Chapter 7
Perhaps, in order for the Barbers to have come into existence at all, the members of the club had to have basically similar hang-ups; a need to inflict themselves-but not necessarily sadistically- upon a woman unable to defend herself.
And it might have been called coincidence that all three of them, Lee Havens, Art Belden, and Mack Spain, fell into that category. But not coincidental, really, because in essence, they were three similar characters unconsciously hunting for each other. Each of them had probably turned away from many possibly kindred souls until they finally found each other.
Art Belden, like Lee Havens, expanded his hang-up through much meditation upon an adventure in his early life. That way he expanded it, through contemplation, far beyond its original pattern of erotic delight.
Art, who had led a rather secluded and protected life into his early twenties, had the emotional development of an adolescent at the time, together with an adult body. He had not even indulged in masturbation through fear of a straight-laced mother and a father who seldom even smiled at his son.
He was born and raised on a small ranch in a thinly-populated western state and did not achieve freedom through leaving home for college until he was well into his twenties. So it was a long way from the secluded ranch to the complex where he now worked for Farnwell.
But that shattering incident remained bright in his memory; bright to the point where he could lie in bed, relive it, and achieve an erection and an orgasm without touching himself.
The setting, reshaping it, was as important in the overall recreation as the incident itself. So in his reliving of it, he always started at the beginning: Having guests at the place was something very exceptional. But having a woman guest-well that was unheard of, so when Belle Conway came to visit Mom, it was a real occasion.
She hit me the first moment I saw her. A big, generously proportioned girl around thirty-five years old, she'd gone to college with Mom, and they'd stayed friends. She was younger than Mom by about five years, but a hell of a lot younger than that physically. Tall and slim enough, with big boobs that gave me a hard-on time after time when she was around the place; that was the way she stacked up.
She wore jodhpurs most of the time-tight riding pants she was poured into. They outlined her beautiful thighs, and when she stood a certain way, you could see the split of her cunt against the tight cloth. She drove me kind of crazy, and I know damn well that a couple of times when we went riding, she brought herself off by rubbing her cunt against saddle leather and let the rhythm of the horse blow her.
Anyhow, there was this fishing trip she wanted to go on. And because visitors were so rare, Dad took a few days off and the four of us, Mom and Dad, Belle and I, got into the car with camping stuff and drove two hundred miles up into rough country and camped beside Cascade Creek, the best trout stream in the whole west.
Nothing happened the first two days except we had a hell of a good time; nothing except she kept me on edge by just being there and when she dressed and undressed and things like that, I kept trying to get a gander at her cunt. I'd never seen one, and it was driving me crazy.
Once, when she went downstream to bathe, I followed. I didn't get very close, because I was scared as hell at what would happen if Dad or Mom caught me, but I did see her naked, and I was close enough to see that big patch of black hair at the base of her belly.
Just that alone made me come, and I had to get my cock out fast to keep it from going all over my pants.
But then on the third morning, some plans were made. Mom was a camera bug, of course, and she wanted some shots of a wild grotto Dad knew about some ten miles upstream. So they started out about eight o'clock. Belle wanted to lie around and relax that day, and I took my rod and went down the Cascade about a mile where there was a good trout hole.
On the way down I met those two men, expert fishermen with their dry flies and their reels and the way they went after a fish when it revealed itself by striking. Pros, they were. Real pros.
But tough and unfriendly. They grunted surly helloes as I passed them and seemed annoyed that I was even in the vicinity.
When they got out of sight, I began to wonder about them.
Thinking about them made me lose interest in fishing, so I quit and followed them back toward our camp. My guardian angel must have staged the whole thing for me because it was so perfect. When I got there, they'd evidently seen Belle, and I figured they'd probably talked it over between themselves-whether to ask her point blank if she wanted to be fucked or have it taken away from her.
They decided on the latter, and they also decided to do it the safe way because when I looked out through some bushes, one of them was sneaking up behind her on tiptoe while the other watched from behind our tent.
Belle was sitting on a blanket cross-legged, reading a book. The man was carrying a small cloth sack they must have been using to lug supplies, but now it was empty, and the man dropped it over Belle's head, covering her face before she even knew they were in the neighborhood.
She began to fight instantly, but the other man ran over then, and they subdued her, one of them pulling the bag tight around her neck so that her whole head was literally in the bag.
My own reactions-well, I don't want to go into that except to say I was excited as hell. And scared, too. But as it turned out, they weren't there to hurt Belle-they only wanted to fuck her, and while they weren't cruel, they weren't exactly gentle either.
They got her to her feet and pulled her toward the tent. I could hear her gibbering and protesting under the sack, but she could get enough air so she wouldn't smother. The men had checked that carefully before they started making arrangements to take it away from her.
They hauled her toward the tent and inside, and I didn't know what was going on in there except that Belle wasn't giving in easily. The tent walls bulged a couple of times. Then it quieted down and one of the men came out.
But only one.
He waited beside the tent with a grin on his face. He had a hard-on. I could see it bulging against his pants, and he made a gesture toward taking his cock out, but he didn't.
Both of us were listening to what went on inside. Obviously the man inside was trying to fuck her, and she was fighting him.
I heard him growl, "Hold still, damn you. You're going to get it so why don't you relax and enjoy it?"
She howled so loud you could hear it through the sack. "You slimy son of a bitch! Leave me alone!"
There were some grunts and moans, and then she howled again. "Ouch! Ooowwww! It hurts! Take it out of me! Goddamn you! Your cock's too big!"
Lying there, excited so I could hardly breathe, it still occurred to me that Belle was more earthy than Mom. If it had been Mom in there getting it, she would have still used polite words. I don't think even being raped would have made Mom yell out: "What the hell! Have you got it up my ass?"
The guy inside laughed at that and said, "No, sweetie but your cunt is just as tight. You haven't had any lately, have you?"
There was the sound of flesh slapping against flesh now. I supposed it was the man's belly slapping against Belle's ass or gut, depending on which side she was lying on. Top or bottom.
Belle kept right on yelling, but she wasn't giving out with words now. Just moans and howls and grunts that coincided with the man's grunts on every in-stroke.
There finally came the sound of speeded-up rutting, and the man growled in savage satisfaction when his nuts finally came off.
I was beside myself from excitement. I could imagine his cock jerking inside Belle while he shot his load into her.
There was a short silence then, and the man came out of the tent, kind of staggering from weakness. He was putting his cock away, and there was a grin of satisfaction on his face.
The other man grinned back and said, "How is she?"
"Great. Just great. So tight shell skin your tool."
The other one laughed. "Unless you opened her up with that big rod of yours."
The second session, after the other man went into the tent, was pretty much like the first except that Belle yelled, "Jesus, not again! What are you, a bull or something?"
Then she caught on and bellowed, "Christ! It's another one. How many of you are there? How many fuckings do I have to take?"
The guy laughed back at her and said, "Baby? What's the difference? With that gash of yours you could take cocks all day and come up smiling."
He finished on about the same beat as his partner, but Belle quieted down a little. There were only a few moans. The guys were probably wearing her down, I thought. Taking two bull-sized loads one after another from those studs would have worn any woman down.
So she'd been thoroughly fucked when the second guy came out. The first one had put his prick away inside the tent, but the second one came out with it in plain sight, still dripping come.
He wiped it off and put it away, and something odd happened to me when I saw it. A thrill or a scare, I didn't know which, except it made me think that maybe I had homo tendencies. I guess not, because after I left home, I was fucked once, but I didn't like it.
But anyhow, lying there in the bushes, looking at that man's prick, my asshole tightened up automatically. I didn't know and I don't know to this day: Was I scared of that cock, or did I really want it rammed into me?
But then the two men walked away from the tent and talked things over. Evidently, they were one-shot guys, because neither wanted seconds.
One of them said, "What'll we do with her now?"
"Nothing."
"What do you mean, nothing?"
"Just what I said. We walk away."
"And leave her like that?"
"Why not? She's not up here alone. Shell have friends to come and let her loose."
"What about that kid we saw?"
"He was no kid."
"Don't quibble. What about him? He saw us."
"So he saw us. What do you want to do? Run him down and kill him?"
"Don't be silly."
"In the first place, we don't even know he's connected with this camp-out. And if he is, so what? We get the hell out of here. We get long-gone. We had some fun, and that's that."
They began walking away, the one who'd worried more reassured now.
The last thing I heard him say was, "Look. Maybe when whoever is with that woman comes back and sees her like that, she'll get fucked again."
They laughed and disappeared out of my life.
My first thought was to rush into the tent and release Belle. But when I got there, it was all different. God I What a sight for a guy who'd never seen a cunt in his life. They'd put her down on her belly with her arms extended and tied on either side to tent pegs. They'd stripped her totally naked, and there she was. Her legs were almost together, but the first thing I saw was black cunt hair between her legs and miming up her crack.
And I knew that I was going to fuck her if I died for it.
I took my cock out and dropped to my knees and pushed her legs apart. They'd taken most of the fight out of her, and all she did was whimper and cringe. She let me spread her legs without fighting too much and about all I can say is that I was enchanted.
Every muscle in my body was shaking, and all I could do was stare. My first cunt. It was lovely. She had thick, black hair, and now it was all wet and shiny from the two fuckings she'd taken, but it was beautiful.
I pushed her legs farther apart while all she did was cringe there and mutter into that bag over her head.
"Please! Not again. At least be kind to me."
I think I'd have dropped on her right then and there and given her a third screwing, but there was a complication. In my excitement, I'd lost my hard-on. I had my cock out, but it was limp, at half mast. Not soft, but it would have bent if I'd tried to shove it into her.
It hardly mattered, though, because I was having a hell of a time. A new experience. I had a woman down, tied up, and I was pushing her legs apart to look at her cunt. I'd never been so excited in my life.
As I spread her, the pink part of her gash opened and I could see it through the wet hair. It was just as beautiful as the rest of her. Long and pink and exciting. All the cream those two bulls had shot into her was oozing out now. It excited me no end.
I pushed her legs wider apart kneeling there like a worshipper before an altar, and there was her asshole exposed under my eyes.
I got the wildest, most ecstatic feeling I'd ever had. It was round and beautiful, short, dry hairs encircling it so I knew the two men hadn't buggered her or anything like that. Probably they hadn't been the least interested in her ass and I wasn't either, not in the sense of wanting to fuck her there.
It was psychological somehow, as though a woman's asshole is a more personal part of her than her cunt and looking at it is somehow more intimate.
It fascinated me. No doubt about that.
Propping her legs wide open with my knees, I reached down and touched her asshole with the tip of my finger.
She jerked and trembled, reacting like an unbroken filly from the first touch of the saddle. It tightened up, hard, and she moaned, "No! Please, no! Not in my ass!"
I felt sorry for her. I felt terribly sorry for her and wanted to reassure her, but I had the presence of mind not to do that. She had to think I was one of the two come back for seconds or a third one come in for his kicks.
But I resolved not to hurt her and even if my cock had been stiff I wouldn't have rammed it up her with the same brutality the other two used.
As it was, I decided to stay gentle above all, and I did. I ran the fight tip of my finger around her asshole, not shoving it in brutally or anything like that and gradually it began to loosen up.
It was a marvelous experience, gaining the confidence of a tied-down woman in this manner; playing with her gently, caressing her, until she began to loosen up; again like an unbroken filly who has learned that the touch of the saddle isn't such a terrible thing and nobody is going to kill her.
Belle loosened up to a point where I could have pushed my finger in, but I was a gentleman and didn't do it even though I was so terribly excited.
My prick didn't come up, but there was a delightful tickle through my whole belly, and the head of my cock was oozing pleasantly.
I suppose I should have been worried about my manhood, but I wasn't. There was too much else to enjoy. That big, soft, inviting asshole with the even short hairs that had bristled to protect it, getting softer now as though they trusted me.
Gently now, trying to show her I was a friend, I pushed my other hand between her legs up on her belly where the big, dry part of her bush was in the palm of my hand. I lifted gently, trying to tell her I was a friend, and all I wanted was for her to open her cunt wider for me.
And she responded! She actually did. Not much, but her legs opened a little more of then-own accord, and she came slightly up on her knees.
This opened her cunt some more, and I ran a light, gentle finger up its length. It was a long one, and the lips of her gash were long, exciting ridges covered with thick hair; this even if she did have a tight hole that caused her rapists difficulty.
She reacted a little to my finger, trembling, but not as scared now. She even opened her crack a little more for me. It was as though she were pleading: I'll show it to you, and you can play with it, but please don't hurt me. Do whatever you want with it, but be kind to me.
I was grateful for her confidence and bent over in rising excitement and ran my tongue the length of it from top to bottom. She tasted so good! There was the come those bulls had put into her, but now there was more. Her own cream. I was proud. She'd stayed dry for them but with me, she'd begun to cream and she had to enjoy it to do that.
All of a sudden I had to have it! In a kind of frenzy, a mixture of gratitude for her trusting me and a rising need for her, I slapped my mouth down over her asshole and felt her jerking reaction.
But then she pressed hard up against my mouth! She liked it. We'd found a togetherness, and my tongue rammed into the soft velvet hole.
But then I forgot her for a while because I was coming! Out of a limp, hanging cock, I was still coming! It was an explosion; an ecstasy that transcended anything I'd ever felt or imagined. I didn't realize it, but I must have been tongue-fucking her in a frenzy. All I realized was the come spouting out of my cock onto the ground between my legs; in jerks, in great jerks. And when it was over I found that she was way up on her knees with her ass and haunches stuck as far back at me as possible. She was whimpering softly, eagerly, and I was the proudest guy on earth.
She was pushed out so far that her big cunt was a flat, pink, wet area, the come still oozing out. I began to lick it like a starving man who hadn't seen food for a year.
Then I heard words from her; an eager crooning that showed she'd come around to my way of thinking."
"Oh, yes, yes! Yesyesyes. Yes-" She kept repeating it over and over in a whimpering voice.
I licked her big, pink cunt all over; over every inch, coming finally to the center, where I stuck my tongue deep into her hole while she pushed out against my tongue.
With that all done, I finally went for her clit. It was big and protruding and soft and round. Loose, too, and I got the idea that maybe she'd played with it a lot in lieu of getting fucked.
Anyhow, I sucked the whole clit into my mouth, and I'll swear her knees came right up off the ground, and for a split second she was hanging from her clit, which was deep in my mouth.
She let out a yell; muffled, but a lot more audible with me in the tent rather than crouching out in the bushes. But it was a different kind of yell now. A joyous howl of unbridled delight.
And damned if I didn't come again! Twice in a matter of minutes. And even with a limp prick. If that didn't prove my manhood I don't know what could have.
She was back on her knees now, and I saw both her fists open and clawing the dirt beyond the thongs that bound her wrists to the tent pegs.
I was clawing the ground, too, in a loving frenzy. I flattened her clit with my tongue, and her knees came up again, and I could hear her babbling under the hood.
"Oh, god, It's so good I can't stand it. Bite it off! Suck me wrong side out! Suck my guts out!"
When she was in the middle of blowing, I shifted from her clit, and while she screamed in unbearable delight, I gulped the cream as though it would be illegal tomorrow.
I came a third time, but it seemed inconsequential beside the joy I got from giving her such screaming delight.
I knew when it was over-when she couldn't stand anymore-by the way her body sagged. She sank down, and I followed her cunt with my tongue to get the last drops and then kissed her asshole by way of goodbye.
I left her that way, sprawled on her belly with the cream still coming out.
I ran. I ran and ran and ran until I fell exhausted. Then I began crying. I cried for a while in total emotional exhaustion. That passed, and I thought about it. There was a new feeling of exultation from this. Not orgasmic delight but rather a great sense of triumph, of having grown up. I told myself proudly, I've sucked a woman's cunt and asshole. I got a woman by her clit until she blew her gash like glory be!
Then the damndest thing! I had a hard-on. I had the hardest damned hard-on a guy ever got. It hurt, it was so stiff. So without even debating it as I'd have done before that day, I rolled over on my back and jacked off and watched a fresh batch of come shoot out of me.
I was proud.
I'd become a man.
I never knew what happened at the tent when Mom and Dad got back. They released Belle of course. She was free when I got back, all tired from fishing and annoyed at having caught nothing.
She looked wan and tired from her ordeal, but nothing was said. And there was nothing different except that we started home that night instead of staying as long as we'd planned.
I never saw her again, but I'll bet she remembered me. And I'll bet she never got sucked off again as well as I, a rank amateur, did it. This was Art Belden's secret memory; the one that never bored him or palled on him; the one that grew in delightful recall as the time went on. And it either conditioned him for becoming one of the Barbers when boredom drove the three to desperate measures, or it conditioned him to be the gentlest of the three. It was Art Belden who performed the rite of thrusting his penis into the mouths of the victims, and he never forced them to finish him off. He kept the rite entirely symbolic, where Mack Spain, who penetrated them, often finished off the copulation and got his orgasm, and Lee Havens, who did the shaving, quite often allowed the scissors and the shaver to pull, hurting some of the girls cruelly.
However, the excitement and thrills of the game, those most peculiar rapes, held all of them- somewhat like a habit-forming drug.
They looked forward with ever-increasing pleasure and excitement to the danger of the next one.
And they were proud of the growing number of samples that adorned the "scoreboard" of the secret clubroom of the Barbers.