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A Tale of Two Barbs: A Pirate Cay Adventure

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Loxuru

Graf von Kreuzigung
“Now you have really had the Pirate Cay experience,” Tara said.
"Diplomats were invented simply to waste time" (David Lloyd George).
Fits well here!:loko2:

"Diplomacy is the art of restraining power" (Henry Kissinger)
Particularly if you have mrs. ambassador stripped, restrained and whipped.:roto2nuse:

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.”
"Diplomacy is to do and say the nastiest things in the nicest way." (Isaac Goldberg).
Barb now knows this is true either!:fighting02:

“What happens on Pirate Cay…”

“Stays on Pirate Cay!”
By far the most diplomatic line coined in this story! But how will Barb explain things, once she will have to give account of her mission to POTUS?:confundio1:

"Diplomacy is the patriotic art of lying for the sake of your country!" (Ambrose Bierce).
Barb will need the skills!:roto2palm:
 

Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
30.

It wasn’t until late afternoon on the day following her after dinner caning and forced sexual servicing of the Senator, Prime Minister, College Dean, Billionaire and musclebound Robert that Barb felt ready to leave the friendly confines of the infirmary and face her hosts once again.

She was feeling troubled and had a lot on her mind. No matter how one looked at it, her situation seemed rather bleak. Her ambassadorship was a shambles. She had been fully compromised when she agreed to visit Pirate Cay at Big Fred’s behest. They had videos of her doing things that would destroy her if they were ever revealed to the State Department, or to the office of the President of the United States, not to mention poor Roger, her husband. She had allowed herself to be abducted by terrorists, divulged everything she knew under torture, only to be rescued by Robert and the Pirate Cay crowd, which added a layer of indebtedness to them, which I turn compromised her even further as an Ambassador.

In other words, they owned her.

Her reluctant acquiescence the previous night … the way in which she had allowed them to strip her naked, bind her to a frame, administer a royal thrashing to her poor ass, and then collectively and wantonly plunder her private bits, each to the ultimate satisfaction of each of the Pirate Cay crowd … was testament to the power they held over her.

Yes, they truly owned her! She was their whore to do with as they pleased. And she was not in the least bit happy about it. She swore that if she heard that trite sing-songy saying … ‘what goes on at Pirate Cay, stays on Pirate Cay’ … one more time, she would puke.

The only good thing, in her mind, was the fact that the doc seemed able to work miracles with her disinfectants, salves and ointments. Turning over on her side, as she lay on the infirmary gurney, Barb marveled at the way in which the angrily inflamed welts on her butt cheeks had shrunk and faded away to the point where they were scarcely visible some twenty hours after having been inflicted. She was still a bit sore back there, and between her legs too, but she’d live.

And, by feigning exhaustion and sleep she had been able to avoid the docs obvious carnal interests in her, although that was becoming more difficult now as the doc’s visits to the infirmary were becoming more frequent … hence Barb’s decision to get up and leave the infirmary.

So, she rose gingerly and padded nakedly across the floor to where one of those white terrycloth ‘Pirate Cay’ monogrammed robes hung on a peg. She put it on … thinking as she closed the waist tie that from somewhere in that room she was probably being video recorded. On a whim, she spun herself around, flashing a middle finger bird at all four walls. That little show of defiance made her feel a little better.


96DB664B-4D39-49B3-ACBA-F3B4428A4094.jpeg (@Fossy)

She slipped on a pair of flip flops she found, opened the door and left the clinic. The corridor outside was empty. She followed it to its end, and through a pair of glass doors, which opened out onto the lawn not far from the pool.

There she spotted the others. The billionaire and Big Fred were seated together at a table engaged in earnest conversation. Senator Fink was lying on a chaise lounge, one hand holding a drink, the other gripping a topless Delia by the hair as her head bobbed up and down, sucking furiously on his rigid member. Tara and the Dean of Pitcher College were in the pool chatting with one another, and far beyond the pool the two convicts could be seen nakedly struggling to pull a cart full of stones up a steep path leading to the top of a hill. Robert was there with them, brandishing a long whip.

And it was at that point, that the kernel of a plan began to form in Barb’s mind. It was also the moment when the boss looked up, saw her and waved her over to the poolside area.

“Well, look who’s decided to join us!” greeted Big Fred jovially.

Barb smiled wanly in response, then took a seat at the table with the PM and the Boss, grimacing a little as her sore bottom settled on her chair’s hard plastic seat.

“No hard feelings about last night, right?” continued Fred conversationally. “I must say you were a very good sport about it all, and may I add that you, my dear, have one of the juiciest warm cunts and delectably tight little butts I’ve seen in a long time. I suppose that’s a northern girl thing, right? … how’s that song go?… something about keeping their boyfriends warm at night? Haha.”

“Seriously, Barb,” chimed in the Boss, “What we said last night about you being one of us now holds true. You’ve got that fixed in your head by now I hope. You’re in good hands with us. We can help you make a success of your ambassadorship and can share all the private pleasures of Pirate Cay with you, just so long as you play it our way. So sit back, relax and enjoy all we have to offer you. We’ve seen signs that it suits your innermost desires. Let them free. Let them guide you.”

“Yes, I see what you’re saying …” she responded slowly, just as the Senator bellowed his pleasure over a successful conclusion to the blowjob Delia had been giving him.

“Excellent!” said the Boss. “I knew you would. Now why don’t you show me that you mean it by doffing that robe, getting down on your knees and servicing me like Delia just did for Mo.”

“Perhaps I will, but there’s something I’d like to raise with you first.”

“You’ve already raised my thing, Barb. But, sure … what’s on your mind?”

“Well, it’s about those two convict girls. I have to admit that I’m fascinated by them and their plight,” she said slowly, slipping her robe off one shoulder, then the other to bare herself to the waist.

“Go on,” urged the Boss, sliding his chair back from the table and pointing to the pavement beneath and between his open legs.

“I mean,” Barb continued, shedding her robe the rest of the way and kneeling where he had indicated, “Ever since I saw those poor girls being whipped … here at that post by the pool. Ever since I participated, however ineffectively, in laying a lash on their bare backs … I … well, it’s so hard to articulate. Let’s just say I felt something … a kind of deep inner arousal … stimulated by seeing them helplessly whipped … but even more so … even more so by imagining myself in their place! I know it sounds crazy, but I’d like to experience what they experience … living and working under the constant threat of the lash as they do.”

“Nothing here on this island is crazy.” responded the Boss, nudging her head closer to his erection.

“No! I mean, I’d like so much … just for a day, mind you … certainly not permanently … to share their sorry existence … spend my night with them, bound together side-by-side on the hard ground, share their meager meals, labor alongside them in the heat of the day … exhausted and straining under the pain of Robert’s lash … and then submit to any end of the day punishments I might deserve for my shortcomings during the day’s labors.”

“Sure, Barb. Whatever you like,” soothed the Boss, pressing her head down.

“Yes, well I ….. mmphhhhhhhhh”

*************

As the sun sank into the sea in a blaze of multi-hued glory and dusk settled in over Pirate Cay, Barb found herself settling in to share the night with Kelly and the younger Barb. All three were bound together, naked, sitting on a bed of filthy straw, with their backs pressed against the roughly hewn log wall of one of the island’s old plantation slave quarters … one of several places on the island where the convicts slept depending on the next day’s assigned tasks. Barb was situated between the other two. All were held in place by an iron collar chained to an iron bracket on the wall. Their ankles were shackled and their wrists secured behind their backs.

It had been a mere hour earlier that the Boss had summoned Robert poolside and told him of Barb’s desire to experience a day in the life of a convict sentenced to hard labor. Robert had laughed, pronouncing her crazy, but readily agreed. He had disappeared, only to quickly return carrying an armful of restraints, including a rusty iron neck collar.

“Ready!” he had announced, adding that it was getting late, and that he had already bedded the other two convicts down for the night, and reminding everyone that proper hard labor begins well before the crack of dawn.

Barb was in the pool at the time, clinging white-knuckled to the rim of the pool while getting vigorously fucked from behind by Harley, the Dean of Pitcher College, while Delia and Tara looked on disinterestedly. But as soon as the Dean had finished with her Barb had been delivered to Robert by the two companions, who assisted him with the shackling of her ankles and wrists, and affixing the iron collar around her neck. After that, she had been led away by Robert, awkwardly hobbling along behind him. As she left the pool area a small stream of the Dean’s load could be seen by the others, snaking down the inside of one of her legs and catching the fading light.

Inside the slave quarters she had been presented by Robert to Kelly and the younger Barb as their new companion for the morning’s labor detail. He had added, with a disinterested shrug, that Barb had informed the boss that she wanted a firsthand experience of what it was like to do hard labor. Ordered to make room, the two real convicts, who were already seated against the wall, had wearily parted enough to make space for her to be inserted and secured against the wall between them.

“This place is absolutely filthy. What a stink!” exclaimed Barb with obvious distaste as soon as Robert had left. “And how do you guys get any rest trussed up like this?”

“Soooo … what’s it to you?” retorted Kelly irritably, shifting her position enough to open a gap between her own shoulder and flank and Barb’s. Humidity and stifling heat in the closed space made her skin clammy enough without close contact. “I can’t imagine why you want to be here. You’re, after all, the U.S. Ambassador to this shithole country. Is this some kind of goofy stunt? What the fuck are you trying to prove?”

“No! It’s not some kind of stunt. I requested it for a good reason. Hear me out, please.”

“I think it’s more important that we all try to get some rest,” retorted Kelly fiercely.

“Listen! When I became ambassador I was told to be wary of what goes on here on this island, and I was also told … that if I got the opportunity … I might try to look into the plight of two American women, identities unknown, that the State Department believes to have been unjustly tried, convicted and imprisoned by the authorities here in Providencia. You two are those women. I know that now, and I’ve gone to the trouble of finagling a way to put myself in here alone with you for a day. I did so … at the likely cost of subjecting myself to considerable discomfort and pain … as a means of hearing your story firsthand. If I can identify you and learn your story, I figure that I just might be able to not only help you by getting that information to the relevant federal authorities back in the States, but to use what I have learned to redeem myself from the errors in judgement I have made in my short time here in Providencia … and to gain some useful leverage over both the Boss and the Prime Minister.”

“You’re nuts! Let’s get some sleep.”

“No, please talk to me. Tell me who you are and where you are from?”

“Alright. If you must know, I’m Kelly … Kelly Winters, and that’s Barb … Barb Moore. I’m from upstate New York and she’s from Minnesota.”

“I see. And did you really commit murder? Were you fairly tried, convicted and sent here to labor under such appallingly brutal conditions, or was it all a sham?”

“That’s complicated, but no, we didn’t exactly murder anyone. It was more a matter of self defense. And if you continue to hang around with us here, come morning you’ll learn what ‘appallingly brutal’ really means. Now enough chit-chat, let’s all get some sleep!”

“Wait, I do intend to still be here come morning … you’ll see … and one more thing … did I hear you correctly? … did you say her name was Barbara Moore and that she’s from Minnesota? I’ve the same name and I’m from Minnesota too.”

“That is very strange” interjected the younger Barb, entering the conversation for the first time. “I don’t know of you nor have I ever seen you before you turned up here with Big Fred and participated in whipping Kelly and me. Having the same name and coming from the same state is kinda weird, but must be just a coincidence of some kind, I suppose. I can’t imagine that we are at all related.”

“Yeah, most likely a coincidence,” conceded Barb. “So, tell me … how did you get here? You didn’t come directly from Minnesota, right? You’re one of the Boss’s so called ‘companions’, lured down here from Pitcher College, I presume?”

“Yeah, it’s a long story,” conceded the younger Barb.


“And we’ve no time for it tonight,” snapped Kelly, feeling anxious to end the conversation before it moved on to questions about her former role as the boss’s recruiter. “Robert and his fucking bullwhip will be here before the crack of dawn. And I overheard the Boss telling Big Fred that our work assignment tomorrow is to dig up and move an impossible amount of dirt, and that they were sure to have the enjoyment of watching us be punished tomorrow evening after we fall woefully short of the prescribed goal, which he knew we inevitably would. Maybe it’s good that the ambassador plans to stay with us? We might have a fighting chance with three of us wielding shovels to prove them wrong and actually finish the job, but I wouldn’t count on it. They’re not likely to let us off easily when they’ve got their little hearts set on watching us suffer as their evening’s entertainment.”
 
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montycrusto

Slave Trader
And it was at that point, that the kernel of a plan began to form in Barb’s mind
Oh well that’s good.. because those have never gone awry.. :confused:
All were held in place by an iron collar chained to an iron bracket on the wall. Their ankles were shackled and their wrists secured behind their backs.
Mm yes.. that’s the sort of treatment I like to see them get! :devil:
Great chapter!
 

Fossy

Senator
forced sexually servicing of the Senator, Prime Minister, College Dean, Billionaire and musclebound Robert
Damn ... what a girl!
She had allowed herself to be abducted by terrorists, divulged everything she knew under torture
I think Old Barb is being a little harsh on herself ...
and then submit to any end of the day punishments I might deserve for my shortcomings during the day’s labors.
Fuck yeah ...

... and the Twain finally meet. Old meets young and I must say Old Barb is going over, above and beyond in her quest to help the mistreated girls of Pirate Clay.

Excellent chapter ...
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
She was feeling troubled and had a lot on her mind.
Ya think??:eek:
She was their whore to do with as they pleased.
Nice to see the old Barb back! :very_hot:
On a whim, she spun herself around, flashing a middle finger bird at all four walls. That little show of defiance made her feel a little better.
Yes. A very nice bit of the Barb we know and love (to punish).
have one of the juiciest warm cunts and delectably tight little butts I’ve seen in a long time.
Any of us could have told him that! So fucking good!
“No! I mean, I’d like so much … just for a day, mind you … certainly not permanently … to share their sorry existence … spend my night with them, bound together side-by-side on the hard ground, share their meager meals, labor alongside them in the heat of the day … exhausted and straining under the pain of Robert’s lash … and then submit to any end of the day punishments I might deserve for my shortcomings during the day’s labors.”
Is this a plan or a secret desire awaken by the wonderful caning and rape? Inquiring minds want to know.

Excellent chapter.
 
Great chapter, @Barbaria1

I have thoughts and questions:

So Barb has the presence of mind to consider secret cameras in the infirmary, would it not therefore also be logical there might be one at the slave quarters? After all, one tends to monitor convicts guilty of murder and the Boss is a freaking Billionaire, he probably has the resources to afford night vision cameras…

Is her plan to therefore become personally enslaved permanently? I imagine a letter to the POTUS “we deeply regret to inform Ambassador Moore succumbed to her wounds from her kidnappers” or even “ the rebels planted an IUD IED which vaporized the unfortunate Ambassador en route back to the embassy “…

Then the story becomes “a tale of two enslaved Barbs”, both of whom, I might add, swallow!

Will the real Barbara Moore please stand up?

I’m looking forward to reading Moore of you her toiling under the lash, and sincerely hope they fail to reach quota!

The following chapter can be when they inform her that, unfortunately, they will (sadly) not be in a position to unlock her chains… was that her cunning plan all along?

:babeando: :roflmao: :span1:
 

montycrusto

Slave Trader
Great chapter, @Barbaria1

I have thoughts and questions:

So Barb has the presence of mind to consider secret cameras in the infirmary, would it not therefore also be logical there might be one at the slave quarters? After all, one tends to monitor convicts guilty of murder and the Boss is a freaking Billionaire, he probably has the resources to afford night vision cameras…

Is her plan to therefore become personally enslaved permanently? I imagine a letter to the POTUS “we deeply regret to inform Ambassador Moore succumbed to her wounds from her kidnappers” or even “ the rebels planted an IUD IED which vaporized the unfortunate Ambassador en route back to the embassy “…

Then the story becomes “a tale of two enslaved Barbs”, both of whom, I might add, swallow!

Will the real Barbara Moore please stand up?

I’m looking forward to reading Moore of you her toiling under the lash, and sincerely hope they fail to reach quota!

The following chapter can be when they inform her that, unfortunately, they will (sadly) not be in a position to unlock her chains… was that her cunning plan all along?

:babeando: :roflmao: :span1:
The problem there, is that if Barb is actually planning to make her own plans go wrong, then if her plans go right they go wrong, and if they go wrong they go right. The only answer to such a logical paradox is hard labour with regular corporal punishment.
 

Loxuru

Graf von Kreuzigung
“Listen! When I became ambassador I was told to be wary of what goes on here on this island, and I was also told … that if I got the opportunity … I might try to look into the plight of two American women, identities unknown, that the State Department believes to have been unjustly tried, convicted and imprisoned by the authorities here in Providencia. You two are those women. I know that now, and I’ve gone to the trouble of finagling a way to put myself in here alone with you for a day. I did so … at the likely cost of subjecting myself to considerable discomfort and pain … as a means of hearing your story firsthand. If I can identify you and learn your story, I figure that I just might be able to not only help you by getting that information to the relevant federal authorities back in the States, but to use what I have learned to redeem myself from the errors in judgement I have made in my short time here in Providencia … and to gain some useful leverage over both the Boss and the Prime Minister.”
Barb has a cunning plan! Turn the shambles of her ambassadorship, all her debaucherous acts on Pirate Cay Island, into a deliberate undercover mission to rescue two American women, that have been unjustly tried!?:hsughwiggle:

Let's hope she read the fine print of her own plan!:eeek:
(can't she arrange with Leo to get the girls a diplomatic passport, so they can leave Providencia? They certainly will thank him by every means he desires!):b2:

They had videos of her doing things that would destroy her if they were ever revealed to the State Department, or to the office of the President of the United States,
"I can explain it all, Mister President!" :roto2nuse:
(see remark above):rolleyes:

If the plan works, POTUS will probably order to store the videos here:

warehouse1.jpgwarehouse2.jpg
 

Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
31.

“Alright, you lazy bitches! Rise and shine!” snarled Robert as he dumped a large bucket of icy cold water over the heads of the three sleeping convicts, one of whom actually was only playing at being one.

“Fuck!” she shouted.

“No complaints, Ambassador!” laughed Robert. “You asked for the full treatment and, believe me, I’m going to see that you get it! Now hold still while I set you and the other two free.”

After which he released each of their neck collars from the chains that held them in a sitting position with their backs to the wall of the old plantation slave quarters where they had spent an uncomfortable night. Their wrists, which had been bound behind their backs, were also freed. The workday was about to begin.

“Do we get any breakfast before work?” inquired Barb as she slowly rose, stretched her limbs and rubbed her sore wrists.

The younger Barb sniggered.

“You want breakfast, eh?” guffawed Robert. “That’s rich! What do you think this is? A tea party? I’ll tell you what. You get down on your knees in front of me and suck me off, and you can swallow my load and call it breakfast!”

“I most certainly will not!”

“You will if I say so … and I just did. Do it! Now! Or feel the bite of my whip!”

“Do it!” snapped Kelly irritably. “Best not to start the day off on the wrong foot with Robert, not only for your own sake, Lady Hifalutin Ambassador, but for the rest of us too.”

With pouty face, Barb reluctantly complied, kneeling before Robert, unzipping the fly of his shorts, and taking his swollen cock in her hands. Grimacing, she slipped the rigid shaft into her mouth, and proceeded dutifully to do what was demanded … eventually gagging over the inevitable result.

“Good enough,” proclaimed Robert, backing fastidiously away as she retched. “Everyone on their feet now and outside. There’s a shitload of work to be done today, and there’ll be consequences, as you sluts well know, if it’s not completed by the time the dinner hour is over at the big house.”

They all filed out into the open, Kelly and the younger Barb first, followed haltingly by Ambassador Barb who kept stopping to distastefully spit remnants of Robert’s vile load on the ground. All were hobbled by shackles at the ankles.

Descending a slope, they soon found themselves crossing the lawn before the big house and making their way out onto a strip of beach. The sun was just rising over the still Caribbean. The sky was cloudless. There wasn’t even the fainted sign of a breeze. It promised to be a very hot and sultry day.

“Alright, listen up you sluts!” commanded Robert, standing near the low stone wall that separated the lawn from the beach, feet firmly planted, hands on his hips, coiled bullwhip attached to his belt. “Your task for the day is to move sand … lots of sand! You’re to use those shovels lying over there to dig a pit. It’s to be roughly fifteen feet wide and about four or five feet deep … big enough for the three of you to get in. Got it?”

They nodded collectively, although Barb looked a bit uncertain.

“You can pile the excavated sand over there,” he continued pointing to a nearby area of the beach.

“But Robert, the sand is pretty wet this morning … it’s got to be really heavy,” objected the younger Barb.

“Yep, that’s true, but you’ll manage and do what’s demanded anyway, WON’T you?”

Collective nod again.

“But wait, there’s more. When you’ve finished, you’ll dig a second pit of equal size nearby and fill it with the sand from the first pit.”

“And let me guess,” said Kelly, sporting a knowing but resigned expression. “We’re to put the sand from the second pit in the first.”

“Yep, you’ve got it,” grinned Robert.

“Fuck!” cried the older Barb, now sporting an incensed expression. “In other words, you’ll have us digging holes to fill other holes. That doesn’t accomplish anything! It’s completely pointless, not to mention cruel!”

“Yep, and you’d better get cracking! And just to instill a spirit of competition in your pretty little heads, anyone I see not holding up their end will feel the kiss of my whip on their backside or titties. And, fair warning … failure to complete the project by day’s end means all three of you will enjoy a joint session at the whipping post later tonight!”

Kelly and the younger Barb both responded to that by casting doubtful looks at the ambassador playing at convict, who replied gamely, “Okay. I know what you two are thinking. You’re thinking I can’t hack it. Well I can and I will. Don’t worry. I fully intend to hold up my end.”

And so the day of hard grueling labor began.

Under Robert’s watchful eye, as he relaxed under an umbrella, stretched out on a chaise lounge sipping beer, his three charges began toiling at excavating the first pit. And, as the day’s heat began to rise, all three were soon sweating profusely, their naked bodies glistening in the harsh sunlight as they strained to move shovelful after shovelful of the heavy wet sand.

By mid-morning they stood nearly waist deep in the first pit, their efforts now further hampered by the natural dampness seeping up from below … sufficient enough to begin flooding the bottom of the hole, which had begun to resemble a soupy morass.

By that time the billionaire and several others had dragged lawn chairs and umbrellas down to the edge of the beach to watch the convicts performing the day’s forced labor.

“Come on, Ambassador! Put your damned Yankee back into it!” shouted the Texan Senator.

“She’s definitely falling off the pace!” remarked Harley, the College Dean, as he beckoned former Pitcher student Delia over to his side and pointed meaningfully at the bulge under his shorts.

“I’d say our little ambassador slut is proving to be the slacker of this crew,” agreed Big Fred. “Time to give her a little incentive?”

“Robert! You heard the judgements of my colleagues. Kindly apply a little work ethic incentive to Ambassador Moore’s backside, please.” ordered the boss.

Responding with his usual display of over-the-top athleticism, Robert complied by leaping to his feet, uncoiling his whip and unleashing a sharp zinging stroke across Barb’s back … causing her to jump and yelp in surprise, drop her shovel and turn towards the source of the lash … just in time to catch a second one, striking low across her belly, wrapping around to grab at her hip and send her sprawling against the side of the pit.

“You heard them, Moore!” snarled Robert. “Stop shirking and up your game!”

Wiping her brow with her arm, she stared stonily at him, then at the boss and the other onlookers for a very long moment before wearily retrieving her shovel and returning to the task of digging. As she scooped a fresh shovelful from the bottom of the pit, she glanced over her shoulder and couldn’t help but notice the satisfied smirks displayed by her coworkers.

That did it! Something snapped inside her, and she threw her next shovelful directly in their surprised faces. Moments later all three were grappling with one another in a tangled melee at the bottom of the pit.

7B1BD9B1-4209-4489-B9F6-93D8C76C39AD.jpeg (@settantuno)

“Catfight!” shouted Mo Fink gleefully. “Yeehaw! Will ya look at that! It’s a fucking nude catfight!”

Taken by surprise, the true convicts were overwhelmed at first by the ferocity with which Barb tore into them, sending them sprawling to the muddy bottom of the pit and then setting upon them with clenched fists.

But it wasn’t long before numbers mattered, and Kelly succeeded in dragging Barb away from her younger namesake, pulling her backwards in a headlock, and forcing her to a kneeling position. Scrambling to her feet, the younger Barb proceeded to kick her helpless assailant in the gut, doubling her over with the wind partially knocked from her.

“Bitch!” growled Kelly, as she followed up by grabbing a fistful of Barb’s hair, before driving her forward and grinding her face in the wet sand.

But, summoning her last reserves of strength and energy, Barb suddenly twisted right, elbowed Kelly, and rolled free, only to be re-engaged by the other two who were quickly upon her once again to mete out more punishment.

“Enough!” shouted Robert hopping into the pit, only to become himself entangled in the seething mass of nakedly intertwined bodies, and flailing arms and legs.

“Delia!” Get in there and help Robert,” ordered the boss.

Releasing the Dean’s still-unsatisfied member from her grip, Delia rose to obey, but not before the Dean managed to undo and relieve her of her bikini top as she backed away and shout cheerily. “Yeah, get in there and give them hell for good old Pitcher, Delia!”

Wading into the fracas, she and Robert managed eventually to pry the two convicts off of Barb, and restore some semblance of order.

By then the boss was on his feet and decreeing that the labor project be curtailed for the day and that everyone involved in the unseemly fight pay the price for such bad behavior.

“Robert and Delia, I want to see all three of them staked out under the sun on the lawn for the rest of the day. Let them broil their rebelliousness away. Then, following dinner, their punishment will continue as they’ll all have a collective date with the whipping post over by the pool. See to it!”

With that he turned on his heel to go up to the house, saying that he had various financial matters to attend to before lunch. Billionaires, after all, must keep an eye on the markets. Fred, Mo and Harley, however, remained on the scene, having volunteered readily to assist with the task of staking out Kelly and the two Barbs.

By the time lunch was served, the convicts had been staked out, in spread-eagle fashion, on the lawn for more than an hour. The sun had risen to its zenith, and the sweat poured from their every pore. Their only relief was the fact that Delja, every so often, would get up off her poolside lounge chair, where she was sunning herself alongside Tara, to saunter over and offer each of them a sip on a straw from a bottle of lukewarm water.

Conversation between the three spreadeagled “convicts” had been intense and vitriolic at first, with Kelly and the younger Barb chastising ambassador Barb for getting them into this mess, and Barb responding defensively. Eventually, though, heat and exhaustion had brokered an uneasy truce. And silence, with the exception of occasional moans and groans, prevailed, while over by the pool a festive atmosphere had settled in as the Senator, Dean and Prime Minister drank and chatted in happy anticipation of the promised after dinner whipping extravaganza.

“Three naked bitches bound to one post,” enthused the Dean. “Isn’t that a vision to die for?”

“Indeed,” agreed Big Fred. “Not only do we have our little ambassador slut under our thumb, but she seems to have a talent for digging whatever hole she may be in deeper and deeper.”

The Senator chuckled at Fred’s tongue in cheek reference to the beach pit fiasco. “That she does … yes, that she does. I knew it from the day she turned up in my office lobbying for her ambassadorial appointment and thinking that I was as dumb as a Texas longhorn … that all she had to do was flash her tits and cunt at me and I’d be sure to fall for the ruse.”

“I think at tonight’s whipping that we three should apply the lash to all three of them simultaneously and watch them dance and squirm in unison, what do you fellas say,” suggested the Dean.

“I’ll bet that’s exactly what the boss is planning,” said the Senator.

“And definitely video record the whole thing,” enthused Fred, thinking of posterity. “Definitely something to be relived again and again. The whole thought of it makes me hard. Delia, dear, would you mind coming over here? I have need of your services.”


“Me too!” laughed the Senator. “When Fred is finished with you, darlin.”
 
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montycrusto

Slave Trader
she seems to have a talent for digging whatever hole she may be in deeper and deeper.
In many ways this was the perfect job for Barb.. digging herself deeper into a hole :rolleyes:
Moments later all three were grappling with one another in a tangled melee at the bottom of the pit
I kind of predicted this would happen. And also fervently hoped it would ! :devil:
Great stuff!! :enamorado:
 

Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
With pouty face, Barb reluctantly complied
Sooooo typical!
You’re to use those shovels lying over there to dig a pit.
My first thought was that they were little plastic toy shovels in pretty colors. That would make it a hard job!.
“Catfight!” shouted Mo Fink gleefully. “Yeehaw! Will ya look at that! It’s a fucking nude catfight!”
Fuckin-A!!! :clapping: :clapping: :clapping: :clapping: :clapping: :clapping:
“Indeed,” agreed Big Fred. “Not only do we have our little ambassador slut under our thumb, but she seems to have a talent for digging whatever hole she may be in deeper and deeper.”
You know. For all his self-indulgent corruption, Big Fred is highly perceptive!

Another fine chapter, Ambassador, er - student, er -whoever you are now Barb!
 

Fossy

Senator
one of whom actually was only playing at being one.
Not sure that's gonna make the slightest bit of difference :) ...

You asked for the full treatment and, believe me, I’m going to see that you get it!
Nope, it's not ...

You get down on your knees in front of me and suck me off, and you can swallow my load and call it breakfast!
Ahhhh, the continental breakfast ...

I think at tonight’s whipping that we three should apply the lash to all three of them simultaneously and watch them dance and squirm in unison
Now that's entertainment!

Excellent and very provocative chapter ...
 

Loxuru

Graf von Kreuzigung
“Alright, you lazy bitches! Rise and shine!” snarled Robert as he dumped a large bucket of icy cold water over the heads of the three sleeping convicts,
Icy cold water? In Providencia? Do they keep it in the fridge especially for that use?:confundio1:

“Catfight!” shouted Mo Fink gleefully. “Yeehaw! Will ya look at that! It’s a fucking nude catfight!”
Ambassador Moore involved in a nude catfight?:very_hot:
That's too tempting to ignore::coti:

"Catfight is diplomacy by using other means!":D
 
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