Gustav
The Girls Barber (Part 1)
Author: Tigris
Content: X
Location: School-Army-Prison
(Older Sis Story)
There was a history in the town where Venus and I grew up, a history about a man, a barber, a person all girls had to visit once they reached a certain age, to get a special treatment…
A shave, a full shave, head to toe, and that it would have to be repeated 3 times every week for years to come, some people said that it was a lie and that he didn’t exist, some others said that he was a weird being that lived under the earth and some others said other gruesome stories, the other women in town never said a word when they were interrogated, they just remained silent or evaded the question, Venus is my sister but we moved out of that town when she was still very small, she had heard the tales, of what she would be through if we would have stayed there, she didn’t believe a word, but on the day of her 21st birthday, we got a letter from our mother…
It certainly was a strange event, you’ll see, we never knew our mother, but then how did we knew it was from our mother?, from the reaction my father got when he got the letter, he had never lied to us, and I don’t have reasons for doubting his word now, my sister read the letter with me at her side, it said that she had to go to our birthplace to meet her, that she had a surprise for her because of her birthday, we both thought about it for a while
“you don’t think its because of that story…” I asked her wondering remembering the tale our father told us a few times every year as she was about to reach “the age”.
“Don’t be silly, I’m sure she just wants to meet her daughter,” she said confidently in her words.
“But it doesn’t make any sense, we never knew her and now this… where has she been all these years?” I replied, “and why only you?” I was certainly worried.
“I don’t know, but I, it’s strange, but I want to go, I know that everything will be just fine, and I’ll have you with me, don’t worry,” she said smiling to me.
What did she meant by those words you ask?, you’ll see, my sis and I are twins, different-sex but we were born at the same time, and we looked very alike, and by that, we seemed to develop some kind of psychic bond between us, and it was very powerful, I knew what she was looking at if I concentrated hard, she never worked on hers, but there it was, she knew how I felt or if I was alright.
“I still think it’s a bad idea,” I said looking at her face, she seemed in a trance, looking at the letter “I should go with you if you want to go”
“You worry too much Ty, I’ll be fine, look,” she said opening a bag in the envelope that I didn’t notice “tickets for my trip,” she said happy “Ill start packing right away”
Those were the last words I heard from her lips in weeks, she pointed out of the room so I walked out and rushed to my own, I hopped on the bed and close my eyes, and from there, to my sister’s…
She packed several pieces of clothing in a bag, shoes, makeup, girls stuff, took her bag, ticket, and ran out, my dad saw her running out of the house and didn’t even try to stop her.
“I’m sorry my dear daughter, I tried to run from fate, but I think it’s impossible” that was all I heard.
My sis took a cab to the airport, rushing like if something more powerful than her mind was calling, her thoughts were cloudy, I couldn’t listen to them, I was scared, scared of what was about to come, the plane makes the 3 hour trip to our birth town, she was met by a tall beautiful lady, with dark long hair, dressed in white, she presented herself as our mother, she embraced my sis and walked with her to a car, she said that she had to fulfill the destiny of every girl of this town, or doom would be cast upon us all.
“You are meeting the barber” that’s all she said
Mom took my sis to a very old building, where she was allowed to bathe, eat and sleep, giving me time to rest a little bit, grab something to eat and rush to my bed, my dad wished me good luck saying I was going to need it, it was hard contacting my sis again, but after a few minutes, I managed.
She was walking on a pathway to what seemed to be some very old… prison? that was weird, she slowly came close to a door, she took a deep breath standing before it, after a few seconds, it opened and she walked into a barbershop.
She was alone now, greeted by a man. I couldn’t see him well, he smiled and held out his hand, inviting my sister to take it, after a few seconds of doubt she felt a strong rush in her head, clouding her thoughts again, she rose her hand and met his, and he slowly walked her to a big red leather barber chair, allowing her to seat…
The barber covered Venus with a heavy-linen hair cape and fastened it behind her neck. Then he lowered the back of the chair to a 45-degree angle.
Venus inhaled, feasting on the mingled scents of rum and talcum powder.
Did she detect a hint of baby oil?, That might explain the barber’s gleaming scalp. A moment later those scents were joined by a soapy tang, a gentle smell of lime, as the barber hand-applied a base coat of lather to Venus’s face.
The mix of odors triggered visions of places and events: the comforting grip of our grandfather’s hand as they stepped out of a snowstorm and into the warmth of a Vermont barbershop; the elegance of her first professional haircut, in the lobby beauty shop back in Spain; years later, the beat of a tropical downpour on a tin roof in Hawai, accompanying a tale of ancestry from a friend of dad.
Venus was pulled from her reveries as the barber spread a steaming towel over her face. She gasped at the new experience she was submitted to. Finding it quite pleasurable. Then she sighed at the whisper-swoosh sound of shaving soap being whipped into a lather.
Every barber had his style of creating a lather. Some worked silently; others were more boisterous, not in itself a fault. The careless ones knocked their brush handles against the shaving bowl, clickety-clack. With one of those, you’d later find a dab of lather behind your ear, or perhaps a nick somewhere.
This barber augmented the rhythm of his brush with a throaty humming. He wore a short-sleeved white tunic that revealed bare arms more befitting a blacksmith than a barber. When he turned back to Venus, the wooden bowl of lather and the shaving brush was miniatures in his hands.
As the barber brushed the lather onto her face, Venus took a deep breath. It was muskier than the base lather. She was mesmerized by the new scent.
A moment later Venus smiled as another rhythm cut in the slappedy-whick of a razor being stropped.
It ceased, and the barber moved to Venus’s side. He put his left hand on Venus’s head and, with his thumb pressed slightly above the hairline, stretched the skin taut. A freehand stroke cut through the lather from the right sideburn down to the corner of Venus’s mouth.
An upward, backhand stroke cleared the remaining lather from Venus’s cheek.
With one finger, the barber tipped Venus’s nose up. It took a single swipe to lay bare the area on the right side between the nose and lip. Then he touched Venus’s forehead with his finger. Venus arched her head backward, exposing the length of her throat.
Another stroke and the barber cleared the area from just below the point of Venus’s chin down to her chest. An upward stroke and the right side of Venus’s neck was cleared.
The barber glided around behind the chair, sweeping the razor across the wiping towel, stripping it of lather. Now, on the left side, he duplicated the previous strokes, adding a single stroke dead-center between Venus’s nose and upper lip.
He finished with two flicks of the razor between Venus’s lower lip and chin. He wiped the razor on the towel and set it in a metal container of antiseptic solution. He left the hair cape in place but dropped the towel into the hamper.
Venus sat upright and looked in the mirror. She ran a hand over her face to confirm what she saw. Not a hint of a cut. Not a speck of lather. Thirteen sure strokes to a perfect shave.
“Well” Venus began, but she was cut short. The barber put a finger on her forehead and forced her backward.
“We are not half done yet,” he said.
He grabbed his razor and taking a comb, he started hacking through the hair of my sis, reducing its length quickly, without hesitation, and he knew what he was doing, he reduced her hair to mere stubble. Only that remained now on Venus’s skull. Still humming, the barber massaged the lime-scented lather into Venus’s scalp, then spread a steaming towel over the lather.
Was this some new shampooing process? Before Venus could decide, she heard the whisper…swoosh of the shaving brush and caught the scent of musky lather.
The barber stripped the towel from Venus’s head, removing the lime-scented lather base with it. He re-lathered Venus’s scalp with the musky lather, even covering her eyebrows. Then he stepped behind the chair, razor in hand, and with seven rapid front-to-back strokes cleared Venus’s dome of both hair and lather. Two more swipes, and away went the eyebrows.
The barber undid the hair drape and dropped it into the hamper. He stepped to the side of the chair and undid the buttons on Venus’s blouse. And she didn’t resist, she just couldn’t. When he tugged on it, Venus leaned forward, raising her arms. The barber pulled the Blouse off and dropped it into the hamper followed by her bra. Her breasts moving a little bit from her breathing, then he moved behind Venus, reached forward, and seized her wrists. Venus yielded, as her hands were pulled back and tucked behind her head.
The barber pumped the hydraulic lever, raising the chair, lowered the backrest until it was parallel to the floor.
Venus looked up at the motionless blades of the ceiling fan directly above her. They were formed from some kind of rich yellow wood. Squinting, she could make out dual reflections of herself, distorted in the shiny metal that sheathed the tips of the blades.
Her concentration was broken as the barber lathered her armpits. She fought the urge to giggle. No base coat this time, just the musky lather. She heard the slappedy-whick of the razor and strop. Moments later the barber was behind the chair. Venus pulled her elbows back, tightening the skin of her armpits.
The barber grunted. Approval? Venus wasn’t sure. She pulled her elbows back even further. She barely felt the blade, although she caught sidelong glimpses of it as it swept through the lather. Two strokes on the left, Two on the right. Venus relaxed and turned her head from one side to the other.
Her armpits were as smooth as well-scooped melons.
When the barber finished shaving Venus’s breasts and belly, which didn’t have any hair on them by the way, he stripped her of her shoes and stockings and dropped them into the hamper. Then he undid her belt and pulled off her skirt and panties. Into the hamper, they went.
Venus sighed. Even if she tried resistance, what would be the point? She felt her legs being raised, separated, and coated from the ankles to the upper thighs with warm lather.
In long, straight swoops, the barber’s blade flashed again. Five swoops to a leg and two quick maneuvers around each knee finished it off.
It took less than a minute to lather and shave Venus’s pubic hair. Then the barber tipped her on her right side and patted her knees. Venus brought them up to her chest. The barber put the palm of his hand on Venus’s left hip and with his thumb separated the upper buttock from its twin. The shaving brush went swip-swap the length of the cleft. Seconds later the razor followed with silent precision.
The barber stepped away from the chair and eyed his handiwork. Not a spot of lather on Venus’s body. Except for her eyelashes and her nostrils hair, Venus was as hairless as an egg.
The barber dusted Venus with talcum powder, then lifted her from the chair and carried her to the back of the shop. There was a small metal door in the wall that Venus hadn’t noticed before. The barber set her down on her hands and knees in front of it.
The floor was colder than Venus anticipated, and a shiver ran through her. The barber unbolted the door and opened it, taking her by her waist, he got her down to some kind of laboratory, there was a barber chair there, but this one was black and had lots of things above it and to its sides, my sis started to get scared as the barber carried her to that chair.
“You tried to run, but it was futile, now you will have done to you what all the females in this town had before you,” he said, placing her in the chair, while two other women, our mother, and another younger girl, strapped her to the chair, placed a gag ball in her mouth and brought down a kind of helmet, placing it on above my sis shaved head, a gel was massaged all over her scalp, and then the helmet placed on it.
“Hope you like it,” the barber said as he pulled a lever on the wall, that was the last I heard from my sis on that day, but I remained with the barber, like if I was there.
“Did you enjoyed the show boy?” he asked, looking directly at me I was scared, I never knew that others could see me.
“No one else can,” he said, scaring me more “yes I can sense you and know what you think, know that I have powers similar to yours, and you better hurry, your training is about to begin, you’ll be my successor, so grab the letter that we sent, on the other side there is a ticket for you, come quickly” he ordered returning to his shop.
The barber walked to the sink and washed his hands with antiseptic soap. He dried them with a clean white towel, then shook talcum powder on them and rubbed them together briskly.
He turned to the other two women who’d come in while Venus was in the chair.
“Next,” he said. Both women looked up. A Fragile looking woman in the chair nearest the front door got to her feet.
“Umm..” she said, “I think that’s me”
The other woman went back to her reading.
The Fragile looking woman took a last glance at the magazine she’d been reading, stuck it in the rack by the door, and went over to the barber’s chair.
The barber adjusted the chair, then stepped back and raised an eyebrow.
The woman in the chair hesitated. She looked toward the shelf that held the bottles of hair tonic and rum, the stack of folded towels, the towel steamer, the soap dish, the container of antiseptic solution. She looked at the sign above the mirror.
“I know,” she said “it’s my turn now…” and she sighed, I got the ticket and made the trip to our town, not by the barber’s order but for taking my sis back…
To be Continued…
