windar
Teller of Tales
It's a she said, she said..
You're welcome to get back on the perch and give your side of the story...
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Spring Break Slaves 2: Reporting from Pirate Cay
- Thread starter windar
- Start date
You're welcome to get back on the perch and give your side of the story...
CHAPTER THIRTY
Barb lay naked and panting on the cold hard Italian tile flooring. Directly over her, Kelly screamed and squalled on the parrot’s perch as she suffered at the hands of the boss through a prolonged ‘level 7’ electrical shocking, administered by way of an alligator clip attached to her clitoris and a dildo shoved up her rectum.
Her mind awhirl, Barb struggled valiantly to focus. There was much to feel anguished and unnerved about. But what loomed large at that moment was Kelly’s unexpected answer, delivered under mounting levels of electric shock torture, to the boss’s repeated question: “what happened to Ericsson?”
Kelly had lied!
Barb couldn’t believe her ears when she heard Kelly blurt out, between anguished moans and desperate gasps for air, “Barb hit him ... on the head with a skillet. He was dead. We threw him ... overboard.”
That wasn’t at all accurate!
It had been Kelly, not Barb, who had killed Ericsson!
Why had Kelly lied? Was she just confused? Stressed out? Barb knew from her own interrogation session on that same parrot’s perch how excruciatingly painful and stressful the electrical shocking could be. It’s difficult to think straight with electric current raging through one’s private parts. Kelly may just not have been thinking straight.
Or ... was Kelly purposely trying to shift blame onto Barb in order ... somehow ... to save herself?
If so, Barb felt terribly betrayed. She had been guarded towards this older woman, who had lied to her from the very beginning. Kelly had first lied to her over dinner back at Pitcher College. There she had laid out for Barb the terms of employment as a ‘Companion’ on Pirate Cay knowing full well that that what she was saying was totally deceptive. And in the brief time Barb had known her on the island, there had been times when she had seemed on Barb’s side and other times when she had seemed indifferent and certainly less than truthful.
Yet, over time Barb had come to believe that she and Kelly had, by circumstance, if for no other reason, found common ground and purpose, not to mention mutual pleasure ... pleasure of an erotic kind that Barb had never contemplated personally possible before Kelly had rather aggressively introduced her to it in the warm Caribbean waters fronting the billionaire’s estate. It’s not that Barb was unaware of such pleasures. She had often witnessed girls doing it in the dorms at Pitcher, and had even been approached by other girls in the dorm. She had consistently shunned such advances. But Kelly had awakened her to it in a way that had been difficult to resist. She and Kelly had bonded, or so Barb had thought.
That Kelly could so easily betray her now was deeply unsettling.
But it wasn’t just Kelly’s betrayal that had Barb’s mind all awhirl. It was also the startling revelations ... the ‘uncomfortable truths’ ... as people are fond of saying ... that had come to light when she had been placed on the parrot’s perch and tortured so mercilessly.
First and foremost was the revelation that Dean Carter was in on it from the very beginning. This despicable pig of a man, entrusted by the Pitcher College Board of Regents to look after the well-being of the College’s student body, was nothing more than a depraved sicko, engaged in cunningly spiriting innocent young female students into sexual slavery on a distant and obscure Caribbean island!
And there he was, wearing a silly get-up that suggested he was some kind of banana republic torturer called Colonel Martinez, inviting the boss to apply electrical shocks to Barb’s privates as she hung naked and helpless before him.
Once he had been made fully aware that Barb would never leave Pirate Cay, or even be allowed to live after the aborted escape attempt, the Dean had been encouraged by the boss to be so bold as to reveal his identity to her. And then, at the conclusion of her interrogation under torture, after stating that he had unfinished business with her, he had brazenly gone about sexually assaulting her, fucking her with wild abandon. She could still feel his filthy load of spunk oozing out from within her, and was revolted by the thought of it.
But that was only part of it, for she had also learned, much to her chagrin, that Dean Carter had phoned the boss from his Pitcher College office to alert him to her true purpose in answering that advertisement. Which meant that the boss had known, from before she even set foot on his island, exactly what she had been up to!
Indeed, he’d been playing her along from the very beginning. And he’d done so without cluing Kelly in on it, which Barb realized was probably as much a startling revelation to Kelly as it was to herself. When did Kelly know? Or didn’t she? In Barb’s mind the answer to that only further complicated things between her and Kelly.
“Information is power,” the boss had pointedly proclaimed.
But that’s not all. Barb had also learned that Delia and Tara were, in fact, perfectly happy, or so it seemed, with their situation. Which meant that Barb’s whole purpose in coming to Pirate Cay had been a fool’s errand. As it turned out, she wasn’t saving anyone.
But, on the other hand, Barb had succeeded in uncovering shady doings of a highly criminal nature. These men ... the boss, the Prime Minister, and a U.S. Senator, no less, were deeply involved in what could only be described as sex trafficking. Exposing them would be an investigative journalism coup of the highest order if only she could manage to get the word out.
Unfortunately, as she was soon reminded, the likelihood of doing that seemed remote at best. For just then, Kelly launched into a fresh bout of shrill screams and wild spasms. The bastards had raised her shocking to ‘level 8’, two levels shy of what Barb understood to be the maximum of ten. Barb had herself briefly experienced ‘level 10’ when the Senator had gone ape shit and seized the controls. And it had nearly killed her!
Apparently they were giving Kelly a taste of ‘level 8’ just for the hell of it, and we’re sadistically letting her flail about for quite a while before finally switching the current off.
From where Barb lay directly beneath Kelly, she was able to look straight up at Kelly’s face, flushed and framed against the glare of overhead ceiling lights in a tangle of sodden hair. Barb watched as Kelly’s eyelids fluttered ... and as she opened her mouth as if to say something. But all that emerged was a large glob of drool that fell unerringly from her open mouth to Barb’s upturned face, forcing Barb to close her eyes and turn her head away.
By the time she had reopened her eyes and looked upwards again, she found herself looking not at Kelly’s face but up the doc’s legs. Her first thought was that the woman was wearing nothing under her white lab coat. The second was that Kelly might be in deep trouble as the doc appeared to be busy checking Kelly’s pulse and breathing. But after a moment or two, she reported that everything seemed okay. The administration of any further shocks, though, was firmly discouraged.
“Okay, now what do we do with these two sluts?” asked the Senator, who had visibly calmed from his earlier fit of rage over the possibility that Barb might reveal his involvement on Pirate Cay, which could potentially be to the detriment of his political career. “My mind hasn’t changed. I say we do away permanently with them both, and the sooner the better!”
“Let’s not be hasty,” cautioned the billionaire. “Their complete disappearance without explanation could raise eyebrows, especially in the case of Barb ... who is a registered student back at Pitcher.”
“But, what about Delia and Tara?” replied the Senator, waving an arm in exasperation. “Aren’t they on the registrar’s rolls as Pitcher students as well?”
“Yes, that’s true. But since Delia and Tara would be alive rather than dead, we could produce them should any questions ever arise, and they would attest that they are here on the Cay of their own free will. Isn’t that right, girls?”
Delia and Tara, still seated nearby on chairs, nodded affirmatively, although Delia looked faintly uncomfortable at that moment and fidgeted noticeably afterwards.
“So ...” continued the boss. “We need to think this through carefully, and I suggest that we adjourn ... that is the Dean, the Senator, and I ... to my office, where we can put in a call to the Prime Minister so as to include him in our deliberations. Whatever we decide to do with Barb and Kelly, especially if it involves ... uh ... ‘disposing of them permanently’ ... should be done with his approval as he is the ultimate authority here in Providencia. Remember, with Ericsson’s death, we have a potential murder case investigation and all the attention that might surround it to deal with here.”
“Agreed!” snorted the Senator, releasing Delia’s breast, which he had been absentmindedly fondling, and rising from his chair. “I’ll go along with any solution we come up with, so long as Barb is never able to report what she knows to the outside world.”
“Right! Come with me then gentlemen. And, Robert! Get Kelly off the parrot’s perch, and suspend her and Barb from the ceiling by their ankles, pressed against and facing one another, and keep them hanging there until we return. You can have Delia and Tara give you a hand with that. It will be a nice way for Barb and Kelly to contemplate their fate together. If either of them kicks up a fuss, though, feel free to use your flogger on them.”
*************
Five minutes later, the three men were ensconced in the billionaire’s office. He sat behind his oversized desk with the Senator and Dean seated across from him. A service staff member served them all drinks while the boss placed a call to the Prime Minister. They waited for Big Fred to come to the phone.
Through the open office door Barb could be heard laying heatedly into a mute Kelly about which of them was primarily responsible for Ericsson’s death, followed shortly thereafter by the sharp crack of Robert’s whip, a yelp of pain, a flood of obscenities, and then another whip crack, a scream, and then yet another.
“Senator, kindly close the door so we don’t have to listen to that ruckus while we’re speaking to the Prime Minister,” said the boss softly.
“Of course, but perhaps we can watch?” suggested the Senator, raising his eyebrows expectantly and pointing to the large video screen mounted on one of the office’s walls.
The boss nodded. Opening a desk drawer he switched on the video screen. And from a panel on his desktop he activated and adjusted the appropriate camera. An image of Barb and Kelly emerged on the screen, hanging face-to-face, upside down, and spinning slowly as Robert applied lash after lash to their bare backs and butts.
Off to one side, and watching the show in silence, stood Delia, Tara and the doc. Delia was biting her lip.
Moments later, the Prime Minister was on the line.
“I know what this must be about,” boomed Big Fred without introduction over the speaker on the boss’s desk. “I just received a report from the Providencia Coast Guard. Seems your two troublemakers, the same two that we sent off to the Penitentiary the other day for an evening with the inmates, have attempted to abscond with your yacht. The Coast Guard intercepted them, according to this report, and returned them to you in shackles, along with the yacht. And there’s also the matter of a possible murder, so I’m told. A night watchman onboard the yacht, known as Ericsson, is reported missing, quite possibly murdered. Is that correct?”
“That’s about the size of it,” replied the boss. “It’s further complicated by the fact that one of them, Barb Moore, came down to the Cay on a self-appointed mission to spy on what we do here with the intention of exposing it to the media. The long and short of it is, the uppity little bitch needs to be silenced ... permanently! But this is your country, Fred, and given that you are implicated as much as the rest of us if what we do here were to ever get out, we thought we ought to seek your advice about what should be done with Barb ... and Kelly too. You should also know that Kelly claims ... we’ve had Harley interrogate her ... that Barb murdered Ericsson and that together they threw him overboard.”
“Hmmmmm ... how interesting ... regards to Harley ... well, I think it would be best for all concerned if we were to keep this strictly legal. In other words, if Barb and Kelly murdered Ericsson and have admitted doing so, we have an open and shut case against them. They can be arrested and charged with murder, and grand theft too for stealing the yacht. All that can be handled very discretely ... that is, without any public attention ... by the Providencia legal system, which of course I totally control.”
“Sounds good, Fred.”
“Yes, I believe it’s an excellent solution.. So, to recapitulate, we discretely bring Barb and Kelly up on charges, put them into the Providencia criminal justice system for further ... um ... interrogation, followed by a quiet trial and sentencing. If they murdered poor Ericsson ... which they apparently already admit to have done ... they’ll be convicted of a capital offense and do serious time ... like life in the pen, or at hard labor, quite possibly both. In the latter case, we could even see that they were assigned to perform hard labor on Pirate Cay. That’s my considered advice, gentlemen. It’s clean, legal, entirely discreet, and none of us are directly involved.”
Barb lay naked and panting on the cold hard Italian tile flooring. Directly over her, Kelly screamed and squalled on the parrot’s perch as she suffered at the hands of the boss through a prolonged ‘level 7’ electrical shocking, administered by way of an alligator clip attached to her clitoris and a dildo shoved up her rectum.
Her mind awhirl, Barb struggled valiantly to focus. There was much to feel anguished and unnerved about. But what loomed large at that moment was Kelly’s unexpected answer, delivered under mounting levels of electric shock torture, to the boss’s repeated question: “what happened to Ericsson?”
Kelly had lied!
Barb couldn’t believe her ears when she heard Kelly blurt out, between anguished moans and desperate gasps for air, “Barb hit him ... on the head with a skillet. He was dead. We threw him ... overboard.”
That wasn’t at all accurate!
It had been Kelly, not Barb, who had killed Ericsson!
Why had Kelly lied? Was she just confused? Stressed out? Barb knew from her own interrogation session on that same parrot’s perch how excruciatingly painful and stressful the electrical shocking could be. It’s difficult to think straight with electric current raging through one’s private parts. Kelly may just not have been thinking straight.
Or ... was Kelly purposely trying to shift blame onto Barb in order ... somehow ... to save herself?
If so, Barb felt terribly betrayed. She had been guarded towards this older woman, who had lied to her from the very beginning. Kelly had first lied to her over dinner back at Pitcher College. There she had laid out for Barb the terms of employment as a ‘Companion’ on Pirate Cay knowing full well that that what she was saying was totally deceptive. And in the brief time Barb had known her on the island, there had been times when she had seemed on Barb’s side and other times when she had seemed indifferent and certainly less than truthful.
Yet, over time Barb had come to believe that she and Kelly had, by circumstance, if for no other reason, found common ground and purpose, not to mention mutual pleasure ... pleasure of an erotic kind that Barb had never contemplated personally possible before Kelly had rather aggressively introduced her to it in the warm Caribbean waters fronting the billionaire’s estate. It’s not that Barb was unaware of such pleasures. She had often witnessed girls doing it in the dorms at Pitcher, and had even been approached by other girls in the dorm. She had consistently shunned such advances. But Kelly had awakened her to it in a way that had been difficult to resist. She and Kelly had bonded, or so Barb had thought.
That Kelly could so easily betray her now was deeply unsettling.
But it wasn’t just Kelly’s betrayal that had Barb’s mind all awhirl. It was also the startling revelations ... the ‘uncomfortable truths’ ... as people are fond of saying ... that had come to light when she had been placed on the parrot’s perch and tortured so mercilessly.
First and foremost was the revelation that Dean Carter was in on it from the very beginning. This despicable pig of a man, entrusted by the Pitcher College Board of Regents to look after the well-being of the College’s student body, was nothing more than a depraved sicko, engaged in cunningly spiriting innocent young female students into sexual slavery on a distant and obscure Caribbean island!
And there he was, wearing a silly get-up that suggested he was some kind of banana republic torturer called Colonel Martinez, inviting the boss to apply electrical shocks to Barb’s privates as she hung naked and helpless before him.
Once he had been made fully aware that Barb would never leave Pirate Cay, or even be allowed to live after the aborted escape attempt, the Dean had been encouraged by the boss to be so bold as to reveal his identity to her. And then, at the conclusion of her interrogation under torture, after stating that he had unfinished business with her, he had brazenly gone about sexually assaulting her, fucking her with wild abandon. She could still feel his filthy load of spunk oozing out from within her, and was revolted by the thought of it.
But that was only part of it, for she had also learned, much to her chagrin, that Dean Carter had phoned the boss from his Pitcher College office to alert him to her true purpose in answering that advertisement. Which meant that the boss had known, from before she even set foot on his island, exactly what she had been up to!
Indeed, he’d been playing her along from the very beginning. And he’d done so without cluing Kelly in on it, which Barb realized was probably as much a startling revelation to Kelly as it was to herself. When did Kelly know? Or didn’t she? In Barb’s mind the answer to that only further complicated things between her and Kelly.
“Information is power,” the boss had pointedly proclaimed.
But that’s not all. Barb had also learned that Delia and Tara were, in fact, perfectly happy, or so it seemed, with their situation. Which meant that Barb’s whole purpose in coming to Pirate Cay had been a fool’s errand. As it turned out, she wasn’t saving anyone.
But, on the other hand, Barb had succeeded in uncovering shady doings of a highly criminal nature. These men ... the boss, the Prime Minister, and a U.S. Senator, no less, were deeply involved in what could only be described as sex trafficking. Exposing them would be an investigative journalism coup of the highest order if only she could manage to get the word out.
Unfortunately, as she was soon reminded, the likelihood of doing that seemed remote at best. For just then, Kelly launched into a fresh bout of shrill screams and wild spasms. The bastards had raised her shocking to ‘level 8’, two levels shy of what Barb understood to be the maximum of ten. Barb had herself briefly experienced ‘level 10’ when the Senator had gone ape shit and seized the controls. And it had nearly killed her!
Apparently they were giving Kelly a taste of ‘level 8’ just for the hell of it, and we’re sadistically letting her flail about for quite a while before finally switching the current off.
From where Barb lay directly beneath Kelly, she was able to look straight up at Kelly’s face, flushed and framed against the glare of overhead ceiling lights in a tangle of sodden hair. Barb watched as Kelly’s eyelids fluttered ... and as she opened her mouth as if to say something. But all that emerged was a large glob of drool that fell unerringly from her open mouth to Barb’s upturned face, forcing Barb to close her eyes and turn her head away.
By the time she had reopened her eyes and looked upwards again, she found herself looking not at Kelly’s face but up the doc’s legs. Her first thought was that the woman was wearing nothing under her white lab coat. The second was that Kelly might be in deep trouble as the doc appeared to be busy checking Kelly’s pulse and breathing. But after a moment or two, she reported that everything seemed okay. The administration of any further shocks, though, was firmly discouraged.
“Okay, now what do we do with these two sluts?” asked the Senator, who had visibly calmed from his earlier fit of rage over the possibility that Barb might reveal his involvement on Pirate Cay, which could potentially be to the detriment of his political career. “My mind hasn’t changed. I say we do away permanently with them both, and the sooner the better!”
“Let’s not be hasty,” cautioned the billionaire. “Their complete disappearance without explanation could raise eyebrows, especially in the case of Barb ... who is a registered student back at Pitcher.”
“But, what about Delia and Tara?” replied the Senator, waving an arm in exasperation. “Aren’t they on the registrar’s rolls as Pitcher students as well?”
“Yes, that’s true. But since Delia and Tara would be alive rather than dead, we could produce them should any questions ever arise, and they would attest that they are here on the Cay of their own free will. Isn’t that right, girls?”
Delia and Tara, still seated nearby on chairs, nodded affirmatively, although Delia looked faintly uncomfortable at that moment and fidgeted noticeably afterwards.
“So ...” continued the boss. “We need to think this through carefully, and I suggest that we adjourn ... that is the Dean, the Senator, and I ... to my office, where we can put in a call to the Prime Minister so as to include him in our deliberations. Whatever we decide to do with Barb and Kelly, especially if it involves ... uh ... ‘disposing of them permanently’ ... should be done with his approval as he is the ultimate authority here in Providencia. Remember, with Ericsson’s death, we have a potential murder case investigation and all the attention that might surround it to deal with here.”
“Agreed!” snorted the Senator, releasing Delia’s breast, which he had been absentmindedly fondling, and rising from his chair. “I’ll go along with any solution we come up with, so long as Barb is never able to report what she knows to the outside world.”
“Right! Come with me then gentlemen. And, Robert! Get Kelly off the parrot’s perch, and suspend her and Barb from the ceiling by their ankles, pressed against and facing one another, and keep them hanging there until we return. You can have Delia and Tara give you a hand with that. It will be a nice way for Barb and Kelly to contemplate their fate together. If either of them kicks up a fuss, though, feel free to use your flogger on them.”
*************
Five minutes later, the three men were ensconced in the billionaire’s office. He sat behind his oversized desk with the Senator and Dean seated across from him. A service staff member served them all drinks while the boss placed a call to the Prime Minister. They waited for Big Fred to come to the phone.
Through the open office door Barb could be heard laying heatedly into a mute Kelly about which of them was primarily responsible for Ericsson’s death, followed shortly thereafter by the sharp crack of Robert’s whip, a yelp of pain, a flood of obscenities, and then another whip crack, a scream, and then yet another.
“Senator, kindly close the door so we don’t have to listen to that ruckus while we’re speaking to the Prime Minister,” said the boss softly.
“Of course, but perhaps we can watch?” suggested the Senator, raising his eyebrows expectantly and pointing to the large video screen mounted on one of the office’s walls.
The boss nodded. Opening a desk drawer he switched on the video screen. And from a panel on his desktop he activated and adjusted the appropriate camera. An image of Barb and Kelly emerged on the screen, hanging face-to-face, upside down, and spinning slowly as Robert applied lash after lash to their bare backs and butts.
Off to one side, and watching the show in silence, stood Delia, Tara and the doc. Delia was biting her lip.
Moments later, the Prime Minister was on the line.
“I know what this must be about,” boomed Big Fred without introduction over the speaker on the boss’s desk. “I just received a report from the Providencia Coast Guard. Seems your two troublemakers, the same two that we sent off to the Penitentiary the other day for an evening with the inmates, have attempted to abscond with your yacht. The Coast Guard intercepted them, according to this report, and returned them to you in shackles, along with the yacht. And there’s also the matter of a possible murder, so I’m told. A night watchman onboard the yacht, known as Ericsson, is reported missing, quite possibly murdered. Is that correct?”
“That’s about the size of it,” replied the boss. “It’s further complicated by the fact that one of them, Barb Moore, came down to the Cay on a self-appointed mission to spy on what we do here with the intention of exposing it to the media. The long and short of it is, the uppity little bitch needs to be silenced ... permanently! But this is your country, Fred, and given that you are implicated as much as the rest of us if what we do here were to ever get out, we thought we ought to seek your advice about what should be done with Barb ... and Kelly too. You should also know that Kelly claims ... we’ve had Harley interrogate her ... that Barb murdered Ericsson and that together they threw him overboard.”
“Hmmmmm ... how interesting ... regards to Harley ... well, I think it would be best for all concerned if we were to keep this strictly legal. In other words, if Barb and Kelly murdered Ericsson and have admitted doing so, we have an open and shut case against them. They can be arrested and charged with murder, and grand theft too for stealing the yacht. All that can be handled very discretely ... that is, without any public attention ... by the Providencia legal system, which of course I totally control.”
“Sounds good, Fred.”
“Yes, I believe it’s an excellent solution.. So, to recapitulate, we discretely bring Barb and Kelly up on charges, put them into the Providencia criminal justice system for further ... um ... interrogation, followed by a quiet trial and sentencing. If they murdered poor Ericsson ... which they apparently already admit to have done ... they’ll be convicted of a capital offense and do serious time ... like life in the pen, or at hard labor, quite possibly both. In the latter case, we could even see that they were assigned to perform hard labor on Pirate Cay. That’s my considered advice, gentlemen. It’s clean, legal, entirely discreet, and none of us are directly involved.”
M
montycrusto
Guest
Oh I DO like the way this is going!!
windar
Teller of Tales
Barb should perhaps have included two words at the bottom of her post: THE END, because that's all we have, at least for now...Sincere thanks to all who have followed this very sad tale of the loss of innocence, Barb's in the literal sense and Kelly's perhaps as well.Oh I DO like the way this is going!!
The limericks were a tremendous addition to the story and our hats are off to the authors, mostly @montycrusto and @twonines. Brilliant and witty work, guys!
As for any sequel, well, our heroines are still alive so anything is possible. If Hollywood can make endless sequels to everything, why can't we? And let's not forget Tara and Delia. Did the boss' project with Tara come to fruition? What will that mean for them?
Thanks again for reading.
twonines
LIMERICUS
Can this be the end of the tale,
Our admiration just cannot fail.
We`re overjoyed,
At the skills you employed.
Is there a sting in the tail?
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
That should be no problem for Coronel Rodríguez, er, Martinez, er Dean Carter to cover up with a little bureaucratic paperwork.
An even better solution. I'm really coming to respect Big Fred. At the beginning, he seemed comic relief, but now he has a level head. Life at hard labor on Pirate Cay - the mind reels and other parts respond appropriately!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Surely we are now well poised for third series? Excellent work Barb and Windy. Hope you find the time and inspiration for more! Thank you.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Come on, Barb. Get it together, or we'll have to get you back on the Parrots Perch and let the Senator try out the rewired control (now allows levels 11 & 12).TBC ....
twonines
LIMERICUS
To write, must Barb be inspired,
By being to a generator wired?
Anus or pussy,
We`re just not fussy,
As long as we get what`s required.
M
montycrusto
Guest
Hip hip hip hip hip hooray,
For this story of Pirate Cay,
It sure pushed my button,
I guess I’m a glutton
For punishing Barb in this way.
It all was so very well written,
That with it I became rather smitten.
So much so, indeed,
That I can’t wait to read
Further perils of Barb the sex kitten.
So..after a break, a book three,
Is something I’d love to see.
Barb could be brought
In chains to the court..
But reading ahead, that would be.
For this story of Pirate Cay,
It sure pushed my button,
I guess I’m a glutton
For punishing Barb in this way.
It all was so very well written,
That with it I became rather smitten.
So much so, indeed,
That I can’t wait to read
Further perils of Barb the sex kitten.
So..after a break, a book three,
Is something I’d love to see.
Barb could be brought
In chains to the court..
But reading ahead, that would be.
M
montycrusto
Guest
Barb must feel resentful of Kelly,
As they hang there, tied belly to belly.
Such treachery rankles
When you’re hung by your ankles;
Forgiveness? Ha! not on your nelly.
As they hang there, tied belly to belly.
Such treachery rankles
When you’re hung by your ankles;
Forgiveness? Ha! not on your nelly.
M
montycrusto
Guest
“How could you tell all of those lies?”
Says Barb. Kelly says “Bitch, surprise!
I’m not going down
For murder, you clown;
I’ll soon cut a deal with these guys.”
Says Barb. Kelly says “Bitch, surprise!
I’m not going down
For murder, you clown;
I’ll soon cut a deal with these guys.”
M
montycrusto
Guest
“I’m ahead of you, Barb, by a mile!
I’ll be free, while you go to trial.
I’ll be laughing while you’ll
Live on thin prison gruel,
Getting fucked by the guards doggy-style.”
I’ll be free, while you go to trial.
I’ll be laughing while you’ll
Live on thin prison gruel,
Getting fucked by the guards doggy-style.”
M
montycrusto
Guest
All this was said with some feeling,
As they hung from a hook in the ceiling,
Both tightly bound,
Upside down, spinning round
With the whip-blows that Robert was dealing.
As they hung from a hook in the ceiling,
Both tightly bound,
Upside down, spinning round
With the whip-blows that Robert was dealing.