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Basement Bound: A Stan Goldman/Barbara Moore Adventure
- Thread starter windar
- Start date
windar
Teller of Tales
22.
It was a faint thing to hang one’s life on, to be sure, but Stan took it as a modest glimmer of hope that they had given him clothes to wear. These thugs weren’t the type to throw good clothing overboard, were they? Of course, he could see that the T shirt had several holes and the jeans had oil stains all down the front of both legs. Realistically, he guessed that they were likely castoffs from one of the Third World crew members who toiled in the engine room keeping the decrepit engines running long enough to deliver their “cargo”-Barb and the other girls- to their lives of sexual slavery and would be no more missed by Alex and his gang than Stan himself would be.
Hating himself for it, Stan couldn’t help looking at Barb and Tina. The resemblance was amazing, particularly since Barb looked young for her age. If not exactly twins, they could easily pass for sisters. He knew from his days of perusing porn sites that seeing twins (which his head knew were just actresses who resembled each other, though his cock might disagree) making lesbian love to each other and then, perhaps, being taken by a guy or a couple of guys was a very common fantasy. It certainly appealed to him, and, judging by their reactions, it appealed to the thugs and crew members as well.
As one of the crew pulled Stan’s hands behind him and began tying them, Stan watched Max pour the oil on his hands and approach Barb. The thought of that thug rubbing his hands all over her made Stan want to puke, even more than the tossing of the ship and the smell of the diesel fuel did. But when Max asked for a volunteer to oil Tina, he was surprised to see the crewman who was tying his hands rush up to volunteer for that more interesting task before properly finishing his assigned job.
Stan tested the bonds and, to his amazement and relief, found them loose. Carefully, making sure that no one was watching him, he held the ropes steady with his left hand and began working his right hand free. He needn’t have worried-every eye was fixed on the girls’ shiny bodies.
Tina was staring at Barb with undisguised hatred. Stan knew that she blamed Barb for her predicament-after all the goons had selected her because of the resemblance, though that was hardly Barb’s fault.
Barb, for her part, looked defiant. “Neither of us really want to do this. We refuse!” she spat.
‘Good for you!’ Stan thought. That was the Barb he knew!
Then Alex ordered, “Bring lover boy over here and put a gun to his head.” That, of course, was also the Barb that Stan knew, the one who had gotten him into this situation in the first place despite his warnings. And Stan had little reason to think, now that they were at sea, that they would hesitate to kill him.
He quickly slid his right hand back into the loop in the ropes as the two goons grabbed him and pulled him to front of the circle of men and forced him to his knees. One of them placed a pistol against Stan’s temple, the metal cold and greasy against his skin.
Stan breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Barb slither over to Tina and kiss her full on the lips. He wondered how much on her part was simply acquiescing to keep the thugs from shooting him on the spot and how much was actual desire.
Barb had alluded to some experiences with other women in college, though she had always turned evasive when Stan had probed for details. But he was pretty sure that, while she may have been acting to some extent during their sting operation in his son’s barn, Barb had taken real pleasure in playing with the other women before she had let herself be hung.
Real or acted, there was no denying that when Tina got on top of Barb and they began rubbing their bodies together, breast pressing against breast and mound against mound, it was damned hot. Despite facing imminent death, Stan felt his arousal growing. Glancing around at the other men staring slack-jawed at the two women, he could see that he was far from alone in that sentiment.
Stan also couldn’t help noticing that despite her initial distaste and anger at Barb, Tina was getting into it as well. She was kissing Barb’s breasts and rubbing her vagina just as actively against Barb’s as Barb was rubbing against hers. They both looked lost in a dream world, approaching their orgasms.
Stan was a bit taken aback when Max broke the spell by demanding that Tina strap on a dildo. He would have preferred that they continue grinding their pussies together, but he wasn’t directing this little piece of cinema.
Then, just as Tina was about to enter Barb, as he had done so many times, Stan noticed that Barb was staring right at him. He looked around. All eyes were on the girls, so he took a chance-he wriggled his right hand free of the rope and held it up, winking at her. She winked back, to indicate that she had seen his demonstration, then turned her attention to Tina, who slid the hard rubber inside her and began pounding away.
Despite, or perhaps because of the cheering crowd, Barb really seemed to be enjoying things. She was moaning and gasping and clawing at Tina’s ass, urging the girl to stick the rubber penis in deeper. Soon, she shouted out her pleasure just as she had done so often with him, if not perhaps, even a bit louder, though it was hard to compare this small space sheathed in metal bulkheads with their bedroom or even their basement at home.
Then, they switched places, Barb strapping on the dildo, Tina lying back expectantly waiting to take her pleasure. Stan felt the gun barrel drop from his temple as the goon holding the pistol moved forward to get a better view of the action. He could see that the man was holding the pistol very loosely in one hand, right at the level of Stan’s eyes as Stan knelt beside him, as his other hand rubbed the evident bulge in his trousers.
Stan knew that he would get only one chance. Just grabbing the gun wouldn’t be sufficient, since he was greatly outnumbered. He would have to not only grab the gun, but somehow use it to threaten the one person in here who truly mattered-Alex. He could see Alex standing a few places away from him, as entranced as anyone by the show Barb and Tina were putting on.
Stan slipped his right hand out of the rope, though he kept it behind him so no one would see that he had freed himself. Tina was moaning and panting, her body tensing as her orgasm approached. Stan brought his hand up, slowly approaching the hand of the crewman who was holding his pistol so loosely as he reveled in the spectacle.
Suddenly, a crewman burst in through the door that led to the gangway to the deck. All eyes turned towards him. “Helicopters overhead ... Captain says all hands on deck!” he shouted.
It was now or never and Stan had nothing to lose. In one quick motion, just as he had practiced countless times in training session during his years on the force, he grabbed the gun from the startled crewman with his right hand, while pushing the man to the floor with his left.
Fired by an adrenaline rush, Stan was on his feet and next to Alex in a second, the gun pressed to the mobster’s temple. Stan pulled Alex back so that Stan’s back was against the steel bulkhead, Alex in front of him as a shield. Max, Sergei and Pavel were staring in shock at them. Max raised his gun, pointing it at Barb, who was lying on the floor, still entangled with her look-alike.
“Don’t be an idiot, Goldman,” Max sneered. “You have three seconds to let him go or your girlfriend gets it. One, two.”
Stan felt his hand trembling. He couldn’t bear to see Barb shot after all her suffering. But he knew that if he let Alex go, they would kill him and hold Barb and hold the girls hostage against whatever law enforcement was up there. They might all die in a shootout at close quarters.
He steeled himself. “You even move a finger, Max, and your boss’s brains will be spattered from here to Montauk,” Stan said as forcefully as he could. He could hear the choppers now, hovering overhead.
Stan felt Alex squirming. This was a man who might have once been a hands-on thug himself, but who, Stan guessed, had for many years lived in a world of secret bank accounts, luxury apartments and beachfront mansions and dinners populated by celebrities from both sides of the ocean. Like Saddam Hussein or Qaddafi or other fallen dictators, when finally captured, he was not the type to show great personal courage.
“No, Max,” Alex said. “Put the gun down. The rest of you, too. We had a good run, but the game is up.” Pavel and Sergei looked at Max. Max sighed, stooped down and laid his gun on the floor. The others shrugged and followed suit.
It was a faint thing to hang one’s life on, to be sure, but Stan took it as a modest glimmer of hope that they had given him clothes to wear. These thugs weren’t the type to throw good clothing overboard, were they? Of course, he could see that the T shirt had several holes and the jeans had oil stains all down the front of both legs. Realistically, he guessed that they were likely castoffs from one of the Third World crew members who toiled in the engine room keeping the decrepit engines running long enough to deliver their “cargo”-Barb and the other girls- to their lives of sexual slavery and would be no more missed by Alex and his gang than Stan himself would be.
Hating himself for it, Stan couldn’t help looking at Barb and Tina. The resemblance was amazing, particularly since Barb looked young for her age. If not exactly twins, they could easily pass for sisters. He knew from his days of perusing porn sites that seeing twins (which his head knew were just actresses who resembled each other, though his cock might disagree) making lesbian love to each other and then, perhaps, being taken by a guy or a couple of guys was a very common fantasy. It certainly appealed to him, and, judging by their reactions, it appealed to the thugs and crew members as well.
As one of the crew pulled Stan’s hands behind him and began tying them, Stan watched Max pour the oil on his hands and approach Barb. The thought of that thug rubbing his hands all over her made Stan want to puke, even more than the tossing of the ship and the smell of the diesel fuel did. But when Max asked for a volunteer to oil Tina, he was surprised to see the crewman who was tying his hands rush up to volunteer for that more interesting task before properly finishing his assigned job.
Stan tested the bonds and, to his amazement and relief, found them loose. Carefully, making sure that no one was watching him, he held the ropes steady with his left hand and began working his right hand free. He needn’t have worried-every eye was fixed on the girls’ shiny bodies.
Tina was staring at Barb with undisguised hatred. Stan knew that she blamed Barb for her predicament-after all the goons had selected her because of the resemblance, though that was hardly Barb’s fault.
Barb, for her part, looked defiant. “Neither of us really want to do this. We refuse!” she spat.
‘Good for you!’ Stan thought. That was the Barb he knew!
Then Alex ordered, “Bring lover boy over here and put a gun to his head.” That, of course, was also the Barb that Stan knew, the one who had gotten him into this situation in the first place despite his warnings. And Stan had little reason to think, now that they were at sea, that they would hesitate to kill him.
He quickly slid his right hand back into the loop in the ropes as the two goons grabbed him and pulled him to front of the circle of men and forced him to his knees. One of them placed a pistol against Stan’s temple, the metal cold and greasy against his skin.
Stan breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Barb slither over to Tina and kiss her full on the lips. He wondered how much on her part was simply acquiescing to keep the thugs from shooting him on the spot and how much was actual desire.
Barb had alluded to some experiences with other women in college, though she had always turned evasive when Stan had probed for details. But he was pretty sure that, while she may have been acting to some extent during their sting operation in his son’s barn, Barb had taken real pleasure in playing with the other women before she had let herself be hung.
Real or acted, there was no denying that when Tina got on top of Barb and they began rubbing their bodies together, breast pressing against breast and mound against mound, it was damned hot. Despite facing imminent death, Stan felt his arousal growing. Glancing around at the other men staring slack-jawed at the two women, he could see that he was far from alone in that sentiment.
Stan also couldn’t help noticing that despite her initial distaste and anger at Barb, Tina was getting into it as well. She was kissing Barb’s breasts and rubbing her vagina just as actively against Barb’s as Barb was rubbing against hers. They both looked lost in a dream world, approaching their orgasms.
Stan was a bit taken aback when Max broke the spell by demanding that Tina strap on a dildo. He would have preferred that they continue grinding their pussies together, but he wasn’t directing this little piece of cinema.
Then, just as Tina was about to enter Barb, as he had done so many times, Stan noticed that Barb was staring right at him. He looked around. All eyes were on the girls, so he took a chance-he wriggled his right hand free of the rope and held it up, winking at her. She winked back, to indicate that she had seen his demonstration, then turned her attention to Tina, who slid the hard rubber inside her and began pounding away.
Despite, or perhaps because of the cheering crowd, Barb really seemed to be enjoying things. She was moaning and gasping and clawing at Tina’s ass, urging the girl to stick the rubber penis in deeper. Soon, she shouted out her pleasure just as she had done so often with him, if not perhaps, even a bit louder, though it was hard to compare this small space sheathed in metal bulkheads with their bedroom or even their basement at home.
Then, they switched places, Barb strapping on the dildo, Tina lying back expectantly waiting to take her pleasure. Stan felt the gun barrel drop from his temple as the goon holding the pistol moved forward to get a better view of the action. He could see that the man was holding the pistol very loosely in one hand, right at the level of Stan’s eyes as Stan knelt beside him, as his other hand rubbed the evident bulge in his trousers.
Stan knew that he would get only one chance. Just grabbing the gun wouldn’t be sufficient, since he was greatly outnumbered. He would have to not only grab the gun, but somehow use it to threaten the one person in here who truly mattered-Alex. He could see Alex standing a few places away from him, as entranced as anyone by the show Barb and Tina were putting on.
Stan slipped his right hand out of the rope, though he kept it behind him so no one would see that he had freed himself. Tina was moaning and panting, her body tensing as her orgasm approached. Stan brought his hand up, slowly approaching the hand of the crewman who was holding his pistol so loosely as he reveled in the spectacle.
Suddenly, a crewman burst in through the door that led to the gangway to the deck. All eyes turned towards him. “Helicopters overhead ... Captain says all hands on deck!” he shouted.
It was now or never and Stan had nothing to lose. In one quick motion, just as he had practiced countless times in training session during his years on the force, he grabbed the gun from the startled crewman with his right hand, while pushing the man to the floor with his left.
Fired by an adrenaline rush, Stan was on his feet and next to Alex in a second, the gun pressed to the mobster’s temple. Stan pulled Alex back so that Stan’s back was against the steel bulkhead, Alex in front of him as a shield. Max, Sergei and Pavel were staring in shock at them. Max raised his gun, pointing it at Barb, who was lying on the floor, still entangled with her look-alike.
“Don’t be an idiot, Goldman,” Max sneered. “You have three seconds to let him go or your girlfriend gets it. One, two.”
Stan felt his hand trembling. He couldn’t bear to see Barb shot after all her suffering. But he knew that if he let Alex go, they would kill him and hold Barb and hold the girls hostage against whatever law enforcement was up there. They might all die in a shootout at close quarters.
He steeled himself. “You even move a finger, Max, and your boss’s brains will be spattered from here to Montauk,” Stan said as forcefully as he could. He could hear the choppers now, hovering overhead.
Stan felt Alex squirming. This was a man who might have once been a hands-on thug himself, but who, Stan guessed, had for many years lived in a world of secret bank accounts, luxury apartments and beachfront mansions and dinners populated by celebrities from both sides of the ocean. Like Saddam Hussein or Qaddafi or other fallen dictators, when finally captured, he was not the type to show great personal courage.
“No, Max,” Alex said. “Put the gun down. The rest of you, too. We had a good run, but the game is up.” Pavel and Sergei looked at Max. Max sighed, stooped down and laid his gun on the floor. The others shrugged and followed suit.
Heroics aren't much fun when you're naked, right?
Figures ....
I'll never tell ...
Like I said, I'll never tell ...
Then, they switched places, Barb strapping on the dildo, Tina lying back expectantly waiting to take her pleasure. Stan felt the gun barrel drop from his temple as the goon holding the pistol moved forward to get a better view of the action. He could see that the man was holding the pistol very loosely in one hand, right at the level of Stan’s eyes as Stan knelt beside him, as his other hand rubbed the evident bulge in his trousers.
Now is your chance Stan ... move damnit ... this will be over quickly ... go for it!!!!!
My hero ....
windar
Teller of Tales
Not even when I attach the wires to your you know what? That's been known to work on you.
You have complained about that with me too. Nice to know it's a general problem.
Once again
connoisseurs
Senator
Let's get nice and shiny for the viewers.
What!!? The Double Barb show ends before it starts.
Even if you get out of this, you'll never think of pleasuring yourself the same way again.
Now that's worth a real orgasm!
Some people see bright lights or colours when they cum. Helicopters is a new one.
Great and extremely sexy chapter, Barb!
Then I must have been at some wild parties all through grad school.Best parties are the ones we can't remember
Tricky situation.
STANDING BY...
I'M SURE I'M WAITING AROUND HERE FOR SOMEONE...BUT WHO?
THESE PEOPLE ARE NO FUN ANYMORE.
windar
Teller of Tales
23.
Stan took a long sip of his bourbon and put his arm around Barb, pulling her close. She took a sip of her Riesling. They gazed out across the valley, watching the shadows lengthen as the sun sank behind the mountains at their back and the lights in the houses below near the river came on one by one.
“I would have bet a lot of money that I’d never see this place again,” he said.
“Same here,” Barb added. “I don’t know whose fate would have been worse.”
“It’s hard to imagine you as the sex slave of some potentate, maybe part of a harem with God knows how many others.”
“I know you, Stan,” Barb said, “You’re imagining YOU’RE the potentate, deciding which woman or group of women from the harem you want tonight.”
“I am not,” he replied.
“Yeah, right,” Barb said, laughing.
“OK, maybe just a tiny bit,” Stan admitted. Barb punched him in the arm. “Ow!” Stan yelled.
“But, seriously,” he continued, “I wonder if you would have kept your fighting spirit, no matter what punishments they dished out, or would you have eventually submitted?”
“It’s hard to say,” Barb replied. “No one really knows how they would act until they’re actually faced with the situation for real. I suspect Alex’s client wanted me because he figured it would be a challenge to break me. I’m guessing he had a whole array of punishments planned.”
“You’re probably right,” Stan allowed. “And hopefully you would have made him use them all.”
Barb shrugged. “I was disappointed in myself for how quickly I broke under those electroshocks and gave them my bank info. But the pain was so awful and I knew they’d just go on and on and I’d give in in the end. So who knows what would have happened if they’d have delivered their cargo.”
“You still did better than me,” Stan replied.
Barb laughed. “Yeah, what a wimp, Goldman!”
“No argument here,” Stan replied. “Even the little bit they gave me hurt like hell. But it’s good that the publishers think this book could sell even better than the crucifixion book, so we should make it all back with interest. Apparently, books about Russian bad guys are in these days.”
“I know,” Barb said, “But I don’t care what they say and how many books they think it will sell, we are not doing a book tour in Russia. No way, Goldman!”
“Hey, I’m with you there, Moore. I don’t care what delights one can experience in a Moscow hotel room.” Barb shook her head.
“Speaking of delights,” Stan continued. “You still haven’t told me about your experiences with girls in college.”
Barb turned and looked at him, shaking her head. “What’s to tell? I was young and I explored what there was to explore. It’s not news to you that I like women as well as men. You saw me with those women in the barn and with Tina.”
Stan grinned. “I did. And it was hot!”
Barb glared at him. “I don’t do it just to entertain a dirty old goat like you, Goldman. It feels good. Women know just the right way to please each other.”
“And I don’t?” Stan asked, pretending to be insulted.
Barb smiled. “Sometimes you do. But variety is the spice of life.”
“Did you ever do a threesome with another girl and a guy?” he asked.
“That’s every guy’s dream, isn’t it?” she asked. Stan nodded vigorously. “Well, you’ll just have to die wondering, Goldman. I have to have some secrets.”
“I bet I could get it out of you running some current through your pussy,” he said.
She punched his arm, harder this time and started getting to her feet. Stan pulled her back down. “I’m just kidding, Barb,” he said, serious now. “Play is one thing, but you know I would never hurt you like that.”
Barb sat again and took a large sip of her wine. “I can’t help thinking of all those other girls, the ones Alex and his thugs sent into slavery before we got them. It just doesn’t seem like Kantner and the other green eyeshade types are getting very far in finding them.”
Stan nodded. “It isn’t easy. With encypted messages and cryptocurrency transactions there are a lot of layers to dig through. Reggie says the Feds have asked the NSA for help. But, even if we find the buyers, putting pressure on their governments is tough. There’s oil and other interests involved.”
“I heard they offered Alex some leeway on his sentence if he gives them names,” Barb said. “But I’m not sure even he knows their real identities.”
“Yeah, I’m sure these buyers know how to cover their tracks also,” Stan said.
Barb had a faraway look in her eyes, “Still, Stan, I wonder what a couple of smart cops with experience in this type of case could find out if they went over there and looked around.”
Stan yanked his arm away from Barb’s shoulders. “Don’t even think about it Moore! Your amateur sleuthing came this close to getting me killed and you enslaved. That part of our life is over for good. Done! Finished!”
Barb smiled. “I know Stan, I was only teasing.”
Stan glared down at her. “You have a lot of nerve even teasing about such a subject, Moore. Downstairs! Now! Let’s go!”
“Come on, Goldman, don’t be an ass,” she whined.
“I’m not the one proposing half-assed expeditions to Outer Slobovistan or wherever to chase down girls who may not even be alive any more. No, that would be you, Moore. Now on your feet!”
Barb stuck her tongue out at him, but, reluctantly, got to her feet and made her way into the house. She paused at the door to the basement. “Don’t forget to arm the alarm system, Goldman.” Stan stopped to enter the code into the keypad before following her tight little down the stairs.
Barb kicked her shoes off at the bottom of the stairs. “So kind of you to spring for a carpet down here finally, Stan.” He smiled, watching as she removed her shirt and wriggled out of her jeans and panties, shaking her ass at him. He already felt a swelling in his groin.
“Where do you want me, boss?” Barb asked.
“Nice to see you being respectful for a change, Moore,” he replied. “Over the vaulting horse, my dear. Just like our Russian friends seemed to enjoy.”
Barb strode saucily to the vaulting horse and with an exaggerated motion bent over. Stan had to admit he could never get enough of those succulent globes and the lovely pussy crease below them. He went to the antique cabinet and selected a cane-thin and whippy it would make an impression on Barb’s hindquarters but wouldn’t leave her sore for more than a day or so afterwards.
“A dozen seems fair for a start, wouldn’t you say, Barb?”
He could hear her sigh. “Sure, whatever you say,” she said, resignedly.
Stan tapped the cane a couple of times against Barb’s cheeks then drew it back and whipped it dead center across her bottom. It made a satisfying “Whack!” Stan felt the soft flesh yield to the hard rattan before it bounced back. He watched the pair of raised lines rise on her skin and heard the sharp intake of breath.
He struck again, just below the first one. “Shit!” Barb muttered as a second set of lines sprung up as the first set darkened to a deep red. The third stroke brought a shouted “Owww!!” Barb shifted from foot to foot, trying to manage the pain. Stan quickly delivered three more strokes. Barb was moaning and sobbing by the time he paused.
Stan laid the cane down on the carpet and came behind Barb. He ran his hands lightly over the welts on her tight little, feeling the heat of the ridged skin. She squirmed-even that light touch was painful- and turned to look at him. “Bastard!” she spat.
Stan was very aroused from watching her dance of suffering. Normally he might have simply taken her from behind, but the memory of her taking him into her mouth at the behest of their captors, a sacrifice that allowed him to be here savoring this moment together came back to him.
He went around to the front of the vaulting horse and helped her stand. “You remember how you went down on me in the basement of that awful house?” Barb looked at him, a few tears trickling down her face. She nodded.
“If you do that to me now, I’ll let you off the rest,” Stan said.
Barb made a face, “You know I hate that.”
“I know, but I think having to do that will be a very good reminder of the risks that your unauthorized capers entail. Better than another six on your tight little and you’ll be able to sit at breakfast tomorrow.”
“Geez, Goldman, you’re always thinking of others.”
Stan smiled. “That’s me, Moore.”
“I’ll tell you what, though,” Barb said. “I don’t want you pushing my head down. That’s too much like what I experienced with those thugs. I want you tied to the St. Andrew’s cross and leave me in control. Are you man enough to do that, Goldman?”
Stan took this as a challenge, one he knew he shouldn’t wimp out on. He began undressing. Once he was naked, Barb led him to the cross bolted firmly to the wall. She knelt, spread his feet apart and strapped his ankles to the bottom of the two beams. Then she stood on a chair and fastened his arms, spread wide, over his head.
“OK, Stan, prepare to have your mind blown,” Barb said as she knelt in front of him.
“I was thinking you’d blow something else.”
“That, too,” Barb said as she took his erection inside her mouth, licking around the head gently, then sliding it deeper inside, before taking it out and running her tongue over the sensitive ridge underneath.
Stan was panting, moaning, “Don’t stop, Barb, please. Oh, God.”
She took it back in her mouth. He was right on the verge, the point where perhaps one more lick would put him over the edge. Was she really going to let him explode in her mouth?
Then she pulled her head back. The air felt cool on Stan’s erection after the heat of Barb’s mouth. She looked around. “Shit, it’s almost time for M*A*S*H! You don’t mind waiting just a bit until it’s over, Stan, do you?” She turned and headed for the stairs.
Stan took a long sip of his bourbon and put his arm around Barb, pulling her close. She took a sip of her Riesling. They gazed out across the valley, watching the shadows lengthen as the sun sank behind the mountains at their back and the lights in the houses below near the river came on one by one.
“I would have bet a lot of money that I’d never see this place again,” he said.
“Same here,” Barb added. “I don’t know whose fate would have been worse.”
“It’s hard to imagine you as the sex slave of some potentate, maybe part of a harem with God knows how many others.”
“I know you, Stan,” Barb said, “You’re imagining YOU’RE the potentate, deciding which woman or group of women from the harem you want tonight.”
“I am not,” he replied.
“Yeah, right,” Barb said, laughing.
“OK, maybe just a tiny bit,” Stan admitted. Barb punched him in the arm. “Ow!” Stan yelled.
“But, seriously,” he continued, “I wonder if you would have kept your fighting spirit, no matter what punishments they dished out, or would you have eventually submitted?”
“It’s hard to say,” Barb replied. “No one really knows how they would act until they’re actually faced with the situation for real. I suspect Alex’s client wanted me because he figured it would be a challenge to break me. I’m guessing he had a whole array of punishments planned.”
“You’re probably right,” Stan allowed. “And hopefully you would have made him use them all.”
Barb shrugged. “I was disappointed in myself for how quickly I broke under those electroshocks and gave them my bank info. But the pain was so awful and I knew they’d just go on and on and I’d give in in the end. So who knows what would have happened if they’d have delivered their cargo.”
“You still did better than me,” Stan replied.
Barb laughed. “Yeah, what a wimp, Goldman!”
“No argument here,” Stan replied. “Even the little bit they gave me hurt like hell. But it’s good that the publishers think this book could sell even better than the crucifixion book, so we should make it all back with interest. Apparently, books about Russian bad guys are in these days.”
“I know,” Barb said, “But I don’t care what they say and how many books they think it will sell, we are not doing a book tour in Russia. No way, Goldman!”
“Hey, I’m with you there, Moore. I don’t care what delights one can experience in a Moscow hotel room.” Barb shook her head.
“Speaking of delights,” Stan continued. “You still haven’t told me about your experiences with girls in college.”
Barb turned and looked at him, shaking her head. “What’s to tell? I was young and I explored what there was to explore. It’s not news to you that I like women as well as men. You saw me with those women in the barn and with Tina.”
Stan grinned. “I did. And it was hot!”
Barb glared at him. “I don’t do it just to entertain a dirty old goat like you, Goldman. It feels good. Women know just the right way to please each other.”
“And I don’t?” Stan asked, pretending to be insulted.
Barb smiled. “Sometimes you do. But variety is the spice of life.”
“Did you ever do a threesome with another girl and a guy?” he asked.
“That’s every guy’s dream, isn’t it?” she asked. Stan nodded vigorously. “Well, you’ll just have to die wondering, Goldman. I have to have some secrets.”
“I bet I could get it out of you running some current through your pussy,” he said.
She punched his arm, harder this time and started getting to her feet. Stan pulled her back down. “I’m just kidding, Barb,” he said, serious now. “Play is one thing, but you know I would never hurt you like that.”
Barb sat again and took a large sip of her wine. “I can’t help thinking of all those other girls, the ones Alex and his thugs sent into slavery before we got them. It just doesn’t seem like Kantner and the other green eyeshade types are getting very far in finding them.”
Stan nodded. “It isn’t easy. With encypted messages and cryptocurrency transactions there are a lot of layers to dig through. Reggie says the Feds have asked the NSA for help. But, even if we find the buyers, putting pressure on their governments is tough. There’s oil and other interests involved.”
“I heard they offered Alex some leeway on his sentence if he gives them names,” Barb said. “But I’m not sure even he knows their real identities.”
“Yeah, I’m sure these buyers know how to cover their tracks also,” Stan said.
Barb had a faraway look in her eyes, “Still, Stan, I wonder what a couple of smart cops with experience in this type of case could find out if they went over there and looked around.”
Stan yanked his arm away from Barb’s shoulders. “Don’t even think about it Moore! Your amateur sleuthing came this close to getting me killed and you enslaved. That part of our life is over for good. Done! Finished!”
Barb smiled. “I know Stan, I was only teasing.”
Stan glared down at her. “You have a lot of nerve even teasing about such a subject, Moore. Downstairs! Now! Let’s go!”
“Come on, Goldman, don’t be an ass,” she whined.
“I’m not the one proposing half-assed expeditions to Outer Slobovistan or wherever to chase down girls who may not even be alive any more. No, that would be you, Moore. Now on your feet!”
Barb stuck her tongue out at him, but, reluctantly, got to her feet and made her way into the house. She paused at the door to the basement. “Don’t forget to arm the alarm system, Goldman.” Stan stopped to enter the code into the keypad before following her tight little down the stairs.
Barb kicked her shoes off at the bottom of the stairs. “So kind of you to spring for a carpet down here finally, Stan.” He smiled, watching as she removed her shirt and wriggled out of her jeans and panties, shaking her ass at him. He already felt a swelling in his groin.
“Where do you want me, boss?” Barb asked.
“Nice to see you being respectful for a change, Moore,” he replied. “Over the vaulting horse, my dear. Just like our Russian friends seemed to enjoy.”
Barb strode saucily to the vaulting horse and with an exaggerated motion bent over. Stan had to admit he could never get enough of those succulent globes and the lovely pussy crease below them. He went to the antique cabinet and selected a cane-thin and whippy it would make an impression on Barb’s hindquarters but wouldn’t leave her sore for more than a day or so afterwards.
“A dozen seems fair for a start, wouldn’t you say, Barb?”
He could hear her sigh. “Sure, whatever you say,” she said, resignedly.
Stan tapped the cane a couple of times against Barb’s cheeks then drew it back and whipped it dead center across her bottom. It made a satisfying “Whack!” Stan felt the soft flesh yield to the hard rattan before it bounced back. He watched the pair of raised lines rise on her skin and heard the sharp intake of breath.
He struck again, just below the first one. “Shit!” Barb muttered as a second set of lines sprung up as the first set darkened to a deep red. The third stroke brought a shouted “Owww!!” Barb shifted from foot to foot, trying to manage the pain. Stan quickly delivered three more strokes. Barb was moaning and sobbing by the time he paused.
Stan laid the cane down on the carpet and came behind Barb. He ran his hands lightly over the welts on her tight little, feeling the heat of the ridged skin. She squirmed-even that light touch was painful- and turned to look at him. “Bastard!” she spat.
Stan was very aroused from watching her dance of suffering. Normally he might have simply taken her from behind, but the memory of her taking him into her mouth at the behest of their captors, a sacrifice that allowed him to be here savoring this moment together came back to him.
He went around to the front of the vaulting horse and helped her stand. “You remember how you went down on me in the basement of that awful house?” Barb looked at him, a few tears trickling down her face. She nodded.
“If you do that to me now, I’ll let you off the rest,” Stan said.
Barb made a face, “You know I hate that.”
“I know, but I think having to do that will be a very good reminder of the risks that your unauthorized capers entail. Better than another six on your tight little and you’ll be able to sit at breakfast tomorrow.”
“Geez, Goldman, you’re always thinking of others.”
Stan smiled. “That’s me, Moore.”
“I’ll tell you what, though,” Barb said. “I don’t want you pushing my head down. That’s too much like what I experienced with those thugs. I want you tied to the St. Andrew’s cross and leave me in control. Are you man enough to do that, Goldman?”
Stan took this as a challenge, one he knew he shouldn’t wimp out on. He began undressing. Once he was naked, Barb led him to the cross bolted firmly to the wall. She knelt, spread his feet apart and strapped his ankles to the bottom of the two beams. Then she stood on a chair and fastened his arms, spread wide, over his head.
“OK, Stan, prepare to have your mind blown,” Barb said as she knelt in front of him.
“I was thinking you’d blow something else.”
“That, too,” Barb said as she took his erection inside her mouth, licking around the head gently, then sliding it deeper inside, before taking it out and running her tongue over the sensitive ridge underneath.
Stan was panting, moaning, “Don’t stop, Barb, please. Oh, God.”
She took it back in her mouth. He was right on the verge, the point where perhaps one more lick would put him over the edge. Was she really going to let him explode in her mouth?
Then she pulled her head back. The air felt cool on Stan’s erection after the heat of Barb’s mouth. She looked around. “Shit, it’s almost time for M*A*S*H! You don’t mind waiting just a bit until it’s over, Stan, do you?” She turned and headed for the stairs.
THE END
windar
Teller of Tales
And that, dear readers, is the end of this tale. Will Stan and Barb really retire for good now, chastened by their misadventures? Or will Barb insist on going to Outer Slobovistan to find those missing girls and will Stan feel compelled, despite his better judgement to follow her (Stan in Slobovistan would be a hell of a title)? Or will something completely unforeseen happen?
Whatever the case, we thank you for reading and for your many comments. And let's have a hand for Madi and his wonderful illustrations!
Whatever the case, we thank you for reading and for your many comments. And let's have a hand for Madi and his wonderful illustrations!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Barb, ever the tease!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Now for downloading in the libary:
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/crux-forums-e-book-library.4744/page-18
and archive:
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/resour...barbaria-windar-illustrations-by-madiosi.648/
Enjoy it!
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/threads/crux-forums-e-book-library.4744/page-18
and archive:
http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/resour...barbaria-windar-illustrations-by-madiosi.648/
Enjoy it!
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“I know you, Stan,” Barb said, “You’re imagining YOU’RE the potentate, deciding which woman or group of women from the harem you want tonight.”
Goldman has a vivid imagination ...
Goldman has a poor memory ...
Goldman has no idea how many episodes I intend to watch before I return ...
windar
Teller of Tales
The DVD box set with all 11 seasons that I got you for your birthday? You wouldn't dare, Moore!@!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
She might even watch the un-watchable two hour finale!
The DVD box set with all 11 seasons that I got you for your birthday? You wouldn't dare, Moore!@!
He he he
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Kipling -He he he
Man's timid heart is bursting with the things he must not say, (for fear of demerits)
For the Woman that God gave him isn't his to give away; (how true)
But when hunter meets with husbands, each confirms the other's tale— (There's no denying it!)
The female of the species is more deadly than the male.