• Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.

Barb Time Travels...

Go to CruxDreams.com
thehangingtree

thehangingtree

Proconsul
Staff member
Time travel… Yet again…

I hate when Tree invites me to his house. Nothing good comes from it yet I go every fucking time he summons me. This time he wants me to do some ‘parallel time travel universe’ thing. He assures me I will survive the trip but I will remember every bit of it. He tells me he found a relative of mine also named Barbara Moore from the 1930s. He wants to put me into her body and report back what she felt.

“What happened to her” I ask.

He replies “If I told you that it could cloud your memory. It’s not good for research.”

He tosses an envelope stuffed fat with cash and says “That could make it worthwhile and that’s a 10% down payment.”

I don’t have to open it… I’ve seen Professor Tree’s envelopes before. There has to ten K in it in ‘Ben Franklin’s’. I’ll find more than a few that are ‘silver certificates’. That’s worth ten times the cash. He is dumber than Obama… He sent European cash to Iran.

But I play coy and tell him to convince me.

tree's sister 5.jpg

He brings me to the barn at the Tree estate and binds my wrists to one of posts in the cellar tight enough my wrists bleed.
blindfold 010 b.jpg

She will never admit I am good at that!!!

Tree tells Barb to keep the time machine from fucking up she had to be absolutely clean. Fortunately Siss was there to help out!
barb and siss 008.jpg

Tree
 
Last edited:
I ask to meet with Tree again and ask why I should go on this trip. He comforts me and says “Do you want to learn about yourself?” Tree asks.

tree noir 003.jpg

I’m not sure I want to. Siss is here to strap me in the time machine. I am committed to this trip now. Siss kisses me and nips at my lip. She purrs “You know Tree is sending you to be executed.”

les 047.jpg

“What’s new?” I ask with faux flippancy I demand. “Turn it on!”

Siss accommodates me. We need to tweak this fucking thing… It hurts…”

exe gc 005 b.jpg

…where am I???

I look up and see Tree wearing a cheap tuxedo while my wrists are cuffed to my ankles and my legs splayed over the chair’s arms. I doubt he knows I have brown eyes!

tree noir 001.jpg

Barb is such a bitch…

Tree
 
Oh! Time travel ...

Time-13735950_889666851138913_254301462_n.jpg
​


Those were the days!
​
ps: only one bow tie is cool. ;)
 
Barbaria1 said:
1930s eh? :rolleyes:

FDR, gangsters, and Hollywood glitz. :p

Why do I always let Tree talk me into these zany adventures ...
:rolleyes:
View attachment 412898 I meant the time travel, not his bedroom.:p
Click to expand...
I hope this time travel adventure ends better for you. The last one didn't end very well for you:p
 
I must admit this ‘parallel universe’ is interesting. I look down at Barbara Moore- not the PhD candidate but the mobster’s moll. She looks up at me and says “What do you want from me, Tree- a fuck or someone dead?”

madame wu 107.jpg

My nickname is “The Hanging Tree”. Yeah, I have a bit of a shady background and probably not a pedigree that would not impress too many people.

Tree fat.jpg

The time machine actually works better than Barb experienced. She has been sent back to the 1930s in the ‘Parallel Universe’ mode. I show up in period correct clothing and don’t let on to Barb I know what is going on.
tree esspresso a.jpg

I am not allowed to alter history and play along with her lust for ‘Thomas ‘Honker’ Tree’, my great-grandfather. She draws on the ‘Madame Wu Blunt™’, a cigar I could hardly afford and asks me again “Do you want someone dead or do you want to fuck?”

I ask her if they are mutually exclusive. She says “I suppose not. But you damn well better make me very happy!”

(All traces of documentation show that Barb’s last line was the reason Viagra was researched and marketed…)

She didn’t complain and I lived through the night… Barely- is she taking lessons from Dorothy???

couple 020.jpg

Tree
 
image.jpeg "Barely" is right. Whew! What a night! Talk about sweaty sheets! So many times I lost count, and I can barely stand up this morning.

Is that why they call him "Honker"? Not even Dorothy could have outlasted that marathon! Did we set some kind of record? How many times in one night can one ... Oh never mind.

What is it about this guy? I am just such an easy conquest for a man who knows how to write good "noir." Eat your heart out Mickey S.!

Now, who was it you wanted dead? And how much are you willing to pay? I may be a good lay, but I don't come cheap when it comes to violence!
 
Barbaria1 said:
View attachment 412926 "Barely" is right. Whew! What a night! Talk about sweaty sheets! So many times I lost count, and I can barely stand up this morning.

Is that why they call him "Honker"? Not even Dorothy could have outlasted that marathon! Did we set some kind of record? How many times in one night can one ... Oh never mind.

What is it about this guy? I am just such an easy conquest for a man who knows how to write good "noir." Eat your heart out Mickey S.!

Now, who was it you wanted dead? And how much are you willing to pay? I may be a good lay, but I don't come cheap when it comes to violence!
Click to expand...
Tree and his monitor are most pleased he wasn't drinking coffee when he read this...:devil::):p
 
I meet Barbara Moore at a speakeasy near downtown LA. She is playing cards and is absolute ruthless at it.
madame wu 108.jpg

As she cleaned out all the other players I began to realize how she could be a cold-blooded hit woman. We retired to a private room and talked.

“I hear you know the mayor’s wife rather well” I say.

“I would say 'intimately' would be a better description” she purrs.

I raise an eyebrow but I do not press the issue. “I suppose you know the mayor likes to bend the law. He’s been on take with WPA (Works Progress Administration).”

“So, isn’t everyone?”

She has a point but I explain “She’s threating to blow the whistle on him to the LA Times if he divorces her. He wants her out of the way of the permanently.”

“It’s going to cost him dearly” she says flatly without a hint of emotion. “I’m meeting her tonight at the Ambassador Hotel. I can ‘do’ her tonight if you have the cash.”

“Half now and half when it’s done” I say.

“Sorry, dear, cash up front. You aren’t hiring some rookie.”

I hand an envelope fat with cash to her. She flips through the pile of $100 bills without counting them then stuffs them back in the envelope. She slips on a fur coat and says “It was doing business with you.”

couple 073.jpg

In front of the speakeasy she climbs into one of the joint’s courtesy cars for the short drive to Ambassador Hotel. Let’s join her…

I light up a Madame Wu and open my purse. I pull out my custom Colt .45 Model 1911 and check the clip and check the first round. The bullet is a fat sucker with a soft lead hollow-point that will neatly enter skull but will blow the back side of it along with most of her brains. It will be easy for a decent mortician to mask the entry wound and stuff the back side of her head with a thick wad of cotton and hide it with a wig. As the car turns into the hotel’s long driveway I screw the silencer onto the end of the barrel and put the gun back in my purse.

I walk to the concierge and without asking or saying a word and I am handed a key to room where the mayor’s wife Margery waits for. The elevator operator asks “Top floor, Miss Moore?” and whisks me up to the top where the most expensive suites are. I put the key in the lock and let myself in. Margery sits in a chair, twirls her lace French undies around her index finger, and spreads her legs to show me her bare pussy. I laugh and say “Not so fast; I brought something special for you!”

“Is it a new strap-on?” she asks I turn my back to her and pull the gun from my purse.

“No, but you’ll still have a ‘blast’ with it” I reply. I turn back to and aim at her forehead. I really enjoy seeing my ‘mark’s’ expression when they begin to realize that sweet little me is going to put a slug in their head.”

She cries “Barb, that’s not funny!”

“That’s because it’s not a joke. Lights out, Marge- maybe in your next life you will learn not to piss off powerful people” I say as I squeeze the trigger. With the silencer her brains and back of her skull make almost as much noise hitting the wall behind her as the shot itself. Marge slides off the seat of the chair and her body does a moment or two of involuntary twitching. I pick up her panty and sniff the crotch. ‘I will miss that’ I think as I shove them into my cleavage. The silencer cools quickly and I take it from the gun’s barrel along with the spent shell. I look at the mirror and think “You were lucky, bitch. If Tree ‘did’ you, you would be swimming with ‘concrete shoes’ right now. I look at the full-length mirror admiring my work. I say to the mirror “No one appreciates a profession ‘hit’.”

assas 002 A.jpg

-Miss Barbara Moore

Tree
 
thehangingtree said:
So are your kinis but I think they were pretty racy in the 1930s...
Click to expand...

I'm surprised, Tree! I really was expecting a comment about radios, knobs and fine tuning but you are right ... the classic undies would the Chemise.

Chemise01_lgqd.jpg ;)
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom