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A Tale of Two Barbs: A Pirate Cay Adventure
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
Wow! Love this
twonines
LIMERICUS
Collective punishments are all well and good, but the Boss is missing a trick here. The indisciplined Ambassador is obviously the most culpable and deserving of an exemplary punishment in her own right. This would bring her day of servitude to a memorable conclusion and provide the evening`s entertainment with a fitting climax, not to mention completing the breaking of Minnesota Moore.
Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
Quite astute analysis here! I wholeheartedly agree, the Boss should seek to make quite the impression on her unmarked flesh, particularly such a tight little plus the tumescent pair…
32.
By evening the long hours of lying staked out and spreadeagled under the sun on the billionaire’s villa lawn had taken their toll. Conversation between the two convicts and Ambassador Barb, as she had come to be known on the island, had long since died away … which was good because the exchanges had consisted almost entirely of recriminations and invective.
The two real convicts had by then come to hold the older Barb in contempt. They had little faith in her ability to deliver on her stated intention to help them. And her play-acting at experiencing a day in the life of a convict had accomplished nothing but making their day more miserable than it might otherwise have been, with the promise of worse yet to come.
The only good thing was that Robert had gone off to do something at his master’s bidding, leaving Delia behind to watch over them and periodically administer sips of water to soothe their parched throats. But blazing heat, as they lay naked under the sun, had been theirs to endure, and only as the evening hours approached had they been able to enjoy a whisper of cooling light breeze.
The onset of evening, however, had brought a new discomfort … hunger. For the Pirate Cay staff had set about preparing a fancy poolside feast for the pleasure of the billionaire and his entourage. And it wasn’t long before the tantalizing aroma of a pig roasting on a spit had wafted over in their direction.
“My God … I’m starved. That smells so good,” gasped the older Barb, able to no longer hold her silence.
“Well, forget it!” snapped the younger Barb. “We aren’t likely to get anything from them tonight but a thorough whipping, no thanks to you.”
“Okay, maybe I made a mistake. You and Kelly really don’t need me. Uh … hey Delia … perhaps you could inform the boss that I’ve changed my mind and no longer am interested in finding out what it’s like to be a convict?”
“Sorry, Ambassador. I was told by the boss to expect that from you and instructed to remind you that here on Pirate Cay a deal is a deal. He granted your wish. You need to go through with it.”
“Oh shit!”
*********
A couple of hours later, the billionaire and his guests, along with Robert, Delia and Tara were gathered poolside to be served a traditional Caribbean repast … spit-roasted pig, glazed with a tropical fruit blend and seasoned with aromatic spices … and served with heaping side dishes of whipped sweet potatoes, roasted plums, and baked cakes of buttered cornmeal cou-cou. All washed down with a selection of the very finest of local wines, and followed with spiced Caribbean rum cake for dessert.
Dinner talk ranged widely, but as the meal wore on, more and more attention was devoted to anticipating the evening’s entertainment … which everyone knew to be a triple whipping, featuring the two convicts and Ambassador Barb bound naked to the whipping post that stood near the pool. But particularly prominent in the discussion was speculation surrounding the fact that the whipping post had been mysteriously shrouded under a gray tarp.
“Why the mysterious tarp?” queried Big Fred as he looped his arm around Delia, who happened to be sitting next to him, to pull her closer.
“I think it’s a surprise, the boss and Robert cooked up this afternoon.” she replied, giggling as the PM slid his hand up under her tee to cup and squeeze a breast.
“I noticed Robert earlier working on something or other out in the tool shed,” chimed in Tara, as she pushed away the remnants of her dessert and took a dainty sip from the glass of juice the boss insisted she drink in lieu of wine.
“Perhaps Robert was just refurbishing that old whipping post?” offered the Dean. “I noticed yesterday that it was looking quite weathered and a bit cracked and splintery in places. There’s always a need for things to be well-maintained, you know … just as there is with a well-oiled, smoothly running college.”
“Or a good political fundraising operation,” added the Senator, warming to a subject near and dear to his big Texan heart.
“Or a sprawling financial empire … but sorry, I have to say that you’re all wrong,” laughed the billionaire. “I can promise, though, that you’ll see what’s under that tarp soon enough … soon as the staff clear the dishes away and we are ready for the evening’s special entertainment event.”
**********
A half hour later they were all seated in a semi-circle around the mysteriously shrouded whipping post. It was dusk. And the glow of the mini-LED lights strung decoratively overhead, all around the pool area, gave the whole scene a rather festive look.
“Well, this is it,” announced the billionaire. “The moment we’ve all been anticipating is here. Robert! Would you be so kind at this time as to go down towards the beach and bring those convicts up here poolside?”
“Sure, boss, with pleasure.”
“Mo and Fred! Would you mind giving Robert a hand with that?”
“Not at all,” they chorused.
Everyone else settled back to wait. And it wasn’t too long before Robert, Mo and Fred reappeared, driving the three naked ‘convicts’ before them like a herd of cattle.
“Yi-haw … get along little slutties!” the Texas Senator could be heard bellowing enthusiastically, followed by a high-pitched buzz and an anguished yelp from Kelly.
“What was that?” gasped Tara.
“One of Robert’s new toys,” grinned the boss with a sly wink. “The Senator gifted him a set of three shiny-new Texas cattle prods as a reward for pulling off the Ambassador’s rescue. That’s why I sent the three of them down there to fetch the convicts.”
Three more buzzes and a chorus of squeals and shrieks split the night air as the convict girls came on … running awkwardly, with fettered ankles and hands clasped behind their heads POW-style … the cattle-prod-wielding men close behind.
Moments later the girls had been corralled together by the shrouded whipping post … panting heavily, and looking about apprehensively.
Stepping away from the others, Barb attempted to make a last ditch plea directly to the boss, saying, “Look! I’ve changed my mind. I’m no longer interested in finding out what it’s like to be a convict condemned to hard labor on Pirate Cay. I’ve had enough of it. I’ve learned it’s no fun. Now, let me go, please.”
“Sorry, Ambassador. I can’t do that. Delia was instructed to tell you no already, and I’m sure she did. But I’ll go over it again anyway. I’m a very successful business man. That means that in my world a deal is a deal … that is, unless you’ve got a lawyer clever enough to get you out of it, which you, my dear, do not. So kindly step back now and take your place with the others … or I’ll order Robert to apply his cattle prod to something other than your tight little ass!”
Barb frowned, hesitated, looked like she was going to protest, but then thought better of it and sullenly stepped back.
“Nice play, Shakespeare,” jeered the younger Barb, pleased to see that her older namesake was not about to get away with anything.
Barb stuck out her tongue.
“Alright, enough you two! We’ll have no more discussion. All is in readiness,” pronounced the boss. “Robert, please have the honor of unveiling the post.”
Reaching up to grab the tarp near the top, Robert removed it with a flourish … a flourish immediately met by a collective gasp, followed by a spontaneous round of applause. For, as some had guessed, the post had indeed been refurbished with a fresh and glossy coat of white paint, and it now featured three, rather than two, sets of shiny new wrist cuffs dangling from short lengths of chain secured to the top of the post.
But what caught everyone’s eye and astonished approval were the three large horn-shaped, bulbously-headed, stiff rubber dildos … each of them glistening under the LED lighting with a generous coating of lubricant gel, and each affixed firmly at their base, at an appropriately useful height, to the main body of the post.
“Yi-haw!” exclaimed the Senator. “Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! Not only are we a goin’ to whip the freakin’ hides off these little slutties, but at the same time we’re a goin’ to whip them to orgasm!”
To which the older and younger Barb both cried in unison, “Oh shit!”
Kelly just shook her head in disbelief.
And so it all began in earnest. Eager hands rushed the three women to the post, stretching their arms overhead and locking their wrists in waiting cuffs.
Forced to face the post, they found themselves encircling it, crammed close together, shoulders and flanks touching, toes scrabbling for purchase on the ground, dildos butting uncomfortably against their lower abdomens.
“You know,” remarked Fred to the boss as an aside when they had stepped back to admire their handiwork, “the more I look at and compare the tight little asses on the two Barbs, the more I see a definite resemblance.”
He received a knowing grin and a wink in reply.
“Alright, let’s get those pussies fixed over those eagerly awaiting dildos!” ordered the boss.
Barb flinched as she felt Fred’s huge hands grip her tightly at the hips and lift her up and away from the post. She immediately began, knowing full well what was in the offing, to kick and squirm wildly, screaming “Nooooo!” at the top of her lungs. But another pair of hands … she thought Robert’s … had her by the ankles, maneuvering her in concert with Fred until she was positioned such that the dildo pressed up against her pussy, its well-lubricated head already beginning to work its way into her slit.
From there it was all downhill. A sharp downward thrust on her hips by Fred and it was quickly over. She’d been dildo impaled!
And in like manner, so had Kelly and the younger Barb.
“Alright,” breathed the boss, a bit winded by the struggle he had encountered, despite the Dean’s assistance, in getting a wildly bucking and kicking Kelly in place on her dildo.
None of the three convicts had accepted their fate willingly. The Senator and Delia were in fact still battling a fiercely resistant younger Barb. But with Robert coming to their assistance, she too succumbed to the inevitable, turning her anger and frustration on her older namesake, shouting, “Now see what you’ve gotten us into!”
Barb was about to reply, but Fred clamped a stifling hand over her mouth.
“Okay, we’re ready for the whipping now!” announced the boss. “I want three whippers to go at them simultaneously, starting with Fred, Mo and Harley. Ten strokes each, gentlemen. And don’t hold back. Give ‘em hell! And then, while you take a break, Robert, Delia and I will administer the next ten. The object, remember, is to whip them to orgasm. Place your strokes so as to get them to both rub up against one another and especially to writhe about on those dildos. The idea is to heighten both their pain and their pleasure. We keep at it, round after round, until they all orgasm!”
“I have dibs on our little socialist Yankee Ambassador,” announced Mo.
“And I have Kelly, our discredited college recruiter,” crowed the Dean.
“And I the other Barb,” said Fred, eying her tight bottom with obvious relish.
“Shit! Here it comes,” groaned the younger Barb, casting an apprehensive glance over her left shoulder.
A moment later, all were slammed against the post and against one another by the force of lash strokes that broke across their bare backs. The post shuddered under the collective impact. Then a series of groans, cries, shrieks and grunts filled the air as coordinated volleys followed, working systematically over the girls’ backsides, ranging from shoulders down to buttocks and back again, but particularly on their lower backs and bottoms.
(@settantuno)
Then a brief pause ensued as the second team took over.
Kelly, through clenched teeth, sought to advise the others, “You heard the boss. We know what they want to see. If we want to get out of this hellish farce alive, and sooner than later, we all need to get ourselves off on these fucking dildos, and fast!”
The whipping resumed … more shrieks, screams and curses, blended with the crack and zing of leather flying through the air and the smack of impact on bare flesh again filled the night air. But now, in addition to being slammed against the post and one another, each of the girls was working hard, each in her own way, to get herself off on her dildo.
Tara, seated on a nearby chair, was busy with the task delegated to her … capturing the whole lurid scene with a handheld video cam.
Twenty lashes had soon been administered, and while the whipping teams switched, Kelly gasped, “I’m almost there. Anyone else? If not, hurry, damn it!”
But before the third round could begin, Fred insisted on making the rounds, squatting behind each of the victims and probing with a finger between their thighs to gauge progress.
“Kelly’s definitely ahead,” he announced, “she’s really wet, and I judge the younger Barb to be not far behind. Ambassador Barb, though, still has some work to do!”
“Shit!” hissed the younger Barb. “What the fuck? Are you trying to get us all killed? Hurry up and get one off, will ya!”
Barb was about to reply, but a lash ripping across and digging deep into her ass flesh forced an anguished scream instead.
Halfway through the third set of ten, the Dean was the first to announce success as his victim, Kelly, went suddenly rigid and emitted a long throaty howl. Two lashes later the younger Barb followed suit. And finally, but not until the thirtieth stroke had been administered, Ambassador Barb lost it, jumping about and shaking in the throes of a giant orgasm that could be seen coursing in waves through her battered body.
(@Fossy)
At the sight of it, everyone did celebratory high fives … with the Senator, who had responsibility for whipping the ambassador on that round, accepting a cascade of congratulatory slaps on the back.
“Did you get it all on video, Tara?” queried the boss.
She nodded affirmatively.
Great! Well done everyone! Show’s over. Robert and Delia, kindly hose down our three friends. Get the convicts bedded down for the night, and Ambassador Moore over to the infirmary. Everyone else … back to the house for nightcaps and a screening of Tara’s video.”
By evening the long hours of lying staked out and spreadeagled under the sun on the billionaire’s villa lawn had taken their toll. Conversation between the two convicts and Ambassador Barb, as she had come to be known on the island, had long since died away … which was good because the exchanges had consisted almost entirely of recriminations and invective.
The two real convicts had by then come to hold the older Barb in contempt. They had little faith in her ability to deliver on her stated intention to help them. And her play-acting at experiencing a day in the life of a convict had accomplished nothing but making their day more miserable than it might otherwise have been, with the promise of worse yet to come.
The only good thing was that Robert had gone off to do something at his master’s bidding, leaving Delia behind to watch over them and periodically administer sips of water to soothe their parched throats. But blazing heat, as they lay naked under the sun, had been theirs to endure, and only as the evening hours approached had they been able to enjoy a whisper of cooling light breeze.
The onset of evening, however, had brought a new discomfort … hunger. For the Pirate Cay staff had set about preparing a fancy poolside feast for the pleasure of the billionaire and his entourage. And it wasn’t long before the tantalizing aroma of a pig roasting on a spit had wafted over in their direction.
“My God … I’m starved. That smells so good,” gasped the older Barb, able to no longer hold her silence.
“Well, forget it!” snapped the younger Barb. “We aren’t likely to get anything from them tonight but a thorough whipping, no thanks to you.”
“Okay, maybe I made a mistake. You and Kelly really don’t need me. Uh … hey Delia … perhaps you could inform the boss that I’ve changed my mind and no longer am interested in finding out what it’s like to be a convict?”
“Sorry, Ambassador. I was told by the boss to expect that from you and instructed to remind you that here on Pirate Cay a deal is a deal. He granted your wish. You need to go through with it.”
“Oh shit!”
*********
A couple of hours later, the billionaire and his guests, along with Robert, Delia and Tara were gathered poolside to be served a traditional Caribbean repast … spit-roasted pig, glazed with a tropical fruit blend and seasoned with aromatic spices … and served with heaping side dishes of whipped sweet potatoes, roasted plums, and baked cakes of buttered cornmeal cou-cou. All washed down with a selection of the very finest of local wines, and followed with spiced Caribbean rum cake for dessert.
Dinner talk ranged widely, but as the meal wore on, more and more attention was devoted to anticipating the evening’s entertainment … which everyone knew to be a triple whipping, featuring the two convicts and Ambassador Barb bound naked to the whipping post that stood near the pool. But particularly prominent in the discussion was speculation surrounding the fact that the whipping post had been mysteriously shrouded under a gray tarp.
“Why the mysterious tarp?” queried Big Fred as he looped his arm around Delia, who happened to be sitting next to him, to pull her closer.
“I think it’s a surprise, the boss and Robert cooked up this afternoon.” she replied, giggling as the PM slid his hand up under her tee to cup and squeeze a breast.
“I noticed Robert earlier working on something or other out in the tool shed,” chimed in Tara, as she pushed away the remnants of her dessert and took a dainty sip from the glass of juice the boss insisted she drink in lieu of wine.
“Perhaps Robert was just refurbishing that old whipping post?” offered the Dean. “I noticed yesterday that it was looking quite weathered and a bit cracked and splintery in places. There’s always a need for things to be well-maintained, you know … just as there is with a well-oiled, smoothly running college.”
“Or a good political fundraising operation,” added the Senator, warming to a subject near and dear to his big Texan heart.
“Or a sprawling financial empire … but sorry, I have to say that you’re all wrong,” laughed the billionaire. “I can promise, though, that you’ll see what’s under that tarp soon enough … soon as the staff clear the dishes away and we are ready for the evening’s special entertainment event.”
**********
A half hour later they were all seated in a semi-circle around the mysteriously shrouded whipping post. It was dusk. And the glow of the mini-LED lights strung decoratively overhead, all around the pool area, gave the whole scene a rather festive look.
“Well, this is it,” announced the billionaire. “The moment we’ve all been anticipating is here. Robert! Would you be so kind at this time as to go down towards the beach and bring those convicts up here poolside?”
“Sure, boss, with pleasure.”
“Mo and Fred! Would you mind giving Robert a hand with that?”
“Not at all,” they chorused.
Everyone else settled back to wait. And it wasn’t too long before Robert, Mo and Fred reappeared, driving the three naked ‘convicts’ before them like a herd of cattle.
“Yi-haw … get along little slutties!” the Texas Senator could be heard bellowing enthusiastically, followed by a high-pitched buzz and an anguished yelp from Kelly.
“What was that?” gasped Tara.
“One of Robert’s new toys,” grinned the boss with a sly wink. “The Senator gifted him a set of three shiny-new Texas cattle prods as a reward for pulling off the Ambassador’s rescue. That’s why I sent the three of them down there to fetch the convicts.”
Three more buzzes and a chorus of squeals and shrieks split the night air as the convict girls came on … running awkwardly, with fettered ankles and hands clasped behind their heads POW-style … the cattle-prod-wielding men close behind.
Moments later the girls had been corralled together by the shrouded whipping post … panting heavily, and looking about apprehensively.
Stepping away from the others, Barb attempted to make a last ditch plea directly to the boss, saying, “Look! I’ve changed my mind. I’m no longer interested in finding out what it’s like to be a convict condemned to hard labor on Pirate Cay. I’ve had enough of it. I’ve learned it’s no fun. Now, let me go, please.”
“Sorry, Ambassador. I can’t do that. Delia was instructed to tell you no already, and I’m sure she did. But I’ll go over it again anyway. I’m a very successful business man. That means that in my world a deal is a deal … that is, unless you’ve got a lawyer clever enough to get you out of it, which you, my dear, do not. So kindly step back now and take your place with the others … or I’ll order Robert to apply his cattle prod to something other than your tight little ass!”
Barb frowned, hesitated, looked like she was going to protest, but then thought better of it and sullenly stepped back.
“Nice play, Shakespeare,” jeered the younger Barb, pleased to see that her older namesake was not about to get away with anything.
Barb stuck out her tongue.
“Alright, enough you two! We’ll have no more discussion. All is in readiness,” pronounced the boss. “Robert, please have the honor of unveiling the post.”
Reaching up to grab the tarp near the top, Robert removed it with a flourish … a flourish immediately met by a collective gasp, followed by a spontaneous round of applause. For, as some had guessed, the post had indeed been refurbished with a fresh and glossy coat of white paint, and it now featured three, rather than two, sets of shiny new wrist cuffs dangling from short lengths of chain secured to the top of the post.
But what caught everyone’s eye and astonished approval were the three large horn-shaped, bulbously-headed, stiff rubber dildos … each of them glistening under the LED lighting with a generous coating of lubricant gel, and each affixed firmly at their base, at an appropriately useful height, to the main body of the post.
“Yi-haw!” exclaimed the Senator. “Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! Not only are we a goin’ to whip the freakin’ hides off these little slutties, but at the same time we’re a goin’ to whip them to orgasm!”
To which the older and younger Barb both cried in unison, “Oh shit!”
Kelly just shook her head in disbelief.
And so it all began in earnest. Eager hands rushed the three women to the post, stretching their arms overhead and locking their wrists in waiting cuffs.
Forced to face the post, they found themselves encircling it, crammed close together, shoulders and flanks touching, toes scrabbling for purchase on the ground, dildos butting uncomfortably against their lower abdomens.
“You know,” remarked Fred to the boss as an aside when they had stepped back to admire their handiwork, “the more I look at and compare the tight little asses on the two Barbs, the more I see a definite resemblance.”
He received a knowing grin and a wink in reply.
“Alright, let’s get those pussies fixed over those eagerly awaiting dildos!” ordered the boss.
Barb flinched as she felt Fred’s huge hands grip her tightly at the hips and lift her up and away from the post. She immediately began, knowing full well what was in the offing, to kick and squirm wildly, screaming “Nooooo!” at the top of her lungs. But another pair of hands … she thought Robert’s … had her by the ankles, maneuvering her in concert with Fred until she was positioned such that the dildo pressed up against her pussy, its well-lubricated head already beginning to work its way into her slit.
From there it was all downhill. A sharp downward thrust on her hips by Fred and it was quickly over. She’d been dildo impaled!
And in like manner, so had Kelly and the younger Barb.
“Alright,” breathed the boss, a bit winded by the struggle he had encountered, despite the Dean’s assistance, in getting a wildly bucking and kicking Kelly in place on her dildo.
None of the three convicts had accepted their fate willingly. The Senator and Delia were in fact still battling a fiercely resistant younger Barb. But with Robert coming to their assistance, she too succumbed to the inevitable, turning her anger and frustration on her older namesake, shouting, “Now see what you’ve gotten us into!”
Barb was about to reply, but Fred clamped a stifling hand over her mouth.
“Okay, we’re ready for the whipping now!” announced the boss. “I want three whippers to go at them simultaneously, starting with Fred, Mo and Harley. Ten strokes each, gentlemen. And don’t hold back. Give ‘em hell! And then, while you take a break, Robert, Delia and I will administer the next ten. The object, remember, is to whip them to orgasm. Place your strokes so as to get them to both rub up against one another and especially to writhe about on those dildos. The idea is to heighten both their pain and their pleasure. We keep at it, round after round, until they all orgasm!”
“I have dibs on our little socialist Yankee Ambassador,” announced Mo.
“And I have Kelly, our discredited college recruiter,” crowed the Dean.
“And I the other Barb,” said Fred, eying her tight bottom with obvious relish.
“Shit! Here it comes,” groaned the younger Barb, casting an apprehensive glance over her left shoulder.
A moment later, all were slammed against the post and against one another by the force of lash strokes that broke across their bare backs. The post shuddered under the collective impact. Then a series of groans, cries, shrieks and grunts filled the air as coordinated volleys followed, working systematically over the girls’ backsides, ranging from shoulders down to buttocks and back again, but particularly on their lower backs and bottoms.
(@settantuno)Then a brief pause ensued as the second team took over.
Kelly, through clenched teeth, sought to advise the others, “You heard the boss. We know what they want to see. If we want to get out of this hellish farce alive, and sooner than later, we all need to get ourselves off on these fucking dildos, and fast!”
The whipping resumed … more shrieks, screams and curses, blended with the crack and zing of leather flying through the air and the smack of impact on bare flesh again filled the night air. But now, in addition to being slammed against the post and one another, each of the girls was working hard, each in her own way, to get herself off on her dildo.
Tara, seated on a nearby chair, was busy with the task delegated to her … capturing the whole lurid scene with a handheld video cam.
Twenty lashes had soon been administered, and while the whipping teams switched, Kelly gasped, “I’m almost there. Anyone else? If not, hurry, damn it!”
But before the third round could begin, Fred insisted on making the rounds, squatting behind each of the victims and probing with a finger between their thighs to gauge progress.
“Kelly’s definitely ahead,” he announced, “she’s really wet, and I judge the younger Barb to be not far behind. Ambassador Barb, though, still has some work to do!”
“Shit!” hissed the younger Barb. “What the fuck? Are you trying to get us all killed? Hurry up and get one off, will ya!”
Barb was about to reply, but a lash ripping across and digging deep into her ass flesh forced an anguished scream instead.
Halfway through the third set of ten, the Dean was the first to announce success as his victim, Kelly, went suddenly rigid and emitted a long throaty howl. Two lashes later the younger Barb followed suit. And finally, but not until the thirtieth stroke had been administered, Ambassador Barb lost it, jumping about and shaking in the throes of a giant orgasm that could be seen coursing in waves through her battered body.
(@Fossy)At the sight of it, everyone did celebratory high fives … with the Senator, who had responsibility for whipping the ambassador on that round, accepting a cascade of congratulatory slaps on the back.
“Did you get it all on video, Tara?” queried the boss.
She nodded affirmatively.
Great! Well done everyone! Show’s over. Robert and Delia, kindly hose down our three friends. Get the convicts bedded down for the night, and Ambassador Moore over to the infirmary. Everyone else … back to the house for nightcaps and a screening of Tara’s video.”
Last edited:
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
A clever lawyer needed? Call Tree!
Soon they will cry in unison : "Yikes!"
It will soon get hard to distinguish them from each other!
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M
montycrusto
Guest
Perhaps Barb enjoys the whip...
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Leave out 'Perhaps'!
windar
Teller of Tales
I didn't think they made wine in the Caribbean, so I thought that Barb had meant to spell it "whine", something she is also very familiar with.
But then I found this https://islandoriginsmag.com/taste-native-caribbean-wine/
So once again CF is an educational site!! All contributions tax deductible!!!
twonines
LIMERICUS
I thought you knew, all Barb`s whines are vintage!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Very honest and sincere folk those Pirate Clay types ... commendable!
Damn! That whipping post must be a sight to behold ...
... Old Barb, post throes of a giant orgasm ... beaten, degraded and exhausted ...
twonines
LIMERICUS
I must be old fashioned, I prefer "Mature Barb" personally. Strange, as I would whip her tight little at the drop of a hat. (or the drop of her kinis)
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
No Quotes. No long comments. Just a tip of my MAGA hat and a round of applause for a truly superb episode!
Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
Wow @Barbaria1 what a superb chapter!
windar
Teller of Tales
33.
A few days later
It was quiet on Pirate Cay. The Senator and the Dean had returned home to Washington and Pitcher, respectively. Big Fred, in view of embarrassing slip up that had resulted in the rebels having briefly taken the Ambassador hostage, had decided, for the moment at least, to spend a bit more time on the main island governing and a bit less on Pirate Cay satisfying his lusts
The boss had spent the last few days focusing on some business transactions. In that brief span, he’d made enough to cover the costs of the rescue operation undertaken by Robert and his colleagues several times over. Life was good.
He picked up the phone. “Doc, how’s the patient doing?”
The doctor assured him that the Ambassador was recovering well under her care. He smiled, imagining the two of them naked, the doctor’s legs in the air, Barb’s tongue planted tightly on her clitoris. He’d watch the video later, maybe have Kelly or young Barb blow him as he enjoyed the spectacle.
“That’s good,” he said. “Would you bring her to my office in a bit, please?”
“Should I have her get dressed?” the doctor asked. He laughed at the question.
“Yes. This is business,” he replied.
Then he called Tara. “I want you to get young Barb, give her a shower and find some clothes for her. Nothing fancy, but something decent. When she’s presentable, bring her to my office. You can skip the leashed dog act. Just walk with her over here, OK?”
About ten minutes later, there was a knock. He got up and opened the door. The doctor stood there dressed in her white lab coat, seemingly with nothing under it. Next to her stood the Ambassador, dressed in a Minnesota Gophers T shirt, shorts and flip-flops
He smiled warmly. “Come in Ambassador,” he said, ushering her inside.
Turning to the doctor, he added. “I trust Ambassador Moore was properly grateful for the excellent care you provided.”
The doctor winked. “Yes, she was,” she said, turning to leave. He would definitely watch that video as soon as he had a few spare moments.
He closed the door. “Have a seat, Barb,” he suggested, indicating one of the chairs facing his desk.
“I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind,” she replied.
He smiled. “Yes, I suppose you would,” he replied. “Would you like something to drink? A nice chilled Reisling? Some champagne?” he asked.
She shook her head. “That might be a wise choice,” he said. “Perhaps an iced tea? Nothing added to it, I promise. This is business,” he said.
“That would be nice,” Barb said.
He went to adjoining kitchenette and returned with two glasses of iced tea, handing one to her and perching himself on the edge of his desk so that they could be more or less equal.
“Everyone has agreed that you came through your initiation swimmingly. You will make a fine addition to the crew here at Pirate Cay.”
Barb looked at him. “That’s nice, but I have no intention of being ‘an addition to your crew’ as you put it. I’ve experienced it, I’m not sorry that I did, but it’s time to get on with my life. I am the US Ambassador and I haven’t performed a single official duty in the time I’ve been here. I need to go back to the main island and get busy at the Embassy. The PRFF terrorists are all dead, so I presume I can be safe there now.”
“That’s true, Barb. But let’s be honest, there isn’t much for an Ambassador to Providencia to do. Fred’s not here, so we can be honest and admit that it’s a backwater. Do you want to spend the next four years re-uniting American tourists with their lost luggage?”
“It beats getting whipped and caned and digging holes to fill other holes,” she replied.
He smiled. “Barb, I think, despite your complaints, that you found your ordeal a stimulating experience. Be honest with yourself.”
She blushed. “OK, there were parts that were, I guess stimulating is a reasonable description. But, I hope I would be invited back for a visit now and then. Look, POTUS and Leo McIntyre-he’s the Chief of Staff- put their trust in me and I feel I shouldn’t let them down.”
“Barb, they have bigger fish to fry as you say in the Midwest. They can find another political supporter to reward with some sun and fun very easily. What if I were to offer you something that will be a much better use of your diplomatic skills?”
“I don’t think I’d be interested,” she said.
“Hear me out,” he replied.
She sighed. “Fine,” she said.
“We have a big hole here at Pirate Cay. With Kelly’s betrayal, we lost our recruiter. My guests and I thrive on new blood, innocent young college girls lured down here to be debauched. And I think you would be just the woman to convince them to put their silly concerns aside and give it a whirl.”
“You want me to visit colleges and procure students for you to whip and cane and fuck? Is that it?”
“I prefer to say ’Offer them a real opportunity to make excellent money and learn all about the business world.’”
Barb shook her head.
“How much does that Ambassador’s job pay?” he asked.
She named a number. “I’ll double it to start. With bonuses based on performance. And you will accompany them here and get to watch and participate in their education.”
She shook her head.
He turned and reached onto his desk and picked up a folder. “You need to read this,” he said. “It’s from a very highly recommended private investigator in Minneapolis. But you had best sit down.”
“Must I?” she asked.
“I insist,” he replied. He watched as she gingerly lowered herself into the chair, wincing as her tender bottom flesh made contact with the seat.
He handed her the folder, watching as she began reading, her mouth open in shock. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed. “Barb is…”
“Your cousin,” he said. “Which explains the physical resemblance and the same stubbornness and lack of judgement and, shall we say, proclivities.” Barb glared at him. “And you didn’t know?”
She shook her head. “My father mentioned having a brother on occasion, but he didn’t want me to contact him, so I never did. I meant to look him and his family up at some point, but I got busy with a hundred other things. I had no idea that he had a daughter with the same name as me.”
“Life is strange, isn’t it?” he said.
“And I whipped her,” Barb said, looking stunned.
“Yes, you did,” he replied. “And were whipped with her.” There was a knock at the door.
“Excuse me for a moment, he said,” going to the door and opening it. Standing outside was Tara, accompanied by the younger Barbara Moore, who was, for the first time in months, wearing clothes-in this case a Pitcher College T shirt, shorts and flip-flops.
“Come in, Barb,” he said. She looked afraid to enter. “Don’t be afraid. This is a business meeting. Remember you said you wanted to come here to learn about business. That was a lie, of course, but you’ve paid for that. I won’t lay a finger on you. I promise.”
Timidly, she entered. He closed the door. “Barb,” he said to the Ambassador. “Come over and stand next to your cousin.”
Young Barb stared at him in shock. She looked like she wanted to blurt something out, but had been so cowed by her treatment over the last several months that she didn’t dare. “Go on, Barb,” he said. “You can speak freely here. This is a business meeting.”
“We’re cousins?” she asked.
“Barb, would you give Barb, that folder?” he said.
Ambassador Barb stood, walked over and handed the folder to young Barb, who took it and stared at it blankly. ‘She probably hasn’t read anything in months,’ he thought. “But it’s like riding a bicycle; you never forget how.’
“Go on, read it,” he urged. She opened it and began reading, slowly. “I assure you this is all real. The investigator back in Minneapolis is a solid professional. You two are first cousins.”
“Did your father ever talk about his brother?” Ambassador Barb asked.
“No,” Young Barb replied, shaking her head.
He turned to Ambassador Barb. “So, now that you know, let me expand upon my offer. I’m afraid I can’t let your cousin leave Pirate Cay. That would be too dangerous. But what I can do, if you accept, is to free her from her prisoner status and let her serve the rest of her time here as a companion. She can sleep in the old room she had, eat dinner with us, enjoy the beach and the pool, even take classes on line. No more toting rocks up and down the hill. And she can learn about business; I’ll be happy to teach her.”
“She will be asked to entertain guests from time to time, as all the companions are asked to, but she does that anyway, in much less luxurious circumstances. The more new blood you recruit, the less of a burden will be on her. Especially with Tara and Delia leaving once the baby is born.”
“You’re going to let them off the island?” she asked.
“That was the deal and I keep my deals. They will be well-compensated and are implicated in everything that goes on here by now, so they will have every interest in keeping silent.”
“I see,” Ambassador Barb said. “And if I say no?”
“Then the next 24 and a half years of your cousin’s life will be unrelenting misery.”
“What about Kelly?” Ambassador Barb asked.
“That traitorous bitch deserves no sympathy,” he said, looking angry for the first time. “She isn’t your cousin, so what do you care? She can keep lugging rocks.”
“And what about my husband?”
“Roger? It doesn’t seem like you two have much of a marriage. He got to talking with Leo McIntyre and has filed for divorce. “
“I see,” Ambassador Barb said.
“So, the fate of your cousin is in your hands.”
“This is all a bit much to absorb,” the Ambassador said.
“I understand that. Think it over; you can give me your answer in the morning.”
Suddenly, young Barb got down on her knees-a position that had become second nature to her-in front of her cousin. “Please, Barb,” she begged. “You can’t leave me to live like an animal for the next 24 years. We’re family. You have to help me!”
“You see?” he said. “It’s not just about you.”
“I’ll think about it,” Ambassador Barb said.
“Good. I hope you make the right choice,” he said. “Now before you go, I want a picture of the two of you together. Come on,” he urged.
Young Barb stood and the two cousins arranged themselves next to each other. “Closer,” he said. They moved closer. “Put your arms around each other.” They did as he asked. “Now smile,” he said, raising his phone.
A few days later
It was quiet on Pirate Cay. The Senator and the Dean had returned home to Washington and Pitcher, respectively. Big Fred, in view of embarrassing slip up that had resulted in the rebels having briefly taken the Ambassador hostage, had decided, for the moment at least, to spend a bit more time on the main island governing and a bit less on Pirate Cay satisfying his lusts
The boss had spent the last few days focusing on some business transactions. In that brief span, he’d made enough to cover the costs of the rescue operation undertaken by Robert and his colleagues several times over. Life was good.
He picked up the phone. “Doc, how’s the patient doing?”
The doctor assured him that the Ambassador was recovering well under her care. He smiled, imagining the two of them naked, the doctor’s legs in the air, Barb’s tongue planted tightly on her clitoris. He’d watch the video later, maybe have Kelly or young Barb blow him as he enjoyed the spectacle.
“That’s good,” he said. “Would you bring her to my office in a bit, please?”
“Should I have her get dressed?” the doctor asked. He laughed at the question.
“Yes. This is business,” he replied.
Then he called Tara. “I want you to get young Barb, give her a shower and find some clothes for her. Nothing fancy, but something decent. When she’s presentable, bring her to my office. You can skip the leashed dog act. Just walk with her over here, OK?”
About ten minutes later, there was a knock. He got up and opened the door. The doctor stood there dressed in her white lab coat, seemingly with nothing under it. Next to her stood the Ambassador, dressed in a Minnesota Gophers T shirt, shorts and flip-flops
He smiled warmly. “Come in Ambassador,” he said, ushering her inside.
Turning to the doctor, he added. “I trust Ambassador Moore was properly grateful for the excellent care you provided.”
The doctor winked. “Yes, she was,” she said, turning to leave. He would definitely watch that video as soon as he had a few spare moments.
He closed the door. “Have a seat, Barb,” he suggested, indicating one of the chairs facing his desk.
“I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind,” she replied.
He smiled. “Yes, I suppose you would,” he replied. “Would you like something to drink? A nice chilled Reisling? Some champagne?” he asked.
She shook her head. “That might be a wise choice,” he said. “Perhaps an iced tea? Nothing added to it, I promise. This is business,” he said.
“That would be nice,” Barb said.
He went to adjoining kitchenette and returned with two glasses of iced tea, handing one to her and perching himself on the edge of his desk so that they could be more or less equal.
“Everyone has agreed that you came through your initiation swimmingly. You will make a fine addition to the crew here at Pirate Cay.”
Barb looked at him. “That’s nice, but I have no intention of being ‘an addition to your crew’ as you put it. I’ve experienced it, I’m not sorry that I did, but it’s time to get on with my life. I am the US Ambassador and I haven’t performed a single official duty in the time I’ve been here. I need to go back to the main island and get busy at the Embassy. The PRFF terrorists are all dead, so I presume I can be safe there now.”
“That’s true, Barb. But let’s be honest, there isn’t much for an Ambassador to Providencia to do. Fred’s not here, so we can be honest and admit that it’s a backwater. Do you want to spend the next four years re-uniting American tourists with their lost luggage?”
“It beats getting whipped and caned and digging holes to fill other holes,” she replied.
He smiled. “Barb, I think, despite your complaints, that you found your ordeal a stimulating experience. Be honest with yourself.”
She blushed. “OK, there were parts that were, I guess stimulating is a reasonable description. But, I hope I would be invited back for a visit now and then. Look, POTUS and Leo McIntyre-he’s the Chief of Staff- put their trust in me and I feel I shouldn’t let them down.”
“Barb, they have bigger fish to fry as you say in the Midwest. They can find another political supporter to reward with some sun and fun very easily. What if I were to offer you something that will be a much better use of your diplomatic skills?”
“I don’t think I’d be interested,” she said.
“Hear me out,” he replied.
She sighed. “Fine,” she said.
“We have a big hole here at Pirate Cay. With Kelly’s betrayal, we lost our recruiter. My guests and I thrive on new blood, innocent young college girls lured down here to be debauched. And I think you would be just the woman to convince them to put their silly concerns aside and give it a whirl.”
“You want me to visit colleges and procure students for you to whip and cane and fuck? Is that it?”
“I prefer to say ’Offer them a real opportunity to make excellent money and learn all about the business world.’”
Barb shook her head.
“How much does that Ambassador’s job pay?” he asked.
She named a number. “I’ll double it to start. With bonuses based on performance. And you will accompany them here and get to watch and participate in their education.”
She shook her head.
He turned and reached onto his desk and picked up a folder. “You need to read this,” he said. “It’s from a very highly recommended private investigator in Minneapolis. But you had best sit down.”
“Must I?” she asked.
“I insist,” he replied. He watched as she gingerly lowered herself into the chair, wincing as her tender bottom flesh made contact with the seat.
He handed her the folder, watching as she began reading, her mouth open in shock. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed. “Barb is…”
“Your cousin,” he said. “Which explains the physical resemblance and the same stubbornness and lack of judgement and, shall we say, proclivities.” Barb glared at him. “And you didn’t know?”
She shook her head. “My father mentioned having a brother on occasion, but he didn’t want me to contact him, so I never did. I meant to look him and his family up at some point, but I got busy with a hundred other things. I had no idea that he had a daughter with the same name as me.”
“Life is strange, isn’t it?” he said.
“And I whipped her,” Barb said, looking stunned.
“Yes, you did,” he replied. “And were whipped with her.” There was a knock at the door.
“Excuse me for a moment, he said,” going to the door and opening it. Standing outside was Tara, accompanied by the younger Barbara Moore, who was, for the first time in months, wearing clothes-in this case a Pitcher College T shirt, shorts and flip-flops.
“Come in, Barb,” he said. She looked afraid to enter. “Don’t be afraid. This is a business meeting. Remember you said you wanted to come here to learn about business. That was a lie, of course, but you’ve paid for that. I won’t lay a finger on you. I promise.”
Timidly, she entered. He closed the door. “Barb,” he said to the Ambassador. “Come over and stand next to your cousin.”
Young Barb stared at him in shock. She looked like she wanted to blurt something out, but had been so cowed by her treatment over the last several months that she didn’t dare. “Go on, Barb,” he said. “You can speak freely here. This is a business meeting.”
“We’re cousins?” she asked.
“Barb, would you give Barb, that folder?” he said.
Ambassador Barb stood, walked over and handed the folder to young Barb, who took it and stared at it blankly. ‘She probably hasn’t read anything in months,’ he thought. “But it’s like riding a bicycle; you never forget how.’
“Go on, read it,” he urged. She opened it and began reading, slowly. “I assure you this is all real. The investigator back in Minneapolis is a solid professional. You two are first cousins.”
“Did your father ever talk about his brother?” Ambassador Barb asked.
“No,” Young Barb replied, shaking her head.
He turned to Ambassador Barb. “So, now that you know, let me expand upon my offer. I’m afraid I can’t let your cousin leave Pirate Cay. That would be too dangerous. But what I can do, if you accept, is to free her from her prisoner status and let her serve the rest of her time here as a companion. She can sleep in the old room she had, eat dinner with us, enjoy the beach and the pool, even take classes on line. No more toting rocks up and down the hill. And she can learn about business; I’ll be happy to teach her.”
“She will be asked to entertain guests from time to time, as all the companions are asked to, but she does that anyway, in much less luxurious circumstances. The more new blood you recruit, the less of a burden will be on her. Especially with Tara and Delia leaving once the baby is born.”
“You’re going to let them off the island?” she asked.
“That was the deal and I keep my deals. They will be well-compensated and are implicated in everything that goes on here by now, so they will have every interest in keeping silent.”
“I see,” Ambassador Barb said. “And if I say no?”
“Then the next 24 and a half years of your cousin’s life will be unrelenting misery.”
“What about Kelly?” Ambassador Barb asked.
“That traitorous bitch deserves no sympathy,” he said, looking angry for the first time. “She isn’t your cousin, so what do you care? She can keep lugging rocks.”
“And what about my husband?”
“Roger? It doesn’t seem like you two have much of a marriage. He got to talking with Leo McIntyre and has filed for divorce. “
“I see,” Ambassador Barb said.
“So, the fate of your cousin is in your hands.”
“This is all a bit much to absorb,” the Ambassador said.
“I understand that. Think it over; you can give me your answer in the morning.”
Suddenly, young Barb got down on her knees-a position that had become second nature to her-in front of her cousin. “Please, Barb,” she begged. “You can’t leave me to live like an animal for the next 24 years. We’re family. You have to help me!”
“You see?” he said. “It’s not just about you.”
“I’ll think about it,” Ambassador Barb said.
“Good. I hope you make the right choice,” he said. “Now before you go, I want a picture of the two of you together. Come on,” he urged.
Young Barb stood and the two cousins arranged themselves next to each other. “Closer,” he said. They moved closer. “Put your arms around each other.” They did as he asked. “Now smile,” he said, raising his phone.
M
montycrusto
Guest
This is like The Prince And The Pauper.. I’m half expecting some switcheroo shenanigans. Excellent chapter. I imagine Ambassador Barb is not in a position to say no to anything at this point, given the amount of compromising material the Boss has on her. Plus, given what she knows about them, they must be very keen to make absolutely sure she will never turn whistleblower. I’m frankly not convinced that her concern for her cousin’s welfare is going to be enough!
twonines
LIMERICUS
An excellent chapter, Windar, again bringing all the plot threads together nicely.
windar
Teller of Tales
The boss has a way of getting what he wantsThis is like The Prince And The Pauper.. I’m half expecting some switcheroo shenanigans. Excellent chapter. I imagine Ambassador Barb is not in a position to say no to anything at this point, given the amount of compromising material the Boss has on her. Plus, given what she knows about them, they must be very keen to make absolutely sure she will never turn whistleblower. I’m frankly not convinced that her concern for her cousin’s welfare is going to be enough!
