Chapter 4

Six months later...

“Mom, isn’t it time that you forgave me for mind-controlling you guys? Daddy already did. So did Barbara Jean, at least I think so. I mean, really, I was basically under the influence of Eugene, though I admit that my own anger was a factor as well,” Kyra pleaded with her mother while having to rub her down.

“Oh, alright, but no more shenanigans, okay? You’re still my baby girl, you know that! But ... you also know that you and I are a lot alike! Too much alike in some ways. Smart, tough, stubborn, even hot headed at times. We fly off the handle, you and me,” Reba admitted, even as she enjoyed the massage.

“We do ... and we also love ... kinky things ... and hate that we love them. We feel guilty about being so naughty or wanton, especially since we tend to judge others for it,” Kyra pointed out.

“And we’re also very sarcastic smart-asses, and you know that’s a fact,” Reba added.

“I’m still not convinced that Barbara Jean was ever properly hypnotized. I didn’t have that much access to her to do so. Same with Dad. Hard to say for sure ... but she gave in rather quickly, and so did he. As for Eugene, well, we saw what happened there. No mind control needed. It was this or jail time, buddy. I wonder if he wishes that he’d opted for jail,” Kyra laughed while watching Eugene suck Cheyenne’s toes from the other room.

“Yeah, I think that Barbara Jean is easily influenced and also likes to play the victim a bit. She’s kind of a dumb-ass and never wants to admit that she’s wrong about things. It took her forever to realize that she broke up my marriage to your Dad, though it was on life-support, anyway. Barbara Jean envies me the fact that I feel less guilt because I was mind-controlled,” Reba noted.

“Hell, I envy you that fact, too, but I don’t resent you for that. It was my fault. In a way, though, I did you a slight favor. You mentioned less guilt. Think about it. It’s what I call the ‘absolution effect.’ Being mind-controlled absolves you, in effect, of any sins that you commit while hypnotized. It’s not your fault, so on some level, you can just relax and enjoy it.

“Barbara Jean really wants that, because she’s such a Jesus Freak, even now, that she feels extreme guilt over things like letting Cheyenne suck her tits and letting Van fuck her right after Brock. The absolution effect from hypnosis would let her off the hook,” Kyra explained her attitude about things of that sort.

“You mean the fact that she can pull a train on Saturday night, and then limp into church the next morning, praising Jesus? Or the fact that she got knocked up by another woman’s husband and married him after his divorce? Yeah, those are pretty big sins, I’d say. It would be tough for a really devout Christian to reconcile them with their beliefs.

“What’s that phrase... ‘cognitive dissonance,’ right? That seems to fit here. Barbara Jean on one level thinks that what we do is fun and cool, even hip or whatever ... but on the other hand, she’s worried that she’ll go to Hell when she dies because of it. She knows that Jesus wouldn’t approve of it. Both beliefs go on inside her head, which would be more impressive if it didn’t already have plenty of empty space to hold them,” Reba wise-cracked at the end of an otherwise serious answer.

“Mom, when did you get so smart about psychology?” Kyra asked Reba.

“When I became ‘Mom,’ of course. Moms are not even amateur shrinks. We’re damn near pros after about the third or fourth kid, trust me. Now, even though I feel guilty as fuck, I’m also horny. Aren’t you? Let’s admit this much ... we’re both ... very touchy about having the hots for each other, but we do. I was very reluctant to accept that I want to do bad things with my daughters, but I do. So ... we gonna fuck or not?” Reba asked her daughter now.

“I’ll get the strap-on ... who’s on top this time?” Kyra asked her mother.

“Surprise me!” Reba half-seriously suggested.

Kyra grabbed the strap-on and thigh harness, even while snickering at the way that even Van was allowed to bugger Eugene these days. Brock’s rival didn’t like what Van did to him right then, especially since it meant that Brock had already sodomized him while he sucked Cheyenne’s toes. On the other hand, he was the main culprit behind the hypnosis and the alternative was still jail-time. The fact that he now had to lick Cheyenne’s butt-crack while Van plowed him didn’t exactly help things.

“I’m not sure what you’re complaining about, Eugene ... Cheyenne’s ass is yummy and you know it!” Van insisted, wanting to drag this out a bit to avoid the same kind of cock cage that poor Eugene wore even now.

“Yeah, my ass is tasty ... Van knows from licking up all of the creampies from it and my pussy!” Cheyenne agreed quickly with her hubby, thrilled that he ravaged a man who still had to rim her booty.

“What in the name of God is happening now?” Lori Ann Garner’s voice jolted everywhere, even Reba, who was in the middle of moving the strap-on in and out of Kyra’s butt.

“Lori Ann, I can explain ... just lie down for a moment, will ya? Trust me. This will all make a lot of sense if you just lie down,” Brock told Reba’s long-lost friend, who had just come back to town.

“Why would I lie down? So you can rape me?” Lori Ann asked Brock, “you’re always such a pig.”

“Insults won’t help with your issues,” Barbara Jean interjected now as she sucked Brock’s cock.

“Issues? I’m not the one being sucked off by his second wife while his son-in-law is butt-fucking another guy and making her lick his own wife’s ass! Not to mention that I can see Reba sodomizing her younger daughter!” Lori Ann snapped.

“Okay, don’t trust Brock, but trust me,” Jake, now of age as of the past month, suggested to Lori Ann.

“Jake, what’s going on here?” Lori Ann asked him.

“Well, I have a technique that can really help you. Hypnosis. We’ll figure out what’s going on with you. We’ll get to the root of your issues with Brock. Don’t you want answers?” Jake smiled as he poured a seltzer water for Lori Ann.

“Okay, I’ll bite, but only because it’s you. You’re still a pig, but a younger, nicer, smarter pig,” Lori Ann warmed up to Jake, not seeing him as a threat.

“Alright now, Ms. Garner. Focus on the timepiece. You’re getting very sleepy now. Very sleepy. You’re falling into a deep slumber. Now, when I snap my fingers, you’ll be wide-awake, you won’t remember what I told you, but you will do as you’re instructed. There we go. Attagirl.

“Now, Ms. Garner, take a deep breath. Yes, that’s good. A very deep breath. Now, when someone says, ‘amen,’ from now on, you’ll strip naked and streak everywhere. If someone says, ‘men are pigs,’ you’ll drop to your knees and suck the closest dick that you can find. You won’t scrape or bite that cock. You’ll be very careful with your teeth. You’ll never spit it out, either. You’ll always swallow the load. Always swallow it. Every last drop. If any cum gets on your lips, lick it off. Same with your chin.

“If someone says, ‘girl power,’ you’ll drop to your knees and eat out the nearest pussy that you can find. If someone says, ‘kiss my ass,’ you’ll literally do that. You’ll kiss and lick that person’s butt. If someone calls you a bitch, you must get on all fours, run, bark like a dog, and sniff people’s crotches. If someone repeats any of these phrases, you’ll instantly stop that behavior for the moment and return to your normal, human conduct.

“Furthermore, you’ll continue to be annoyed by what you see happening in this house, but you won’t do anything to actually interfere with it. You won’t call the cops. You won’t call for people to take anyone away or into custody. You’ll simply watch in frustration and resignation, accepting that you don’t like it, but can’t interfere with it. Are we clear on this?” Jake asked her.

“Yes, of course,” Lori Ann agreed now.

“Attagirl. Now, last, but not least. I, Jake Hart, am now your boyfriend. You will accept this. You might not like it, but you’ll accept that you have a teenage boyfriend. As such, I’ll expect you to suck my dick and let me fuck your holes. You’ll hand over all of your panties to me, too. From now on, you won’t need them anymore. You’ll go commando and wear only fishnet stockings, tank tops, and miniskirts for the rest of your life.