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The Menorah-A Stan and Barb Chanukah Story

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Teller of Tales
Tonight begins Chanukah, the eight day Festival of Lights, commemorating the victory of the Maccabees (a good Scottish name) over the Seleucid Greek occupiers of Judea in 166 BCE. The story goes that after the occupiers were ejected, the Jews wanted to reconsecrate the Temple but could only find enough consecrated oil to burn for one day; however, a miracle occurred and it lasted for eight days instead (sort of like if a single Seagrams bottle could last Tree a whole week). To commemorate this event, Jews light the menorah, a candelabra that holds 8 candles, plus one, the shamash, or helper, which is used to light the others.

Now, who better to celebrate this holiday with, than our two favorite kinky detectives (retired), Stan Goldman and Barbara Moore? It's a two part story (not eight, thankfully) with a few illustrations by Madiosi in the second part. Here goes nothing....

“So, Stan, what do you want for Chanukah?” Barb asked, as she sat down next to him on the sofa, posing her glass of Riesling on the end table.

He turned to look at her, then picked up the remote and lowered the volume. He’d seen this Seinfeld at least 20 times before-the one where Kramer and Newman load up Newman’s mail truck to take empty bottles and cans to Michigan to cash in on the 10 cent deposit there, rather than accept New York’s paltry 5 cents. “I didn’t think you knew about Chanukah, Moore.”

Barb rolled her eyes. “Do you listen to anything I say?”

“Uh, sure I do, Barb. I treasure every word that passes from your beautiful lips.”

“Cut the crap, Goldman! You know that I was a Community Relations Officer back when I was on the Minneapolis PD. I celebrated Chanukah, Eid, Lunar New Year, Diwali, Kwanzaa, you name it. So if I want to give my man the best Chanukah of his life, he’d be smart to sit up and take notice.”

Stan noticed that he was slumped down into the couch. He sat up. “Honestly, Barb,” he said. “I have everything a man could want-a nice house, money in the bank, decent health for a guy my age.” He noticed that Barb was glaring at him. “And, of course, the best girlfriend anyone could dream of.”

“Don’t you ever forget that, Stan,” Barb warned him.

Stan leaned over and kissed Barb. “Don’t worry, I won’t,” he assured her.

“Still,” she said after they broke off smooching, “I’d like to give you something special. Because you’re a special guy and you’ve risked your life a few times to help me out of some trouble that I got myself into.”

“You can say that again,” Stan said, grinning at her.

“OK. You’re a special guy who…” Barb repeated. “Seriously, though, what would you like?”

Stan looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “Let me think about that a bit, OK? I appreciate the offer and I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”

“OK, Stan,” Barb replied. “Let me know when you come up with an idea. Otherwise, I could always get you a couple of ties, as long as you promise to throw out a few of those ratty donut-stained old ones.”

“I don’t wear ties much anymore, Barb. I’m retired. And the ratty old ones are just fine for tying you to the bed.”

“But, you know,” Stan continued, looking serious now. “If we’re going to celebrate Chanukah, we need a menorah.”

“You mean you don’t have one, Stan?” Barb asked, feigning shock.

“I did,” he replied, “But it seems to have disappeared when we moved up here from the City.”

“Well you better go get one. They probably have some at the gift store down at the Mall. Or you could find one on line, I’m sure,” Barb said. As she was talking, Barb noticed a big, evil grin breaking out on Stan’s face. He seemed to be counting in his head, extending first one finger, then the next. “You need to take off your shoes and socks to help you count, Stan?” Barb asked.

“Nope,” he replied. “I’m fine. I just got an idea for a menorah and for the gift I want all wrapped up in one cute little package,” he said.

“I’m not sure I should ask. In fact, I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t, but what is it?”

Stan just smiled enigmatically and stood. “You’ll find out. Let’s go downstairs, sweet cheeks.”

“No way, Goldman,” Barb protested. “Not until you tell me exactly what is in that evil so-called mind of yours.”

“Come on, Barb. Have a little faith in me. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

For some reason, Barb broke into peals of laughter. Stan glared at her, pretending to be annoyed. “Oh, you think this is funny, do you? That’ll cost you extra, Moore. Now downstairs, on the double. You offered me a Chanukah gift and I’m taking you up on your offer.”

“Me and my big mouth,” Barb muttered, as she stood and walked towards the stairs that led to the basement, Stan following close behind.

Once down in their basement playroom, Stan wasted little time. “You know the drill, Moore.” She pulled her shirt over her head, then reached behind her to unhook her bra, letting it fall to the ground.

She winked at Stan and swiveled her hips provocatively, making her boobs bounce like twin balloons. Stan’s eyes were fixed on them, following their every sway and dip. “You like what you see?” Barb said, teasingly.

“Of course, I do,” Stan replied.

“Good,” Barb said, breaking off her dance and bending down to pick up her bra. “Because that’s all you’re getting, Goldman. You haven’t been such a good boy this year.”

Stan frowned. “Nice try, Moore. I’ve been very good. Now lose the rest.”

Barb put her hands on her hips and stood there looking defiant. “Suit yourself, Barb,” Stan said. “A few dozen with the cat will change your mind, I bet.”

“You wouldn’t,” she stated, not looking terribly sure that he wouldn’t.

“Try me,” Stan retorted.

Barb shook her head, but began unbuttoning her jeans. With a few very seductive wiggles of her tight little ass, she soon stood before Stan, naked as the day she was born. “I’m glad you came to your senses, Barb,” he said. “Now be a good girl and hop up on the table.”

Barb stuck her tongue out, but, despite that little show of defiance, climbed up on the table. “On your back,” Stan ordered. Barb arranged herself as directed while Stan went to get some ropes. He tied her hands to the rings set into the table next to her head.

Barb stretched her legs out waiting for Stan to tie her ankles to the lower end of the table. “Nope,” he said. “I want your legs up over your head.”

“You’re kidding, Stan, right? You think I’m Simone Biles?” Barb protested.

“Come on, Barb, you can do it. Here let me help.” Stan grabbed her feet and lifted them so that they were high in the air. Barb’s tight little was lifted right off the table, exposing both her delightful pussy and her rear passage. Quickly, before she could lower her legs, Stan tied her ankles to a chain that hung down from the ceiling.

“Now just hold tight, babe. Don’t go anywhere. I gotta get some things from the kitchen. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Stan Goldman, where are you going?” Barb cried. “If you leave me here we’re done, finished. I’m not kidding. You’ll have to order one of those Japanese blow-up dolls, because who else would have you?”

“Relax, Barb. This will be a great Chanukah present and you’ll like it just as much as I will. I won’t be gone more than a few minutes, OK?” Then he turned and walked up the stairs.


Rebel Leader
Staff member
“Uh, sure I do, Barb. I treasure every word that passes from your beautiful lips.”

Pure blarney :rolleyes:

Stan just smiled enigmatically and stood. “You’ll find out. Let’s go downstairs, sweet cheeks

Hate being called that ... :mad:

Barb’s tight little was lifted right off the table, exposing both her delightful pussy and her rear passage.

Geeze :facepalm:

“Relax, Barb. This will be a great Chanukah present and you’ll like it just as much as I will. I won’t be gone more than a few minutes, OK?” Then he turned and walked up the stairs.

Oh Shit! :eek:

Praefectus Praetorio

R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
a miracle occurred and it lasted for eight days instead (sort of like if a single Seagrams bottle could last Tree a whole week).
I believe the oil in lamps miracle. There no way the Seagrams and the Tree lasting!:facepalm:
exposing both her delightful pussy and her rear passage
Is this a permitted view/ Do all us readers get demerits!:eek:
This will be a great Chanukah present and you’ll like it just as much as I will.
Want bet?:cool:


Teller of Tales
True to his word, Stan wasn’t gone long. Barb looked over nervously as she heard his feet on the stairs. ‘Me and my big mouth,’ she thought to herself. ‘I don’t know what that asshole has planned, but I bet he will enjoy it more than I will.’

Barb watched Stan approach her. He was carrying an old shoebox. “Glad you stuck around, Moore,” he said, grinning evilly.

“Very funny, Goldman. What’s in the box?” she demanded. “What’s this idea of yours? I’m not sure I want any part in it.”

Stan smiled. “As I see things right now, Moore, you don’t exactly have much choice, do you?”

Barb squinted, a bit annoyed that Stan had accurately described the situation. “Yeah, whatever. At least be decent enough to tell me what I have coming.”

Stan set the box down on the table beside Barb’s head. “OK, fair enough, Barb. You offered me a Chanukah gift and I accepted. The gift is you, Barb. And then you said we needed a menorah and we do. So, being the brilliant detective that I am, I solved the case, killing two birds with one stone. The gift is you and the menorah is, well, you, too.”

Barb looked puzzled and a bit concerned, “What do you mean, I’m the menorah, Stan?”

Stan opened the box and tilted it so that Barb could see inside. “Oh, shit!” she muttered. “Candles? Where exactly are you planning to put those, Stan?”

“I did the numbers, Barb. There are eight nights of Chanukah. You have two ears, two nostrils and one mouth, the last one of those all too often getting you and sometimes me in trouble. So that’s five.”

Barb did not look happy, but Stan continued. “Then there’s two places below, front and back, so that’s seven. And I think I can use your belly button for numero ocho.”

“Geez, Goldman,” Barb complained. “You’ve had some dumb ideas before, but this takes the cake.”

“Really? I’ve had some dumb ideas? I was the one who left you tied up while I went for a run and got kidnapped and nailed to a cross? I was the one who insisted on mixing in to a bunch of white slavers after retiring from the Force and getting us both kidnapped and you on your way to a harem and me on my way to Davy Jones’ Locker? Yep, I’m the King of Dumb Ideas.”

“OK, Stan, so I occasionally, very occasionally, have a dumb idea myself. But I’m still pretty smart, aren’t I?” she asked, trying her best to look fetching.

“Yeah, you are, Barb, no question about it, but I think you outsmarted yourself this time.” Stan reached into the box and extracted a rather large blue candle. “Let’s see, where should this one go?” Stan asked.

“Geez,” Barb said, rolling her eyes. “You’re on your own trying to figure this one out, Goldman.”

Stan knelt between Barb’s legs, licking gently around her labia and clitoris. He looked up at her. “Being a sensitive guy, I want to make it nice and wet so it goes in easily,” he said, enjoying feeling her squirming with pleasure under his tongue and listening to her moans of pleasure. “Should I make you cum?” he asked.

“Yes, Stan, you should,” Barb panted. “Please.”

Stan stopped his licking. “Nah, we have a holiday to celebrate first. Maybe later,” he said, picking up the candle and inserting it into her vagina. It went easily into the well-lubricated passage.


Barb squirmed and moaned with delight as the waxy object penetrated her. “That feels good, a bit bigger than what I’m used to having up there, but it’s very nice.”

“Oh, you want to be a wise guy, Moore? Well, Stan has a fix for that,” he said grinning. He extracted a medium sized candle from the shoebox, along with a roll of first aid tape, from which he tore off a piece. “Now open wide, Barb. I have to fix this so it shuts you up, but leaves space to breathe when the candles go in your nostrils.”

“What an asshole you are, Goldman,” Barb said, but nevertheless opened her mouth. After going through several pieces of tape, he was able to fix the candle in one side of her mouth, leaving the other side free to allow air to pass.

“Mmmm,” Barb protested, unable to move her tongue to form actual words.

“I should have done that a long time ago,” Stan said. “The next one is a no brainer.” He imagined if Barb could talk she would be saying that she knew a certain someone who fit that description, but fortunately she could only glare at him.

“Up the back passage,” Stan said, smiling. He took out a medium sized candle and carefully pushed it slowly, but deliberately, into her anus. He felt the muscle clenching it as it slid in. “Nice and tight. Should stay in, no problem,” he pronounced. Barb was glaring at him. He could only imagine what she would be saying if only she could speak. “Good thing I did your mouth, isn’t it, Moore?” A string of undecipherable, but, doubtless obscene, protests came from her taped orifice. “That’s three,” Stan said, looking satisfied with how things were going.

More wordless protests came from Barb’s mouth. “Now the ears,” he continued, extracting two smaller candles and gently inserting them into Barb’s ears, taping them in place.

“That’s five. More than halfway there. Now the belly button will require a bit of support, I think.” Stan took one of the small candles out of the box and then reached in to extract the box of matches that they used to light kindling in the fireplace. He struck one and touched it to the wick. The candle sputtered into flame.

Stan bent over Barb’s belly, letting the hot wax pool in her navel. She was squirming, this time in discomfort, rather than pleasure. “Just a bit more, Barb,” he assured her. Finally, he judged that there was enough wax pooled in her belly button to hold the candle. He blew the flame out and inserted the other end into her navel, holding it there while blowing on the wax until it solidified. He let go and the candle remained upright.

“Sweet,” Stan said, looking very satisfied with himself. “That’s six and your nostrils will be eight. Perfect.” Then he looked down and shook his head. “Shit!” he muttered. “A real menorah has nine candles. There’s the shamash, the one used to light the others. How could I forget that? Now where to put that one?” he wondered aloud. Barb did not look happy, for some reason.

Then, Stan’s face lit up. He took one of the larger candles out of the box and placed it between her breasts, pressing the two mounds of flesh together such that they held the taper upright. He looked at Barb and smiled. “I know what you’re thinking, Barb,” he said. “You’re thinking, ‘That Stan Goldman is a fricken’ genius to come up with an idea like that’. I’m right, aren’t I?” Barb just glared at him.

“So, I think we’re cleared for lift off,” Stan said, as he extracted two very small birthday cake candles and stuck one in each of Barb’s nostrils. Then, he lit the candle that he had tested between her breasts and went around lighting each of the eight candles he had inserted into Barb’s orifices, starting with the one in her ass, then the one in her pussy, followed by the one in her belly button and then the ones in her ears, nose and mouth.

Once all eight were lit and dripping their hot wax down onto Barb’s sensitive skin, he took the shamash candle and held it over her breasts, letting the wax drip down onto her nipples and run down into her cleavage. Barb was squirming quite a bit as the hot wax ran down her sweating breasts. “If you hold still, it will be over quicker,” Stan wisely counselled. Barb didn’t seem to see the wisdom of this advice, as she kept on squirming.

Finally, Stan decided there was enough wax in her cleavage to hold the candle, so he placed it in there and taped her breasts together to be safe. Then, he stepped back and admired his handiwork. “I know you’re wishing me a Very Happy Chanukah, and I certainly wish the same to you, Moore,” he announced.

“Looks like we’re almost done here,” Stan said, taking out his phone. “I’ll blow the candles out and untie you just as soon as I snap a quick photo for Reggie and the boys back in the squadroom and the folks in the DA’s office and Page Six of the Post and…”


And that's how Stan and Barb celebrated Chanukah. Life is short, so we should celebrate whenever we can, however we can. Later, Stan let Barb out of the cellar, so they could have a nice dinner.Madiosi-2018-487BarbMenora1.jpg



Rebel Leader
Staff member
And that's how Stan and Barb celebrated Chanukah. Life is short, so we should celebrate whenever we can, however we can. Later, Stan let Barb out of the cellar, so they could have a nice dinner.

Goldman, you just set the Jewish faith back a thousand years with that dumb stunt. I hope you’re pleased with yourself! :confused:


Rebel Leader
Staff member
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