Barber Shop Whore, Part 1

By wetfly6969

(MMf, M+f, Pedophilia, Consensual, Reluctant, Coercion,
Drunk/Drugged, Incest, Rough, Gang Bang, Interracial, Black Male,
White Female, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Cream Pie, Prostitution)

~~~

Walter stood at the glass door staring at the traffic inching its
way to the freeway.  The neighborhood's changed quite a bit since
their father opened the shop and he shook his head watching the
patrons entering the new porno multiplex across the street. There
used to be a deli and a hardware store there a few years ago, but
those days are long gone.

He sighed.  Only one customer since they opened six hours ago and
soon they would be joining the ranks of the mom and pop delis and
hardware stores unless something can be done to ebb the tide.

Their father had been a barber his entire life and opened at this
strip-mall twenty-two years ago with great success.  At one time
he had five other men working with him just to keep up with the
clients.  That all changed about six years ago when they opened
the national chain of hair salons on the corner.

He kept a few loyal customers, but little by little, most left.
Soon it was just their father and his long time friend left
cutting hair.  Three years ago, the Albert retired, leaving Stan
to run the shop alone.  It didn't matter much as he was only
having about ten clients per day, enough for him to handle alone.

It wasn't diagnosed correctly.  Stan was only 53 and was too
young to be experiencing the effects of aging.  He still looked
the same and spoke the same, but he was getting forgetful and at
times disorientated.  Everyone was worried, but he refused to
seek help and continued working every day, just as he had for
nearly 40 years.  The progression took them all by surprise.

The business suffered as the rapid onset of his condition
affected his work.  Many people around the community coined the
barber shop "the butcher shop" referring to the hack jobs they
were getting.  Walter and George wanted to help him, but he
refused, pushing them away until it was too late.  The damage had
been done.

"Maybe we can hire someone to stand outside on the side of the
road with a sign," he heard his brother suggest from the back of
the store.  He was sitting in the last chair reading the
newspaper and seemed excited to have this revelation.

Turning to see him gawking at him from over the paper, he shook
his head.  They have tried many things to get customers back but
still haven't managed to get more than one or two clients per
day.  That won't even pay for the electricity let alone any of
the other bills.

"We can't afford to hire anyone right now.  If you want to shake
a sign out there, knock yourself out."

"I'm just saying it might work.  You never know `til you try it,
right?"

George was five years younger and not what you'd call the
brightest bulb in the box, but he means well.  The car pulling
into the parking spot near the door brought his attention back
outside and his spirits rose with the possibility of another
customer.

Watching with hopeful anticipation, he felt disheartened as the
man went next door to the liquor store.  Shaking his head he
looked beyond the new arrive to the whore plying her trade across
the street in front of the multiplex.  The neighborhood has
really gone downhill these past few years.

He thought about the Asian massage parlor just on the other side
of the billiards hall next to them that the cops closed down
about a month ago.  It was a big fiasco with the parking lot
filled with police cars, the DEA, and ICE going in and out of the
place.  Six scantily dressed Asian women were brought out in hand
cuffs followed by the older fat Asian woman he assumed was the
madam.

"We can run another ad in the paper.  That helped last time,"
George suggested.

"I already went over that with you.  It didn't pay for itself.
The few extra clients we got hardly covered the cost for one week
and we ran it for a month."

"I'm just thinking out loud," he added hearing the irritation in
his brother's voice.  He knew of the problems and was just as
concerned as Walter.  He had quit his job as the over night
custodian at the Galleria to go to barber college.  Neither of
them wanted to follow in their father's footsteps to become a
barber, but it was his last request.

Walter took time off as the marketing director for an
international firm to help his father when he became ill.  The
stress and financial burden it caused wrecked his marriage and
his wife of ten years called it quits.  She couldn't bear to be
around her bitter, hardened husband any longer.  On his death
bed, Stan brought his two sons together and made them promise not
to let his life's dream end.

They begged Albert to return while they went to college to get
their license.  Hesitantly he agreed and nine months later, they
passed the state exam and were ready to work.  No one was happier
than the old man as he was now able to return to his retirement.
Borrowing forty thousand dollars to renovate and modernize the
shop, they spent the next month closed while they made the
transformation.  That was three months ago.

Sighing, Walter walked back to the chairs and grabbed the sports
section to reread it for the third time.  The clanging of the cow
bell turned his attention to the door with anticipation.  He was
disappointed to see it was George's obnoxious foster daughter
Lindsey.

Draped with an oversized beach towel, she made her way quickly
toward the bathroom at the back of the shop.  "I gotta pee," she
crudely announced darting through the curtained doorway.

Walter couldn't help but notice the long slender legs sticking
out below the towel as she disappeared.  "Lindsey's getting
tall," he stated the obvious.

"Yea, she's already outgrowing everything we bought her for
Christmas.  Puberty kicked in last summer and she ain't stop
growing yet."

"She's almost a teenager, right?"

 " Yea, in about two months," he replied letting out a deep sigh.

"God how time flies.  She's been with you, what, two or three
years now?"

"Last month was three years."

"And she's got such a pretty face.  In a few years you'll be
chasing the boys off with a stick."

"It won't be that long, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?"

"I had to nail her window closed last week."

"Nail it closed?  Why?"

"She kept sneaking out late at night and two weeks ago, I caught
her with a boy in her room with his shirt off."

"WHAT?  Are you serious?"

"Yea, I'm afraid so."

"What were they doing?"

"Just sitting on her bed, but he had his arm around her and I
think they were kissing."

"How old was this boy?"

"I not sure, fifteen, maybe sixteen or so."

"Oh my God, George, you have a major problem on your hands."

"Yea, I'm afraid you're right.  I was hoping the stuff from her
past wouldn't affect her, but looks like I'm gunna have to deal
with that a lot sooner than I wanted to.  She stopped going to
therapy last year and hasn't really been acting right since then.
 And even worse was the Altoids tin I found in her drawer with
three hand-rolled cigarettes.  I think it was marijuana."

"Marijuana?  Are you sure?  What did you do with them?"

"I flushed them and told her I never wanted to see her with stuff
like that ever again."

The men stopped talking as Lindsey returned, carrying the beach
towel bunched around her neck.  Walter's eyes bulged as he saw
the skimpy bikini she was wearing and he couldn't pull his eyes
away from her.

"Did you have fun at Vicky's?"

"Yea, I guess," she responded making her way through the shop.

"You wanna call your mom to pick you up?"

"You mean your *wife*?" she replied snidely.

"Come on, Lindsey, we've talked about this before.  She's your
mother and I'm your father."

"My momma's in jail and you ain't my *real* father.  I never met
him."

George looked at Walter with a worried expression.  He never was
a strong man and this girl was walking all over him and Terry.
Soon she's telling them what to do, or at least not obeying them.
 He knew she had issues, but wasn't sure how extensive they were.

"Lindsey, you need to show me some respect.  You know I don't
like it when you talk to me that way and yesterday you made your
mother cry when you said those mean things to her."

"So," she replied flopping in the row of chairs opposite of the
men, crossing her arms across her chest.  "Like I care."

Walter tried not to look at her but she was blooming into quite a
beautiful young, uh, lady, despite her attitude.  She slumped
into the chair, stretching her legs outward and wedging her ultra
small blue bikini bottoms tightly against her crotch.  He caught
himself looking at the crease her pussy was making and tried not
to stare.

Unconsciously he licked his lips, wondering... `no, that's not
right.  She's too young!'  He looked away but soon found his
stare returning.  It had been over two years since his wife
divorced him and with school and the business, he hadn't had time
to date, not that he really wanted to.  Women are a pain in the
ass and it would be a lot cheaper in the long run to just use a
prostitute whenever the urge struck.

"Umh, Lindsey, did you bring any other clothes to wear?" George
asked.

"Hel~lo?? I went *swimming*, you wear a *bathing suit* when you
*swim*," she quipped, rolling her eyes. Walter glanced quickly
toward his younger brother to see what his response would be. 
Not having any children of his own, he felt fairly confident that
he would never allow his daughter to speak to him that way,
especially with the tone she used.  George, as usual, coward in
his seat, not reacting to or disciplining her.

"Uh, George, why don't you call Terry and have her pick Lindsey
up," Walter suggested with a grumble.  He didn't care for her
attitude and the way she was dressed would surely cause a
disruption if a client did happen to come in.

Turning back to the wayward girl, Walter looked into her defiant
eyes with a scowl.  She smirked, parting her legs and giggling as
his stare automatically drifted lower.  His eyes widened noticing
the thin material creating a deep camel toe between her legs.
Realizing his intense stare, he glanced upward, noticing her smug
expression at catching him looking at her sexy young body.

Not wanting to react to her overt sexuality, he cringed, feeling
his cock surging, swelling in the tight confines of his slacks.
"George, call Terry," he repeated with urgency.  Not so much
because of her attitude, or her attire, but he was more afraid of
what might happen if she remained.  It's been a very long time
since he's been with a woman, even if she is only
thirteen-years-old, well almost thirteen.

Her eyes follow George as he walked to the counter to use the
shop phone.  He had to turn off the family cell phones months ago
as it became too expensive.  Lindsey responded hostilely as she
lost her phone privileges and threatened to run away and actually
stayed some place for two days.

Heaving a heavy sigh, she walked to the entrance, leaning against
the push bar to look out, groaning loudly to display her boredom.
 A young man passing the entrance stopped, looked in but
continued walking to the liquor store.  Another car parked in
front of the shop and the driver approached the doorway, staring
at Lindsey.  The cow bell rang out as he pulled the door open.

"Welcome," Walter called out standing to greet the new comer.
"You need your hair cut?"

The man's eyes never left Lindsey and Walter felt unsettled
watching the man smiling down at this young niece.  "You give
massages here?" he asked.

"No," he responded waving his hand across the room.  "Barber
shop.  We cut hair."

"Do you offer any other, uhm, services?" he asked smiling at the
underdressed girl.

"No, sorry, just cut hair," he replied standing to greet him.
"You need a trim?"

Facing Walter for the first time, he frowned.  "No, what I need
you don't seem to offer," he replied turning once again to
Lindsey, letting his eyes take in her youthful beauty.  "Too
bad," he added turning to leave.

He watched as the man headed to the liquor store and disappeared
from his sight.  Looking back at the smug expression on her face,
he shook his head.  She actually enjoyed getting attention from
the older, brass man and seemed to revel in the knowledge that he
wanted to have sex with her.

Walter couldn't blame him.  She had that certain look that girls
get when they're exposed to sex too early and with her sandy
blond hair, hazel eyes and smooth, tanned skin, she seemed to
flaunt it even further.  He watched as she returned to the
doorway to stare outside once again.

From the back she looked older, maybe fifteen or sixteen with a
nice bubble butt that hugged the thin bikini bottoms as if they
were painted on.  Her waist concaved into an hourglass shape and
she was just thin enough to show the pattern of her spin under
her olive skin.

"What was that all about?" George asked hanging up the phone.

"Just some guy looking for the massage parlor."

"Oh,"  The ringing of the bell signaled another client entering
and both men turned to see the white-haired man standing at the
threshold talking to Lindsey.

"Can we help you?" George called out smiling at the older,
slightly over-weight man.

Lindsey stepped aside as the man brushed past her smiling.  "How
much for this one?" he asked taking a quick glance her way.

"What do you mean?" George asked unsure exactly what he was
talking about.

"We only cut hair here," Walter spoke up moving closer to the man
watching as his gaze returned to the girl.

"Funny, but it don't look that way to me.  Looks like you're
advertising something else or why would you put a half naked slut
in the window?"

"She's waiting for her mother!" George blurted out moving to get
Lindsey's towel.  "Cover yourself!" he said taking it to her.
"And she's *NOT* a slut!"

"One-fifty," the man boldly stated watching as he draped the
blanket-sized beach towel over her.

"My daughter's not a whore!" George screamed pulling her away
from him.  Walter noticed her smiling as he took her past the
sheet leading to the back room.

"Alight, two hundred, but it's gotta be for a full hour," he
added speaking directly to Walter for the first time.  "And I get
to do *whatever* I want to her."

"Sorry, you heard him.  She's not a whore."  The man was slightly
taller than himself and weighed a good fifty pounds more, but
Walter was sure he could take him if things turned ugly.

"Then you should keep the little whore away from the windows or
someone will get the wrong idea!" he spat turning to leave,
firmly pushing at the door in his departure.  He mumbled
something that Walter didn't hear, but knew it wasn't good.

"The nerve of that guy!" George angrily stated jerking the sheet
away as he entered.  "I should call the cops on him for
soliciting a minor."

"Calm down, George.  He's right you know.  She was standing at
the door as if she was selling something so you can't blame him,
especially in this neighborhood where half the girls are turning
tricks one way or another."

"You're defending him?"

"No, just saying that I can't blame him.  She is a very sexy girl
and the way she's dressed could led someone to think she was a
working girl."

"I don't like it!"

"I didn't say you had to.  I'm just saying that's life.  If it
looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it must be a duck."

"What does that even mean, Walter?"

He looked at the incensed expression on his face and decided to
drop it.  No sense in getting him all upset over this.  Besides,
he'll need a little more time to plan everything out, but he's
got an idea to save the business and maybe put some spending cash
into their pockets, but he'll have to think of a way to make it
happen.

"School's out for the summer soon, isn't it?" Walter asked
sitting in the barber chair reaching for the paper.

"Yea, Thursday is the last day."

"You got any plans for Lindsey?  I mean like summer school or
summer camp or anything?  She's going to be off of school for
about three months with nothing to do.  You know what they say,
idle hands make for devils work."

"Terry and I talked about it and we're trying to get her brother
and his wife to take her for a while out on the farm.  She can
help out doing chores and things."

"I see.  Have you talked to her about this?"

"Sorta.  She heard us talking `bout it." B "What was her
reaction?"

"She said she's not going and she'll run away if we try and make
her.  She's threatened to run away several times before, and
sometimes Bshe'll leave for a day or two, but she always comes
home."

"What would happen if one day she didn't?"

"I dunno, why?"

"I'm just saying she's getting to the age where she's wanting
more independence and freedom and she's stubborn enough to do
something like that if she's pissed off enough."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm just saying maybe you should look for something she likes to
do and let her do it over the summer.  Keep her busy and out of
trouble, maybe make some spending money."

"Like what?"

"I'm not sure, I'll have to give it some thought, but I've got a
few days to think of something and I think it will benefit all of
us."

"What do you have in mind?"

"In due time, my brother, in due time.  I`ll let you know as soon
as I put it all together."

The horn blowing outside turned their attention to the old Dodge
van parked in front of the shop.  "Lindsey, your mother's here to
pick you up!" George called out toward the back.  Moments later
the curtain jerked aside and Lindsey stepped through.

"She ain't my mother!" she spat marching past them to the door.

Walter waited until the cow bell silence before turning to his
brother.  "She's a real firecracker," he said returning to the
paper.

"Yea, I just hope no one's around when she finally explodes."

Smiling, he watched as she climbed into the front seat, showing
her perky little ass out toward the parking lot.  A man heading
toward the liquor store tripped over the wheel stop as he was
staring at her sliding into the van.

`Very soon, Lindsey, you'll get what's coming to you very soon,'
he whispered under his breath.

***

"How was work?" Terrance asked as Walter slammed the door.

"The same as usual."

"I still don't see why you agreed to take over that lame barber
shop.  Seems pretty stupid."

"Yea, I have to agree with you.  At the time it seemed like a
good idea, but in hindsight, it's pretty stupid.  I wouldn't have
if it wasn't for my old man asking me to keep it opened.  He
spent his entire life working cutting hair and didn't want to see
all of his efforts go to waste.  I had hoped to fix it up and
sell it but it hasn't worked out that way.  I went from making
over sixty thou a year to hardly having enough money for bus
fare."

"Since you brought it up, how 'bout paying me what you owe me.
For the past six weeks I've been loaning you money and paid your
half of all the bills this month.  When am I going to see my
money?"

"I know, I'm sorry, but I'm working on something really big down
at the shop.  It should take care of all our money problems," he
said grabbing a beer.

"Really?  Sounds good.  What is it?"

"You remember my brother's foster kid, Lindsey?" he asked
twisting the top from the bottle.

"Yea, I met her once, why?"

"She's had a pretty fucked up life and George has been dealing
with it lately.  She's been a burden on his family and he wants
her to start pulling her weight to help out.  He's offered to
share the money with me if I help him to pull it off.  I know
you've had some dealing with doing stuff like this, so I'm
offering to include you in, if you're willing."

"What is it?"

"She's very high strung and rebellious and needs to be put into
her place before this will work.  We need something to make her
understand what is expected and to secure her cooperation."

"Cooperation in what?"

Chuckling, he set the bottle down, looking directly at Terrance.
"George has this crazy idea to rent her out."

"Rent her out?  Whatcha mean by that?"

"Come on, Terrance.  I know you did time for pandering."

"That was a long time ago.  I don't mess with that any more."

"It's good money, right?"

"Yea, but it ain't worth the headaches."

"You could be like an adviser.  Not really directly involved and
we'll pay you a consultant fee for your help.  Plus all the pussy
you want.  We need this to work without a hitch."

"How much are you talkin'?"

"How does five percent sound?"

"Ten sounds better."

"Alright.  Ten percent, but you've got to help make this work.
One thing goes wrong and we're all screwed."

"You need a hook.  Something you have that she wants.  Get that
hook and you'll control her."

"What kind of hook are you talking about?"

"The most effective way is to get her on drugs.  You know
something like heroin, crack, coke, or meth."

"George says she likes to smoke pot so it shouldn't be much to
move her to another level," Walter said smiling.  "But how?  You
can't just walk up to her and say `here try this'."

"Slip it to her in something.  I got this guy that grows some
kick-ass pot, specially grown to make it stronger.  For a special
price, he'll dust the leaves in whatever you want, like heroin.
Makes a killer smoke."

"Will she get addicted to the other drug by smoking it with pot?"

"Yea, it just might take a little longer `cause the dose is
lower, but she'll get hooked just the same."

"Set it up, I'll bring her over tomorrow for a visit.  She'll be
happy to get pot because George flushed hers.  Make sure your guy
doubles up on the dose, we're in a hurry."

Smiling, Terrance reached for the phone.  "You're sure `bout
this?"

"Yes.  It's got to be done or we're doomed."

"It's gunna be a long, hard road for her once she starts
trickin'.  She might not come outta it very good.  You know, a
used up street whore after a while."

"I don't really care.  She's not *really* my niece and she keeps
threatening to run away.  One day she will and we'll be left with
nothing.  We need to strike the iron while it's hot."

"You mean fuck the whore while *she's* hot," Terrance said
smiling.  Both men laughed before Terrance pulled out his cell.
He knew just what she needed to get her ready to start the game.

~~~

~ end of part 1
       
----> Here's a link to my other stories...
/files/Authors/wetfly6969/STORIES/