Barb Moore, Spy...

[thehangingtree]

The water keeps filling the barrel attached to Barb’s noose another gallon every 24 seconds. Once Barb’s feet clear the gallows’ deck she is drawn upwards quicker as barrel fills.

Shit I am hanged! I try to stay still as I spin from rope before the cheering crowd!


I can still breathe. It is not that hard right now. I first think for a moment this is good think until logic reminds me I am not leaving this noose until I am dead and my neck is already hurting more than I could have imagined! The noose stops and I open my eyes. Damn I way up here!

Between the height of the raised deck and the tall derrick of the gallows Barb hangs with her eyes almost 10 meters above the street suspended by the coarse 2 cm rope around her neck. She doesn’t realize it but she has begun her dance with the noose.

Shit this rope is getting tighter I think as I struggle for my next breath. I better get my wrists free of the rope so I can get out of this noose. At least the fucking crowd is gone…

The crowd is still there. Barb’s vision is blurred and the ringing in her ears drowns out the blusterous crowd below her.

Damn it Tree why did you tie my wrists so tight? Couldn’t you cut me a bit of a break? I better work harder or this noose is going to kill me!


Damn they are still here. I hope they like the show. I am not enjoying starring in it. Fuck I am hardly getting any air! I have to get my wrists free or this rope is going to crush my throat!

Your narrator will take over from here. Barb is a little busy right now. She has been hanged almost a quarter hour and she barely can draw any air. Quickly the rope crushes her throat. The thick rope has yet to seal the arteries in her neck. She feels blood hammer past neck and her lungs burn with stale air that poisons her. She begins her final frantic dance…



Her body begins to relax and her bladder gives up.



At 10:18 PM CDT Barb gives up to the noose. Her eyes are open but see nothing.


This would end the story except PAWS has Kathy Summers. She is the reason Barb went to NW Arkansas if you might recall. The morning Barb was hanged ever utility pole in Paris, Arkansas has a picture of the IMF executioner printed on a cheap color copier being fitted for her own noose stapled to it.



PAWS were not bluffing. They perched Kathy on a box, pulled a hood over her head and cinch the noose around her neck.



The feared executer Kathy whimpers like a baby as they tell her the second Barb hangs, she will hang.


Summers wouldn’t last as long as Barb had. The IMF vows vengeance but they would never find the undisclosed location Kathy was hanged…



So that ends Ending Two…

What horrible thing could surpass this? Did the eclipse do something to Tree’s already spent mind? Oh the humanity!!!

Tree

 

[Barbaria1]

Great shot of my tight little as I am performing the dance. Wonder who is manning the spotlight?

The height of my performance. Me and my shadow! Look at me kick!

HOW MANY TIMES NOW HAVE I BANNED THAT CAMERA ANGLE? Does Tree ever listen?

A little higher and to the left and I could perform a partial eclipse of the moon.

Great ending. Great manias. Well done Tree!



What could he possibly have in store for me in ending 3?that could be worse than this?

 

[thehangingtree]

View attachment 523945 Great shot of my tight little as I am performing the dance. Wonder who is manning the spotlight?

View attachment 523946 The height of my performance. Me and my shadow! Look at me kick!

View attachment 523947 HOW MANY TIMES NOW HAVE I BANNED THAT CAMERA ANGLE? Does Tree ever listen?

View attachment 523948 A little higher and to the left and I could perform a partial eclipse of the moon.

Great ending. Great manias. Well done Tree!



What could he possibly have in store for me in ending 3?that could be worse than this?

Tree has no investment in RR Entertainment thus no control on camera angles.

Thank you for your kind words and be assured your 'performance' was enjoyed by all watching.

It will be a day or two before we see ending #3. It goes beyond anything done on CF since I have been here!!!

 

[Barbaria1]

Tree has no investment in RR Entertainment thus no control on camera angles.

Likely story

Thank you for your kind words and be assured your 'performance' was enjoyed by all watching.

Oh shit! That's what I was afraid of!

It will be a day or two before we see ending #3. It goes beyond anything done on CF since I have been here!!!

Uh oh! Brace yourselves folks!!!

 

[Wragg]

It will be a day or two before we see ending #3. It goes beyond anything done on CF since I have been here!!!

I thought the last ending was pretty imaginative, with a slowly filling barrel!

 

[thehangingtree]

I thought the last ending was pretty imaginative, with a slowly filling barrel!

Thank you. So far Barb has been crucified (and shot while crucified) and hanged and tree is writing the last ending that promises to be something never seen before at CF.

I hope you are happy you sent her to infiltrate the IMF...

 

[Wragg]

I hope you are happy you sent her to infiltrate the IMF...

So far, it's been most rewarding!

 

[Barbaria1]

So far, it's been most rewarding!

Easy for you to say

 

[thehangingtree]

As promised Ending #3

Barb is in her cell while Tree is in court trying to save her from being crucified in Dardanelle or being hanged in Paris, Arkansas.

I’ve heard Tree has a rather dismal record in court and while not expecting a reprieve I am not expecting what happens. Two goons dressed in black parachute pants and tee shirts, one tall and black the other white, shorter but more musclebound, come into my cell. In moments I am shackled and handcuffed and a metal collar with a chain lead is locked around my neck. They take me from my cell and as I scramble to follow with rapid tiny steps dictated by the shackles I ask “Where are you taking me? What is going on?”

“You aren’t going to see your cell again” the black thug says. “The rest you will find out soon enough. ‘I just wouldn’t want to be you’ is all I can say.”

I am led out to the courthouse and to a white van with a cop light bar on the roof but no markings or windows aft of the driver’s. He opens the back door and the black guy grabs my waist and hoists me into what I see is a prisoner transfer van. I am secured with a seatbelt and the handcuffs are fixed to a ring between my lower thighs. After they blindfold me they shut and lock the backdoors. The van starts and its siren is turned on.

When they turn it onto the high they shut it off and leave it off. I can’t tell how fast they are driving but it is well in excess of the speed limit. As I become aware of my surroundings I notice the compartment I am in is generously air conditioned. I can’t touch them but I am sure my nipples are most tumescent.



And speaking not being able to touch things with the handcuffs latched in the loop almost between my knees and the seat belt try as I might I can’t pass the time massaging myself ‘down there’- the bastards. The goons up front are listening to old country/western music. I wouldn’t have thought that would be their type of sound.

When they first came for me in the cell I thought my time was up. How long I’ve been back here I don’t know but my tight little is getting sore from being parked on the thinly padded seat for hours on end, my legs are going to sleep, and I have to pee. The van stops for gas and one of the thugs opens the door and climbs in. As he checks my bonds and seatbelt I say “I need to use the restroom.”

“We are at the second busiest QuikTrip in Missouri” he says.

“So? I’m blindfolded” I say. “Let’s give them a show.”



He puts the metal collar around my neck and I shuffle to the back of the van when he lifts me out. The sunbaked asphalt burns the soles of my bare feet. He leads me into the convenience store and as we walk in he yells with his baritone voice “Ain’t nothing to look at here. Back off and don’t touch the prisoner.”

I shuffle behind him blindfolded and he leads me into a restroom. I figure it’s the men’s room when he says “What’s the matter, boy. Haven’t you seen tits before?”

He guides me into the stall and helps me sit. I don’t hear the stall door shut and ask “Do you have watch?”

“You’re blindfolded. Pretend I’m not here and give me a show.”

Need overrules modesty as I relieve myself. I’m taken back to the van and after strapping me in we are on the road again burning up the highway. The last bit drive was on a winding hilly road before the van pulls to a stop. I’m led into a building and down a set of stairs. ‘Another dungeon’ I think as the shackles are removed from my ankles. The handcuffs are next and I rip the blindfold off. As my eyes adjust to the light the tall black says “You know where the bathroom is. Take a shower. Ulrika has laid clothing on your bed. When you are done Tree is waiting on the deck to talk to you.”

“I’m at the Tree house?”

“We call it the ‘Tree estate’ but yes” he says. He leaves and does not lock the door. I look at the clothes and stroll into the bathroom. I have been here before but I think I drank too much and don’t remember if and did… anything… at all. I take a long hot shower that had to suck the aquafer dry. I dry off and dress. Damn, there is even a lacy bra and ‘kinis. After pulling up the jeans and tugging on the tank top I slip on the sandals and climb up the stairs. The French doors to the deck are wide open and Tree’s cats wander in and out. I take a deep breath and walk out of the house and onto the deck. Tree is out there but I walk to the bar first. There is a bottle of my favorite wine chilling in a bucket of ice with a few packs of Wu’s and a ‘THT’ Zippo lighter lying next to them. What I know of Tree he doesn’t speak to eloquently but I recognize the invitation he has laid out. I pour a glass of wine, take the pack and lighter, and sit across the table from Tree. I light a Wu and sip some wine before asking “So where do we go from here?”



“I won, sort of, the court case. You aren’t going to be executed.”

This is the first good news I have had in a while. There has to be a catch! Needless to say I ask the question “What is the catch, Tree?”

Tree looks at me and says “You can spend 7 years in the Hooker, Oklahoma Reparation farm as a breeder and milk cow or you can marry me.”



(she never learns...)

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I am and it will be a Northwest Arkansas style wedding” he replies.

“Can we talk this over” I ask.



“I have nothing else to do” Tree replies.

Dear God what has happened here? Should Barb submit to being breed stock? Should she marry Tree?

…Eeeeuuuwww….

He’s not that bad, ladies, really!!!

…or should she select ‘door #3’ that is a complete unknown?

How does Tree come up with such perverse situations?

Stay tuned…

Tree

 

[Barbaria1]

Hmmmmmm ... that's a choice?

Well ... I think I should opt for marrying the chump idiot guy ... at least long enough to drink all his wine, wreck his car and drain his bank account.

And at the rate he is drowning himself in Seagram's I probably won't even have to go to bed with him, although I will never know what I am missing

On the other hand, there is always door #3

Nice beginning on the third ending Tree. Any episode that manages to find a way to include the words "tumescent", "tight little", and "kinis" is a winner in my eyes.

But don't let it go to your dick head and think you are going to get into anything else of mine!

 

[Wragg]

As promised Ending #3

Barb is in her cell while Tree is in court trying to save her from being crucified in Dardanelle or being hanged in Paris, Arkansas.

I’ve heard Tree has a rather dismal record in court and while not expecting a reprieve I am not expecting what happens. Two goons dressed in black parachute pants and tee shirts, one tall and black the other white, shorter but more musclebound, come into my cell. In moments I am shackled and handcuffed and a metal collar with a chain lead is locked around my neck. They take me from my cell and as I scramble to follow with rapid tiny steps dictated by the shackles I ask “Where are you taking me? What is going on?”

“You aren’t going to see your cell again” the black thug says. “The rest you will find out soon enough. ‘I just wouldn’t want to be you’ is all I can say.”

I am led out to the courthouse and to a white van with a cop light bar on the roof but no markings or windows aft of the driver’s. He opens the back door and the black guy grabs my waist and hoists me into what I see is a prisoner transfer van. I am secured with a seatbelt and the handcuffs are fixed to a ring between my lower thighs. After they blindfold me they shut and lock the backdoors. The van starts and its siren is turned on.

When they turn it onto the high they shut it off and leave it off. I can’t tell how fast they are driving but it is well in excess of the speed limit. As I become aware of my surroundings I notice the compartment I am in is generously air conditioned. I can’t touch them but I am sure my nipples are most tumescent.

View attachment 524055

And speaking not being able to touch things with the handcuffs latched in the loop almost between my knees and the seat belt try as I might I can’t pass the time massaging myself ‘down there’- the bastards. The goons up front are listening to old country/western music. I wouldn’t have thought that would be their type of sound.

When they first came for me in the cell I thought my time was up. How long I’ve been back here I don’t know but my tight little is getting sore from being parked on the thinly padded seat for hours on end, my legs are going to sleep, and I have to pee. The van stops for gas and one of the thugs opens the door and climbs in. As he checks my bonds and seatbelt I say “I need to use the restroom.”

“We are at the second busiest QuikTrip in Missouri” he says.

“So? I’m blindfolded” I say. “Let’s give them a show.”

View attachment 524056

He puts the metal collar around my neck and I shuffle to the back of the van when he lifts me out. The sunbaked asphalt burns the soles of my bare feet. He leads me into the convenience store and as we walk in he yells with his baritone voice “Ain’t nothing to look at here. Back off and don’t touch the prisoner.”

I shuffle behind him blindfolded and he leads me into a restroom. I figure it’s the men’s room when he says “What’s the matter, boy. Haven’t you seen tits before?”

He guides me into the stall and helps me sit. I don’t hear the stall door shut and ask “Do you have watch?”

“You’re blindfolded. Pretend I’m not here and give me a show.”

Need overrules modesty as I relieve myself. I’m taken back to the van and after strapping me in we are on the road again burning up the highway. The last bit drive was on a winding hilly road before the van pulls to a stop. I’m led into a building and down a set of stairs. ‘Another dungeon’ I think as the shackles are removed from my ankles. The handcuffs are next and I rip the blindfold off. As my eyes adjust to the light the tall black says “You know where the bathroom is. Take a shower. Ulrika has laid clothing on your bed. When you are done Tree is waiting on the deck to talk to you.”

“I’m at the Tree house?”

“We call it the ‘Tree estate’ but yes” he says. He leaves and does not lock the door. I look at the clothes and stroll into the bathroom. I have been here before but I think I drank too much and don’t remember if and did… anything… at all. I take a long hot shower that had to suck the aquafer dry. I dry off and dress. Damn, there is even a lacy bra and ‘kinis. After pulling up the jeans and tugging on the tank top I slip on the sandals and climb up the stairs. The French doors to the deck are wide open and Tree’s cats wander in and out. I take a deep breath and walk out of the house and onto the deck. Tree is out there but I walk to the bar first. There is a bottle of my favorite wine chilling in a bucket of ice with a few packs of Wu’s and a ‘THT’ Zippo lighter lying next to them. What I know of Tree he doesn’t speak to eloquently but I recognize the invitation he has laid out. I pour a glass of wine, take the pack and lighter, and sit across the table from Tree. I light a Wu and sip some wine before asking “So where do we go from here?”

View attachment 524057

“I won, sort of, the court case. You aren’t going to be executed.”

This is the first good news I have had in a while. There has to be a catch! Needless to say I ask the question “What is the catch, Tree?”

Tree looks at me and says “You can spend 7 years in the Hooker, Oklahoma Reparation farm as a breeder and milk cow or you can marry me.”

View attachment 524059

(she never learns...)

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I am and it will be a Northwest Arkansas style wedding” he replies.

“Can we talk this over” I ask.

View attachment 524058

“I have nothing else to do” Tree replies.

Dear God what has happened here? Should Barb submit to being breed stock? Should she marry Tree?

…Eeeeuuuwww….

He’s not that bad, ladies, really!!!

…or should she select ‘door #3’ that is a complete unknown?

How does Tree come up with such perverse situations?

Stay tuned…

Tree

Well, that is different!

Look on the bright side, Barb, you'll have Ulrika for company!

And Joan

 

[thehangingtree]

As noted, Tree and Barb would talk over her options. She drank wine and smoked Madame Wu’s while Tree indulged in Seagram’s and Marlboros. It was a nice day to sit out on the deck. As Barb talked she loosened up a lot. By the way if you wonder how Tree ‘sort of’ won his court case the black judge in Arkansas is Gunner’s cousin. He doesn’t like rednecks any more than the blue state professor. He is hoping marrying Tree would so abhorrent to Barb she would choose 7 years in the Hooker, Oklahoma Reparation farm as a breeder and milk cow where he is a plantation master and could use her at will. Let’s join Barb and Tree at the Tree estate…

I hold my wine pretty well. The longer I drink the longer Tree does… well he would have drunk anyway. I have to keep him talking so I find out what the undisclosed option three is. I don’t let on that I would marry him before considering going to the reparation farm. In my undergraduate studies at the UVM I did an ‘internship’ and vowed never to be mounted to those infernal machines again. But in the in the art of the deal you never tell your opponent what you will or won’t do. I even lie to saying I would rather have my fine breast be treated as udders and have strangers impregnating me before anyone could call me ‘Mrs. Tree’.



He tells me I could go by my maiden name. Isn’t he such a progressive? You would never know it by looking at him. I’m not getting anywhere quickly on ‘option #3’. I think I need to help my odds. Start slow I think. I feign that I am getting warm and lose my top and a bit later the lacy bra. I can’t see his eyes behind his sunglass but I damn well know where they are locked.



I inject little nudges into the conversation that he could give me a hint about the third option but he is too thick to get it. At one point he glances away. I look but don’t see much of anything but trees. I excuse myself saying “I have to powder my nose.”

“You can piss off the deck if you want.”

“Thanks but no thanks” I reply as I walk into the house. Passing through the kitchen I see a glass door with a padlock and maybe 25 sets of car keys hanging from pegs. If I can get in it I can sneak out tonight and get to my blue state. I rummage through the drawers and find a meat tenderizing hammer. I beat on the glass but it holds. Tree yells from the deck “It’s a half inch thick bulletproof glass, Barb. Don’t hurt yourself!”

Shit! I didn’t think about the windows being open! I use the restroom and return to the deck knowing a fine pair of tumescent breasts isn’t going to get me the information I want. I’ll need to redouble my efforts. I think I am getting both drunk and stoned. I walk around the back side of Tree’s chair to steal a glance at both the wet spot in the crotch of his pants and look up to what he was glancing at earlier. I couldn’t see it from my angle but from his you can see a path that leads to the Hill of 100 Crosses™. I can see a few of the empty crosses through the narrow clearing. It is chilling sight but at least I have a good idea what option #3 is. I go to the bar and pour yet another glass of wine forgetting I have not had a bite to eat since yesterday. I light a Madame Wu, sit in my chair, and look at him asking “ So my choices are becoming a human cow, a trip to the hill, or marrying you?”



“If that’s what you think, Barb.”

“What is a ‘Northwest Arkansas style wedding’” I ask.

“It is more formal than you would guess. The groom wears a tuxedo an the bride a white wedding dress which will be sort of ironic considering your ongoing affair with Goldman. There are groom’s men and brides maids that…”

“Do I get to choose my bridesmaid?”

“Of course; there are a few other nuances but you can handle them” he replies.

“What if it doesn’t work out” I ask.

“You clean me out of half of what I own and head back to your blue state” he says.

Barb’s mind is made up. She isn’t about to go to the reparations farm and won’t even consider the Hill of 100 Crosses™. Barb gets rather drunk and loosens up more as the night goes on.



The wedding is held in mid-September. Tree hires the judge for the ceremony, a lawn care company to dress up the place, and hires the caterers and the tent company that has served so many crucifixions.

Her bridesmaids, Siss, Messa, and Erin, help Barb into her wedding gown…



…after doing whatever girls do when left alone! They pose for their traditional NW Arkansas wedding pre-ceremony photograph.



The ceremony is pretty normal until it is almost over. The preacher says “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may grope the bride!”



…and he does! I’ve had enough to drink I really don’t care. I hear the elderly lady behind me to my right exclaim “I do love traditional weddings.”

Yes I married Tree. After the ceremony we pose for our pictures under the real hanging tree.



Tree turns out to be less an ogre than I thought he would be. I quit wrecking his cars once I figured the car could be mine some day when I divorce his ass. Then something happened I had not counted on. I am carrying his baby!



I am so mad at both him and me! But he hired a professional photographer to make a portfolio of my ninth month.



…He really better than ‘not bad’…

Barb Moore –Mrs. Tree…

Thanks for watching this tale and to the star, Ms. Moore

It’s really over…



Tree

 

[bobinder]

Thanks for watching this tale and to the star, Ms. Moore

It’s really over…

Okay, I never saw that coming. Definitely different.
It's a great tale and it went in some deep and tormenting places.
So much variety, I really don't know which ending to prefer.
I just know that Barb hates 'Happy ever after', so maybe that is the cruellest one?

Amongst the classic wit of your inimitable style, there was a lot of profound exploration of emotional themes, which raised this one above pure entertainment. Well done.

 

[thehangingtree]

Okay, I never saw that coming. Definitely different.
It's a great tale and it went in some deep and tormenting places.
So much variety, I really don't know which ending to prefer.
I just know that Barb hates 'Happy ever after', so maybe that is the cruellest one?

It was hard to write... I had to pull together all my fortitude...

 

[Barbaria1]

It was hard to write... I had to pull together all my fortitude...

View attachment 524310

I think he is trying to say he had trouble pulling up his pants?

 

[thehangingtree]

I think he is trying to say he had trouble pulling up his pants?

Are you hunting for demerits???

 

[Barbaria1]

Are you hunting for demerits???

Don't use such big words then

 

[thehangingtree]

Don't use such big words then

Which one???
Marlboro or Seagram's???

 

[Barbaria1]

My NE Arkansas wedding photo album:

Me before he knocked me up (WTF did he put in my dtink to get me to say I do .... and then he DID. Wasn't it The Beach Boys who sang about the way we northern girls keep our boyfriends warm at night? ).

Me and my bridesmaids (right after my all girl orgy bridal shower).

Me and my tight little (and theirs too).

Tree and my tight little (who's the gate crasher ogling me from behind? ... Goldman, you say? Never heard of him!).

Me and Abe Lincoln Tree (doesn't he look fuvkng stupid in that stove pipe hat?).

Me and Tree Junior to be (My God what have I done!).

Best looking bride NE Arkansas ever saw (and they all "danced" behind the barn with me after the ceremony ... let's hope that really is little Tree inside of me and not someone else or I may end up on the Hill of 100 after all ... assuming he's ever sober enoug to figure it out).

Great ending Tree. A tour d' farce!

 

[thehangingtree]

My NE Arkansas wedding photo album:

Wasn't it The Beach Boys who sang about the way we northern girls keep our boyfriends warm at night? ).

Tree and my tight little (who's the gate crasher ogling me from behind? ... Goldman, you say? Never heard of him!).

Me and Abe Lincoln Tree (doesn't he look fuvkng stupid in that stove pipe hat?).

Me and Tree Junior to be (My God what have I done!).

Best looking bride NE Arkansas ever saw (and they all "danced" behind the barn with me after the ceremony ... let's hope that really is little Tree inside of me and not someone else or I may end up on the Hill of 100 after all ... assuming he's ever sober enoug to figure it out).

Great ending Tree. A tour d' farce!

Yes it was the Beach Boys who sang about Northern girls and it is true!!! I think they you are far more enjoyable than an electric blanket.
Me and Abe Lincoln Tree (doesn't he look fuvkng stupid in that stove pipe hat?).
I get dressed up and get criticized...

Goldman, you say? Never heard of him!).
...really???

let's hope that really is little Tree inside of me and not someone else or I may end up on the Hill of 100 after all ...
I think she misses the hill... strange...

Thanks to all who came along for the journey... Three endings in a story done in one month... A new Tree record!!!