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Limericks

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The townsfolk of both the Twin Cities
Turned up to watch Barbara's titties
Suffer under the lash,
For causing the crash
of cruxforums and other cala-mitties
 
As each stroke of the cane descended,
The matron was extremely offended.
By the look on Barb`s face,
She was into sub-space,
Not the effect that was really intended.
 
The matron selected a heavier cane,
One capable of inflicting more pain.
This one was good,
With each stroke she drew blood,
And soon had Barb howling again.
 
To pain, is Barb still inured?
Or has her penchant been cured?
It may be so,
But we`ll never know,
Until to the post she`s next secured.
 
This tale has now reached it`s ending,
And a very clear message it`s sending.
You can be sure,
We love Barbara Moore,
Especially, naked and bending!
 
From far beyond the walls of the fort
The soldiers hear a giggle snort
How can any mortal laugh
When nailed to a crux staff
That Barb is certainly a strange sort
 
Barbaria1 said:
From far beyond the walls of the fort
The soldiers hear a giggle snort
How can any mortal laugh
When nailed to a crux staff
That Barb is certainly a strange sort
Click to expand...
Barb gave a contemptuous snort,
When breaking the law, she was caught.
Her rivals all giggle,
When they watch her tits jiggle,
As she`s flogged, naked, all round the fort.
 
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From Barb, they`d forced a confession,
In punishment, they made no concession.
Forcibly stripped,
Round the fort, she was whipped,
Which for her, made it a most painful procession.
 
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Their methods seem to be succeeding,
Barb`s back is left raw and bleeding.
But instead of being jailed,
To a cross she is nailed.
Bringing a very cruel end to the proceeding.
 
Twelve strokes with a cruel rattan cane,
Set Barb`s endorphins coursing again.
Facing her worst fears,
Tasting wet, salty tears,
Produce a heady mix of pleasure and pain.
 
When from Blighty, Bounty set sail,
They thought the crew was all male.
They were in for a shock,
There was one with no cock,
But that`s a very long tale.

While Christian was dallying ashore,
He took up with Barbara Moore.
They were in accord,
He`d smuggle her aboard,
Nobody`d notice, for sure.

They hit on a spiffing ploy,
They`d disguise Barb as a boy.
In male garb she was clad,
To pass as a lad,
Good luck with that, ship ahoy.

As cabin boy, Barb had to serve,
The captain was a bit of a perve.
He pinched her bum,
When she served his rum,
And Barb said "You`ve got a nerve."

For a dozen with the the rope`s end,
Over a cannon poor Barb must bend..
When the bosun took down her kecks,
It revealed her true sex,
And the subterfuge came to an end.
 
Signing on under a false pretence,
For that there is no defence.
Female or male,
It`s beyond the pale.
And definitely a flogging offence.

I`ve never seen a woman suffer the cat,
But we`re about to remedy that.
Those tumescent bubbies
And tight little chubbies
Will make a perfect target at that.

To a grating poor Barb was horsed,
Her flogging continued unpaused.
Fletcher wasn`t chasing wahines,
But getting into Barb`s kinis,
And that`s how the Mutiny was caused
 
The screenplay for “Braveheart Part Two”
Is a secret but here’s a small clue:
There’s Barb, as Scots Queenie,
In a tartan bikini,
With her face and tight-little dyed blue.
 
Barb’s talents do not go to waste:
Her sword turns the English to paste.
She jiggles her tits
As she chops them to bits;
It’s all in the very best taste!
 
Then tragedy strikes, I’m afraid..
By her own side, BraveBarb is betrayed,
Though as Queen she had reigned,
She’s stripped naked and chained,
In a gibbet-cage lewdly displayed.
 
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