Oh, that's probably the latest witch's broom from Harley Davidson, the flying edition.
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Barb goes BATS
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
17.
It wasn’t long before @Harsh Martinet and @Loxuru returned from the town gaol driving a pair of half-naked women before them. Both were bound at the wrists and hurried along with curses and whiplashes.
One of them stood out for the alluring way she pranced and danced under the lash, and I knew in an instant that she was @Jackie1111, notorious for her erotic late-night tabletop dancing in the town pub, and as much an object of the good wives of Cruxton’s jealous disdain as I was. The other was popularly known as @fat slave girl, or FSG for short, a full-figured trollop, known for her blatantly exhibitionist ways, and a regular occupant of the shaming pillory in the town square. Most townsfolk thought she enjoyed her time in the pillory, especially when her punishment included a birching on her hind quarters.
Casting a wary eye about me, I noted that the crowd gathered on the lawn before the burning vicarage had swelled to include what appeared to be most of the local population. And the swelling numbers, their passions both bathed and roused by the heat of the flames, sparked a renewed, raucously expressed, wave of demands that @Kathy, @messaline, @Eulalia and I, along with the two new arrivals, be flogged and summarily hanged.
Poor Lord @Wragg, in the meantime, was attempting to restore some semblance of order and decorum to the scene, hampered as he was by the arrival of his wife, the Countess, who kept tugging at his sleeve and whispering in his ear. The other four Magistrates, @montycrusto, @twonines, @Jollyrei and @old slave had drawn themselves in a line behind Wragg in an effort to show solidarity, not only with respect to his nagging wife and an abusive crowd, but also to make themselves look important.
Nearby, the Vicar @Praefectus Praetorio, was looking crestfallen and abandoned. Glancing up at the flaming wreckage of his beloved vicarage, and then at the pile of rescued paintings of previous Vicars that lay at his feet, and ultimately to the flame-hued overcast heavens, he would implore despondently, “Why?”.
Brushing off the Countess, Wragg raised his voice to speak: “People of Cruxton! Hear me! Our fair town has been struck a devilish blow this night. Witchery was behind it. Of that there can be no doubt. The Devil has worked his evil ways into the vulnerable minds and souls of these six bewitched women who stand before you!”
On cue, Loxoru and Martinet roused all six of us to our feet to be greeted by a chorus of wrathful shouts and cruel epithets from the crowd.
We stood, side by side, with our heads bowed … with the exception of Eulalia, who took it upon herself to lay a fearsome Caledonian curse on the lot of them, “Yese daurna leuk abune ta the heavens. Teine sal fall ahn alunt yer hames. Yer bairns sal dee in yer erms!” (You daren't look to the heavens. Fire shall fall and alight your homes. Your babes shall die in your arms.)
A gasp of shock rippled through the densely packed crowd, over which Twonines could be heard to proclaim, “Oh dear! What could be worse, than the entire town under a curse?”
To which Montycrusto hastened to add, “How can one house set afire … have consequences so dire?”
“Silence her!” demanded Wragg, pointing his finger at Eulalia. “Decisions must be made here. We shall tolerate no interference.”
Whereupon Martinet and Loxoru hastened to gag and throw the naked Scottish witch to the ground, and deliver a series of punishing lashes as she writhed about cursing and screaming on the dewy grass.
“Where the Devil is @thehangingtree ?” cried Wragg above the unholy din.
“Right here, behind you,” answered the surprisingly sober-sounding hired executioner. “Don’t get your balls all in a dither.”
“I’ve no time for back talk., Mr. Tree. This is a crisis!”
“Yep.” was the nonchalant response, punctuated with a belch.
“Can’t you see. We’re facing a riot! The crowd demands a mass hanging.”
“Nope, can’t be done.”
“Why not, pray tell?”
“We’ll, for one, it’s not in my contract, which calls for a witch burning involving pyres of Arkansas pine and posts of French Premium Wood.”
“Well, improvise!”
“Can’t. Besides, hangings done properly require French Premium ropes and nooses, and they’d have to be ordered and shipped here, which takes time. Nope … simply can’t be done!”
“Why raise such a fuss? Our Mr. Tree appears a blunderbuss!” observed, Montycrusto snidely.
“Yes, definitely an addle pate … a most disagreeable trait,” agreed Twonines.
“Then we have no choice but to return to the original plan … we shall burn them at the stake in the morning,” sighed Wragg resignedly to his Magistrates. “Perhaps we can appease the crowd and buy time, for now, by ordering that our six witch-whores be treated to an immediate and thorough public flogging!”
TBC
It wasn’t long before @Harsh Martinet and @Loxuru returned from the town gaol driving a pair of half-naked women before them. Both were bound at the wrists and hurried along with curses and whiplashes.
One of them stood out for the alluring way she pranced and danced under the lash, and I knew in an instant that she was @Jackie1111, notorious for her erotic late-night tabletop dancing in the town pub, and as much an object of the good wives of Cruxton’s jealous disdain as I was. The other was popularly known as @fat slave girl, or FSG for short, a full-figured trollop, known for her blatantly exhibitionist ways, and a regular occupant of the shaming pillory in the town square. Most townsfolk thought she enjoyed her time in the pillory, especially when her punishment included a birching on her hind quarters.
Casting a wary eye about me, I noted that the crowd gathered on the lawn before the burning vicarage had swelled to include what appeared to be most of the local population. And the swelling numbers, their passions both bathed and roused by the heat of the flames, sparked a renewed, raucously expressed, wave of demands that @Kathy, @messaline, @Eulalia and I, along with the two new arrivals, be flogged and summarily hanged.
Poor Lord @Wragg, in the meantime, was attempting to restore some semblance of order and decorum to the scene, hampered as he was by the arrival of his wife, the Countess, who kept tugging at his sleeve and whispering in his ear. The other four Magistrates, @montycrusto, @twonines, @Jollyrei and @old slave had drawn themselves in a line behind Wragg in an effort to show solidarity, not only with respect to his nagging wife and an abusive crowd, but also to make themselves look important.
Nearby, the Vicar @Praefectus Praetorio, was looking crestfallen and abandoned. Glancing up at the flaming wreckage of his beloved vicarage, and then at the pile of rescued paintings of previous Vicars that lay at his feet, and ultimately to the flame-hued overcast heavens, he would implore despondently, “Why?”.
Brushing off the Countess, Wragg raised his voice to speak: “People of Cruxton! Hear me! Our fair town has been struck a devilish blow this night. Witchery was behind it. Of that there can be no doubt. The Devil has worked his evil ways into the vulnerable minds and souls of these six bewitched women who stand before you!”
On cue, Loxoru and Martinet roused all six of us to our feet to be greeted by a chorus of wrathful shouts and cruel epithets from the crowd.
We stood, side by side, with our heads bowed … with the exception of Eulalia, who took it upon herself to lay a fearsome Caledonian curse on the lot of them, “Yese daurna leuk abune ta the heavens. Teine sal fall ahn alunt yer hames. Yer bairns sal dee in yer erms!” (You daren't look to the heavens. Fire shall fall and alight your homes. Your babes shall die in your arms.)
A gasp of shock rippled through the densely packed crowd, over which Twonines could be heard to proclaim, “Oh dear! What could be worse, than the entire town under a curse?”
To which Montycrusto hastened to add, “How can one house set afire … have consequences so dire?”
“Silence her!” demanded Wragg, pointing his finger at Eulalia. “Decisions must be made here. We shall tolerate no interference.”
Whereupon Martinet and Loxoru hastened to gag and throw the naked Scottish witch to the ground, and deliver a series of punishing lashes as she writhed about cursing and screaming on the dewy grass.
“Where the Devil is @thehangingtree ?” cried Wragg above the unholy din.
“Right here, behind you,” answered the surprisingly sober-sounding hired executioner. “Don’t get your balls all in a dither.”
“I’ve no time for back talk., Mr. Tree. This is a crisis!”
“Yep.” was the nonchalant response, punctuated with a belch.
“Can’t you see. We’re facing a riot! The crowd demands a mass hanging.”
“Nope, can’t be done.”
“Why not, pray tell?”
“We’ll, for one, it’s not in my contract, which calls for a witch burning involving pyres of Arkansas pine and posts of French Premium Wood.”
“Well, improvise!”
“Can’t. Besides, hangings done properly require French Premium ropes and nooses, and they’d have to be ordered and shipped here, which takes time. Nope … simply can’t be done!”
“Why raise such a fuss? Our Mr. Tree appears a blunderbuss!” observed, Montycrusto snidely.
“Yes, definitely an addle pate … a most disagreeable trait,” agreed Twonines.
“Then we have no choice but to return to the original plan … we shall burn them at the stake in the morning,” sighed Wragg resignedly to his Magistrates. “Perhaps we can appease the crowd and buy time, for now, by ordering that our six witch-whores be treated to an immediate and thorough public flogging!”
TBC
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Suits me.
Watch what you call Tree...
twonines
LIMERICUS
At the risk of repeating myself, isn`t a Blunderbuss a vehicle for the conveyance of misguided spinsters to maternity homes?
Harsh Martinet
Consul
If there aren't enough whipping posts available, I have some surplus wooden horses that aren't being used (due to some regrettable decision making by certain people in positions of authority)
Doragon
Tribune
In my country a blunderbus is a kind of musket with a trumpet shaped nozzle that fires scrap metal, which is so easy to use, you can't blunder with it.
There's worse, a blunderbuss is 'a short gun with a large bore' - it was Dutch donderbus 'thunder-gun', but blended with English blunder, which probably came from Norse blundra 'doze, shut eyes', so 'stagger about like you're dozy or blindfold' - the blunderbuss was a very inaccurate firearm, and the use for 'a stupid, blundering fellow' obviously applied the same sense to an executioner who couldn't hammer in a straight nail - perish the thought!Watch what you call Tree...
Harsh Martinet
Consul
You never cease to arouse ....oops, I meant AMAZE me EulThere's worse, a blunderbuss is 'a short gun with a large bore' - it was Dutch donderbus 'thunder-gun', but blended with English blunder, which probably came from Norse blundra 'doze, shut eyes', so 'stagger about like you're dozy or blindfold' - the blunderbuss was a very inaccurate firearm, and the use for 'a stupid, blundering fellow' obviously applied the same sense to an executioner who couldn't hammer in a straight nail - perish the thought!
Harsh Martinet
Consul
So we don't have to lift as many heavy wooden horses up the scaffold steps, we could let them ride tandem, face to face. Because I have a merciful nature, they could even be allowed to pick their "riding" partnersIf there aren't enough whipping posts available, I have some surplus wooden horses that aren't being used (due to some regrettable decision making by certain people in positions of authority)
Harsh Martinet
Consul
So, whose riding with whom? The sooner you decide the more likely you'll get your first choice 
If there aren't enough whipping posts available, I have some surplus wooden horses that aren't being used (due to some regrettable decision making by certain people in positions of authority)
So we don't have to lift as many heavy wooden horses up the scaffold steps, we could let them ride tandem, face to face. Because I have a merciful nature, they could even be allowed to pick their "riding" partners
Someone appears to be pushing a particular agenda hereSo, whose riding with whom? The sooner you decide the more likely you'll get your first choice
Harsh Martinet
Consul
I'm taking advantage of the "can't post pics" vulnerability....a coup of sortsSomeone appears to be pushing a particular agenda here
messaline
Crucified Amazon
I wanted to reply but I cant insert any image !
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
"... Nearby, the Vicar @Praefectus Praetorio, was looking crestfallen and abandoned ..." - That would have made a splendid picture
"... we shall burn them at the stake in the morning ..." - Excellent, the conflagration is back on!
Great to have you back Barb ...
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Cursing!? Me!? Never! I am well educated and behave accordingly!
Marsch! and Schnell is no cursing! You should not confuse German with cursing!
Get with it then ..Marsch! and Schnell is no cursing! You should not confuse German with cursing!