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Barb goes BATS
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Good point!
Nagging makes the witch!
If the countess nags, she is a witch!
I rest my case!
twonines
LIMERICUS
The best "Carry On" film by far,
Has Barbara Moore as its star.
With scenes that are graphic,
Some that are Sapphic,
And an audience drawn from afar.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Brilliant two nines!
What? You take me for some kind of exhibitionist???
M
montycrusto
Guest
I’m sure you could organise an exhibition quite efficiently!What? You take me for some kind of exhibitionist???
Well, we'll let you know when we light a fire under your tight little!!!What? You take me for some kind of exhibitionist???
Harsh Martinet
Consul
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
One thing is for sure, they will never charge her with being a Succubus! (I don't do that!)Barb casting a spell. Is witchcraft really that bad?
Barb, the Succubus Queen
ledoux
Governor
Sounds like a fair exchange to me.
What? You take me for some kind of exhibitionist???
Surely not, there’s none Moore modest than Barb’s gallery displaying her mores…
(Rhyming “mores” with arse and alluding to “tight littles” is clearly barred
)
13,
Artfully bound together by @Harsh Martinet and @Loxuru in an elaborate coffle of rope and shackles … @Kathy, @messaline and I were about to mount the stairs leading away from Cruxton Abbey’s punishment room when Martinet abruptly signaled a pause. For the Vicar @Praefectus Praetorio was about to speak, and our handlers wanted to listen in.
And so, we waited and listened, as the Vicar declared in a deeply sonorous, but sadly regretful voice, “It causes me terrible pain and anguish to be required to denounce one so close to me, for whom I have abounding Christian Affection. As you know, @Eulalia, my Scottish alter girl and servant, came to me, years ago, as an orphan on the recommendation of my good and Holy friend, John Hamilton, Bishop of Whithorn. I have supervised her education and spiritual life to the best of my ability, with liberal chastisement and generous use of the cane. However, you would almost think she found pleasure in the beatings.”
In the pregnant moment of silence that followed, I heard the Countess drawing in her breath sharply, as well as a loud snort from the slumbering Magistrate, old slave, and an equally loud belch from the likes of the uncouth executioner who styled himself @thehangingtree.
“I fear her wild Caledonian blood carries the heresy of those parts,” continued the Vicar. “I recently caught her constructing a simulacrum of a man out of straw. I forced her to reveal its meaning and she named it "The Wicker Man," and believed it carried some powers of the old pagan gods.”
“Sounds like witchery, most definitively,” murmured @twonines .
“Can the Devil corrupt a Scot? I cannot imagine why not,” observed @montycrusto pithily.
Therefore, it is with a heavy heart,” sighed the Vicar, “that I must denounce her as a worshiper of the devil and a witch. I shall surely miss the warmth she gives in bed to my old, chilled bones, but I must do what is right.”
“Alright, then you’ll be requiring six pyres and stakes, I presume,” summarized Tree, unnecessarily stating the obvious.
“Indeed.” agreed @Wragg. “It would appear so. May we have a show of hands? All in favor of prosecuting the accused altar girl, Eulalia, for witchery? … Splendid … We must dispatch someone immediately to fetch this Caledonian Devil worshiper and deliver her to the town gaol to join the others!”
“As you wish, your Lordship,” called out Martinet from the stairwell. “Say no more. It shall be done! And rest assured that the Graf and I will wring a confession from her by morning, as well.”
“Yes, see that it’s so.” said Wragg, smug in the knowledge that all would be right for the big day. “Now, there’s just one last matter yet to be addressed. Mr. Tree! Are you prepared to enlighten us as to your fee?”
“My services are far from free,” announced Tree. Buried deep in calculated thought, he rubbed his chin with one hand and scratched his ass with the other, before drawling. “Um … let’s see, that’s tuppence for each Arkansas pine fagot … times five for each of … uh … six pyres … but no, wait a minute … mustn’t forget the French premium wood stakes … at … uh … two shillings each … plus … uh professional services at … no, wait … that’s not right … starting over now … uh, what was the question?
“Tell you what, Tree … we are prepared to offer you one crown, two shillings and as many pints as you can quaff at the Cruxton Arms pub,” interrupted Lord Wragg impatiently. “Take it or leave it!”
“I’ll take it!”
“I wonder whether the poor chap will ever awaken, to the fact it’s he who has just been taken?” observed Twonines in an aside to the other Magistrates.
“Whenever fools rush in, Lord Wragg will always win,” added Montycrusto, nodding his head knowingly.
“Whazat?” startled @old slave .
“It’s getting to be dusky outside. I must go.” remarked @Jollyrei darkly. “I need to be off now for it’s time to make my nocturnal rounds of the town’s graveyards to see whether anyone new has turned up.”
“Meeting adjourned,” pronounced Wragg, as the Countess surging past him, hooked arms with him and propelled him toward the doorway. The expression on her face resembled a threatening thundercloud.
Satisfied that no further drama was about to unfold, Harsh Martinet jerked at the rope tied around my waist to set his coffled charges in motion.
“Let us pray,” I heard the Vicar say as I stumbled up the stairs, followed by Kathy and Messaline.
TBC
(Note: special thanks to PrPr for kindly contributing the text of the Vicar’s stunning denunciation of his Scottish altar girl.)
Artfully bound together by @Harsh Martinet and @Loxuru in an elaborate coffle of rope and shackles … @Kathy, @messaline and I were about to mount the stairs leading away from Cruxton Abbey’s punishment room when Martinet abruptly signaled a pause. For the Vicar @Praefectus Praetorio was about to speak, and our handlers wanted to listen in.
And so, we waited and listened, as the Vicar declared in a deeply sonorous, but sadly regretful voice, “It causes me terrible pain and anguish to be required to denounce one so close to me, for whom I have abounding Christian Affection. As you know, @Eulalia, my Scottish alter girl and servant, came to me, years ago, as an orphan on the recommendation of my good and Holy friend, John Hamilton, Bishop of Whithorn. I have supervised her education and spiritual life to the best of my ability, with liberal chastisement and generous use of the cane. However, you would almost think she found pleasure in the beatings.”
In the pregnant moment of silence that followed, I heard the Countess drawing in her breath sharply, as well as a loud snort from the slumbering Magistrate, old slave, and an equally loud belch from the likes of the uncouth executioner who styled himself @thehangingtree.
“I fear her wild Caledonian blood carries the heresy of those parts,” continued the Vicar. “I recently caught her constructing a simulacrum of a man out of straw. I forced her to reveal its meaning and she named it "The Wicker Man," and believed it carried some powers of the old pagan gods.”
“Sounds like witchery, most definitively,” murmured @twonines .
“Can the Devil corrupt a Scot? I cannot imagine why not,” observed @montycrusto pithily.
Therefore, it is with a heavy heart,” sighed the Vicar, “that I must denounce her as a worshiper of the devil and a witch. I shall surely miss the warmth she gives in bed to my old, chilled bones, but I must do what is right.”
“Alright, then you’ll be requiring six pyres and stakes, I presume,” summarized Tree, unnecessarily stating the obvious.
“Indeed.” agreed @Wragg. “It would appear so. May we have a show of hands? All in favor of prosecuting the accused altar girl, Eulalia, for witchery? … Splendid … We must dispatch someone immediately to fetch this Caledonian Devil worshiper and deliver her to the town gaol to join the others!”
“As you wish, your Lordship,” called out Martinet from the stairwell. “Say no more. It shall be done! And rest assured that the Graf and I will wring a confession from her by morning, as well.”
“Yes, see that it’s so.” said Wragg, smug in the knowledge that all would be right for the big day. “Now, there’s just one last matter yet to be addressed. Mr. Tree! Are you prepared to enlighten us as to your fee?”
“My services are far from free,” announced Tree. Buried deep in calculated thought, he rubbed his chin with one hand and scratched his ass with the other, before drawling. “Um … let’s see, that’s tuppence for each Arkansas pine fagot … times five for each of … uh … six pyres … but no, wait a minute … mustn’t forget the French premium wood stakes … at … uh … two shillings each … plus … uh professional services at … no, wait … that’s not right … starting over now … uh, what was the question?
“Tell you what, Tree … we are prepared to offer you one crown, two shillings and as many pints as you can quaff at the Cruxton Arms pub,” interrupted Lord Wragg impatiently. “Take it or leave it!”
“I’ll take it!”
“I wonder whether the poor chap will ever awaken, to the fact it’s he who has just been taken?” observed Twonines in an aside to the other Magistrates.
“Whenever fools rush in, Lord Wragg will always win,” added Montycrusto, nodding his head knowingly.
“Whazat?” startled @old slave .
“It’s getting to be dusky outside. I must go.” remarked @Jollyrei darkly. “I need to be off now for it’s time to make my nocturnal rounds of the town’s graveyards to see whether anyone new has turned up.”
“Meeting adjourned,” pronounced Wragg, as the Countess surging past him, hooked arms with him and propelled him toward the doorway. The expression on her face resembled a threatening thundercloud.
Satisfied that no further drama was about to unfold, Harsh Martinet jerked at the rope tied around my waist to set his coffled charges in motion.
“Let us pray,” I heard the Vicar say as I stumbled up the stairs, followed by Kathy and Messaline.
TBC
(Note: special thanks to PrPr for kindly contributing the text of the Vicar’s stunning denunciation of his Scottish altar girl.)
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
It is a veritable conflagration building for sure! But, whatever deeds are to be done, and sensual sinews scorched, our souls can remain hopeful of ultimate redemption whilst ever we have the good vicar to care for them ... another brilliant chapter Barb!
