara said.

“Gentlemen, do we want the Ambassador to have the full Pirate Cay experience?” Big Fred asked.

“Hell, yes!” Dean Carter yelled.

“Yee haw!” the Senator seconded the motion.

“Then we’re all agreed,” the billionaire said. “But just to be sure we can all do our duty, perhaps we ought to fortify ourselves. Doc?”

The doctor passed around the candy bowl and everyone helped themselves to a blue pill. All except Robert, who, having foregone the services of Kelly and young Barb, and judging by the bulge in his trousers, didn’t need any artificial help.

Soon, the boss could feel the pill taking effect. He walked around in front of Barb, lowered his shorts and stepped out of them. She looked up at him and shook her head. “No,” she muttered.

“Who do you think paid for rescuing that ass of yours, Ambassador?” he asked.

“Barb, you have to,” Tara told her. “To be one of us.”

“And they’ll cane you some more if you don’t,” Delia added. “That’s how things go on Pirate Cay. It’s best to just do what’s required.”

As he waited, he saw Fred, his extra large-sized erection sticking out like the horn on a rhino, approach from behind Barb and quickly slide inside her.

She gasped as Fred penetrated her. “Oh, I can tell you, she’s nice and wet!” he exclaimed.

Barb moaned and this time it was as much in pleasure as in pain. “I knew it!” Tara exclaimed. “Now be nice to your host,” she counselled.

Slowly, Barb opened her mouth. He inserted the tip of his erection inside. Barb didn’t do anything-she didn’t lick or suck, but at least she didn’t bite. It was far from the best he had ever experienced-certainly young Barb and Kelly were far more skilled-but she had only just arrived on Pirate Cay.

Fred accelerated his motions and soon groaned as he emptied himself into her.

As Fred pulled out the Senator elbowed his way past the Dean. “Goddammit, Harley, I’ve been waiting to fuck her ever since she came on to me like a bitch in heat in my office! I’m not going to wait another second!” He plowed into her like a Texas bull and didn’t last too long.

Harley took her hard and fast as well.

Once the Dean was done, the boss, who was getting frustrated with the lack of stimulation from her mouth, came around behind the Ambassador and sunk himself deep into her pussy. It was slimy from her secretions and those of her friends, but he didn’t mind.

He grabbed her ass in both hands and squeezed the tender, welted flesh. “Ow!” she protested. “That hurts!”

He ignored her complaints and squeezed again. He loved the involuntary writhing motion that her tight little ass made. This was what he had worked so hard for and he wasn’t going to give it up unless they came and carted him away in handcuffs. He took the Ambassador slowly, as his friends watched and cheered and the mother of his heir began stroking herself, turned on by the lewd spectacle.

Finally, he moaned and emptied himself into her, collapsing on top of her until he caught his breath and slowly withdrew. “She’s all yours, Robert,” he said.

“Just so you’re prepared, Barb, Robert likes to go in the back way,” Delia counselled.

Barb groaned.

“He saved your life, Barb,” Tara said.

That was the truth. So, Robert, after a quick delve into her well used pussy to lube up his stuff cock, spread her cheeks and did exactly as Delia had predicted.

“Nice and tight,” Robert said, as he rutted away. When he finally exploded inside her with a load groan, everyone applauded.

“Now you have really had the Pirate Cay experience,” Tara said. She began unbuckling the belt around Barb’s waist. Soon she and Delia had freed the Ambassador. “Now, let’s get you to the clinic and let the doctor take good care of you.”

She and Delia helped her to her feet and they guided her slowly past the very well satisfied men as the doctor led them out of the great room.
 

Fossy

Senator
“Her heart is strong and her buttocks are well-formed
Are they selecting a mating partner for Highland Bull?
But here on Pirate Cay once you’re tied to the frame, it’s too late to change your mind
I'm convinced they make these rules up as they go along!
“Shove your club!” Barb protested
Excellent to see that there is a little of the Moore defiance still prevailing ...
Just so you’re prepared, Barb, Robert likes to go in the back way
Like all the best Special Services guys ...

The torment is endless just as we like it here on CF!
 
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