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REBA	By : Eddie_Davidson Category: M through R > Reba Views: 4211 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the TV show Reba or anything associated with Reba McEntire and her likeness, I do not have any affilation with the TV show, this is a work of pure fanfiction. I do not earn any money from this.

Chapter List
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REBA
A FAN FICTION BASED ON THE TV SHOW “REBA”
Chapter Three

I tried to fall asleep that night but all I could think about was whatever freaky stuff Cheyenne was doing over there at her father’s house tonight with Barbara Jean. I was genuinely worried about them but after trying and failing to talk any sense into them I knew I had better leave it alone – at least until morning. I would only make them want to do it more if I protested TOO much about it. I went downstairs and got Carl Weathers – he was a gift after all and brought him back upstairs.
After a nice, meaningful conversation and some foreplay – who am I kidding, I went to town on myself and pounded one out hard for about twenty long minutes until I passed right out and curled up next to that dildo like it was the real Carl Weathers. I think I even dreamed about him in his prime taking me out for a nice moonlit drive and then fucking me like crazy.
The next morning was Saturday, and I smelled eggs, bacon and pancakes as I walked downstairs. That is fairly unexpected in my house because if it isn’t me cooking then you smell Cheyenne burning eggs and toast and people yelling “fire!” or “too much smoke!”. In case, you don’t get the picture Cheyenne cooks about as well as she spells and she doesn’t spell very well.
I was excited AND hungry – were my kids making breakfast for me? I dashed into the kitchen after clinching my robe tight only to see Duray cooking flapjacks on griddle and Barbara Jean and Cheyenne sitting naked at my kitchen table drinking coffee and talking.
“What in the name of Sam Hill is going on in here? I thought I made it clear,” I started to go off on Duray but he shushed me. I asked him “What do you mean shushing me? I do the shushing in my own house and this is my house. Do you understand me?”
I was shocked that they were once again naked in my home although I guess I shouldn’t have been. It looked like they had been up all night long and their hair was a mess, Barbara Jean’s make up had run down her face and they were all smiles and giggles.
“Little momma is spunky, and I like spunky,” Duray clearly didn’t ‘know what I was saying’ or if he did – he didn’t acknowledge it and that completely through me for a loop. He told me he wanted to apologize for last night and he wanted to make everything right. “I didn’t know you didn’t know where your kids was. I will be honest, my own mama wouldn’t want me hanging out with me, if you know what I am saying,” he added.
“Where is Van and Brock?” I noticed they weren’t in the room. That was until Barbara Jean pointed down to her feet where Brock was sucking on her toes on all fours. Van was doing the same as she fed him little pieces of pancake which he ate like they were the most satisfying and delicious morsels he ever had.
“I should have known you’d be crawling around,” I placed my hands on my hips and gave them my “Reba said enough is enough!” look even though it had seldom ever worked before.
“Sit down and have some breakfast then we’ll talk,” Duray said as he made a plate for me. It did look delicious, sausage, biscuits and gravy, fluffy eggs, flapjacks fresh off the griddle and some grits. He told me his mama taught him to make them and she’d be offended if I didn’t eat.
“This is nice and all in a pimp is at my house making me breakfast on Saturday morning kind of way, but I don’t really think we have anything to talk about,” I stood up to Duray.
“I said Sit down and have some breakfast, I aint talking twice,” he replied and I sat down for Duray.
“Fine, I’ll have a little breakfast,” I started to get nervous while I ate and chattered a little too much. “Cheyenne is a grown woman. If she wants to do things like this and Van is fine with it then more power to them. Brock and I aren’t married any longer and if this is what gets his rocks off with Barbara Jean as his hot wife,” I started to come to terms with the reality that they were actually doing this.
“I said eat and then we’ll talk,” Duray reminded me.
Barbara Jean whispered “He said he’ll talk after you eat, Reba” she repeated what I already knew and I gave her my usual evil eye when she says something stupid – which she ignored and went right on eating.
I found it awkward to eat in silence while my daughter and neighbor were both naked and their husbands were under the table licking and slurping on their toes. I wanted to know if Kyra and Jake were home and would they walk in on this. I also wanted to know why my daughter had two big piercings in her nipples now.
Barbara Jean noticed me staring and jiggled her own boobs and made a ringing sound as they jingled. “Now, when I say I’ll be there with bells on I can really mean it!” she smiled.
When did they have time to get these done? I had no idea. I whispered back to Barbara Jean that Duray said to eat and then talk and she nodded and told me okay – as if she didn’t realize I was being sarcastic by imitating how she just said the same thing to me.
When we finished eating I had a lot of things I wanted to say and get off my chest.
Duray didn’t let me get in a word edge wise. He stopped me before I could start talking and said “Look, you a nice lady. You a good lady. The world needs more ladies like you, you something special,” he said. I was flattered but confused with where he was going with all this.
“Babs and Shy-Shy, they like the D and the bump and grind and to get it it, get it it, you know what I am saying?” I had no idea what he was saying. I stopped him and asked who Babs and Shy-Shy were but I had an idea.
“I am Babs Jansen, Street Walker,” Barbara Jean proudly addressed herself by her weather girl name. Cheyenne was obviously “Shy-Shy”.
“Okay, and now everything else after what you just said, what does that mean?” I asked him seriously.
“What it means is that you aint like they are,” Duray said something I could agree with.
“I need a house mouse, to fill in the cracks and be the glue that keeps everything running, you know what I am saying? I need a bitch that knows how to run circles, a survivor, you know what I mean? With no paddle, you go upstream when everybody else can’t get downstream, know what I am saying?” Again I had no idea what he was saying. It sounded good and I knew it was about me but it was a bunch of street lingo and jibber jabber. Barbara Jean and Cheyenne nodded as if they understood.
“Whatever you are offering, I am not buying,” I thought that would make it clear as I pushed away my plate to make my point.
“I aint selling, you selling, you know what I mean? You down with the dirty and the dirty is down with you, know what I am saying?” at this point I was not sure if Duray even know what he meant.
I wanted to explain further but he pointed out that he was going to look out for Kyra and Jake and keep their noses clean, send them to college. “I run this house, I run that house, you in my house, we gonna have to have an understanding,” he told me. It sounded like a threat.
I told him that the last I checked my name was on the papers and I owned this house.
“Reba, I am sorry to tell you this but Duray kind of forced my hand, and I signed over my part of the house to him,” Brock said from the floor. I kicked him in his bare ass and he grunted and told me that was fair.
“How did he force your hand?” I asked.
Brock stuck a broken twisted finger out from under the table and said “He literally forced my hand,” and I wanted to laugh or cry. That hardly seemed legal but according to Brock the deed on my house was now partly owned by “Duray Entertainment Worldwide, inc.”
I depend on Brock’s payments to keep the house payments made along with my paycheck and according to Brock that would continue to happen all I had to do was “lighten up” with Duray.
“What on earth has gotten into you Brock that you would go along with all of this?” I was really worried now and I wasn’t even joking. He had just signed away my house note to a pimp.
“They dickmatized,” Duray tried to explain. I really didn’t want to know what he was saying – do you know what I am saying? Duray insisted on trying to tell me what he was saying even though I didn’t want to hear it.
“Dem’ girls, dey like that big black dick, and he like watching his girls happy, so he do anything for his girl, won’t you Brock?” Duray asked Brock.
“Yes Sir, I will,” Brock said with genuine fear in his voice. I kind of liked it.
I asked Duray why they wanted my house. There had to be plenty of other places this would work much easier. I can’t describe how he said it but what I understood was that this was the easiest way to avoid police. They are looking in bad neighborhoods and low income communities. This made it easier for the clients (tricks) to find the place and safer for them. It was like camouflage in the light of day because it looked completely normal outside. He also said that it made it easier to keep a few girls separated in smaller because they had a tendency to catfight when they were in larger groups and he hinted that my Cheyenne and Barbara Jean were instigators of the conflict – which I fully believed.
“So if Barbara Jean told you to go down to the bank and put the house in MY name, you would have?” I asked and implied I’d be happy to force his ‘other hand’ and break all of my ex-husband’s fingers if I had too. I was kidding of course – I don’t believe in violence although there have been many times I wanted to take a cast iron skillet to his head.
“Look, don’t start no thang, aint gonna be no thang, pretty momma, you do what you do, I do what I do, and we both gonna get what we need,” Duray was talking his gibberish again. He finally explained in pretty clear English that he’d sign the deed over to me fully once the house is paid off and all I had to do was not be uptight about his little parties. We agreed he’d have them mostly over at Brock’s house and that Jake and Kyra were not to be around those parties any longer.
That didn’t stop them from coming down to breakfast once they finally woke up. Jake and Kyra walked in as if it were perfectly normal to see their older sister and Barbara Jean completely naked. They didn’t even notice Van and Brock under the table as they approached Duray like an old family friend and said his cooking was the best they ever had.
I cleared my throat and waited for an apology or some acknowledgment for my cooking. Kyra and Jake looked at me and then back at Duray with their plate. I cleared my throat again and Kyra said “We heard you Mom. Your food is good too!”
Those little ungrateful shits!
I have to admit his biscuits were nice and buttery though.
“So when can I expect you two to put on some clothes?” I changed the subject and looked at Barbara Jean and Cheyenne expectantly. It was bad enough my son saw their boobies hanging out – but Lord only knows what they were leaving on my nice wooden chairs with their naked behinds.
“Tyrone said we can’t wear any clothes for a while because of the piercings,” Barbara Jean said of the metal hoops in her chest and rang them like jingle bills. Kyra and Jake smiled enthusiastically and watched as she shimmied for them and shook her massive tits.
“Okay, well what about bottoms though?” I suggested they at least where something around their waists for modesty sake. Obviously, Jake had already seen them naked but it seemed excessive to me.
“Well, we got piercings there too, Mom” Cheyenne admitted. I shut my eyes and thought to myself ‘please don’t stand up and show me, please don’t stand up and show me’ and naturally when I opened my eyes there was Cheyenne and Barbara Jean standing up at the kitchen table with their knees bent and their legs bowed showing me a matching, thick silvered hoop through their pussy lips.
Barbara Jean told me they were a matching pair of bangle earrings she had since the 1980s.
“Doesn’t that hurt?” I asked Cheyenne when I had a chance to finally see this big old hoop hanging down between her legs.
“It hurts to look this good,” Barbara Jean did a sexy little strut to and wiggled her hips as if to answer the question I was really asking Cheyenne.
Kyra told her older sister “That is actually pretty cool,” she was always something of a goth kid and generally disagreed with Cheyenne on every fashion choice.
“Don’t you go getting in your head that you want a piercing like that,” I warned her.
“Oh god no,” Kyra said and that was a relief until she added “I’d probably get a Maltese cross or like a Princess Albertina,” she said flatly. I had no idea what any of that was but I absolutely forbid it.
“Cheyenne, do you see what kind of influence you are on your little sister?” I warned Cheyenne.
“Don’t worry Mom, I don’t plan on being anything like Cheyenne,” Kyra started to skip past me after she ate a little food and left the plate. “She is a Cuckqueen and while I dig polyamory, I’d probably be more of a Submissive switch,” she left me in silence as she hopped out of the kitchen.
Jake sat down and surprisingly he ate his breakfast without looking up at the boobs in front of him very often.
“Jake, can I ask you how you are dealing with this? We didn’t get a chance to talk last night. I had no idea you were at that house and I am kind of surprised by your reaction,” I was waiting for him to comment.
He kept eating and he pointed to his mouth that it was full and chewed, and chewed and chewed. I waited for him to finish and then he finally said “It’s not a big deal. I’ve seen boobs before,” he looked up at Barbara Jean and Cheyenne almost apologetic for not being more impressed by their tits.
“Where was that?” I asked.
“Well, I’ve had Internet and a cell phone so since always, I guess” Jake admitted with a shrug, finished his orange juice and ran off to join his sister.
I was about to give everyone another big piece of my mind and try to talk some sense into Cheyenne. Barbara Jean wasn’t born with any sense and she sat there at the table smiling and enjoying my ex-husband smooching up and down her leg like a puppy. I can’t tell you how it makes me feel inside to see him lavish her with affection and make a fool of himself when he barely talked to me towards the end of our marriage.
It was strangely humiliating to watch and yet I couldn’t look away – like a train wreck.
The doorbell rang and Duray looked at his phone “Okay, who turn it is? Booty time! Sugar Hill baby, Sugar Hill, know what I am saying? Ooh! Ooh!” and everyone got up excitedly from the table and went to the door. I had no idea what they were saying.
Barbara Jean said it was her turn and she and waddled over to my front door completely naked except for a bedazzled pink collar and a pair of black pumps. Cheyenne shrugged and sat down on the couch and pointed at the floor for Van to join her at her feet. Van followed Barbara Jean like an eager puppy to see who is at the door.
Barbara Jean opened my front door wide – without regard for who could see her completely naked body. I thought she was just going to open it a crack but she never does anything just a crack – she does it full ass.
This big older gentleman in a cowboy hat walked in wearing a nice looking suit like he just stepped off a Dude Ranch. He had a Bolero tie and some fancy boots. It looked completely out of place but from where I am from that was considered “Fancy”.
“Well, you look prettier than your picture,” He seemed impressed with Barbara Jean and ignored Brock who was standing in just his cock cage and a matching pair of black heels.
“Thank you, this here is Brock my husband, and this is Reba his ex-wife, and this is Cheyenne her daughter, and this is Van her husband and Dura our pimp,” Barbara Jean introduced him with a bright and cheery disposition like this was all perfectly normal on a Saturday morning.
“Pleasure,” the Cowboy tipped his hat. I was the only one red-faced embarrassed.
“Do you have the donation of roses, sugar-cane?” Barbara Jean leaned into the man and pulled him by his bolero and gave him a smooch. He slapped down three hundred dollars on the table but never handed it to her. “This gonna be enough?” he asked.
“It is a good start but it depends on if you want everything or just the main course, baby?” Barbara Jean cooed and cuddled with him and he slapped down two hundred more and said he wanted everything. She literally tugged him by his bolero and went upstairs. I shouted “Not my room!” as she disappeared.
“Was that what I think it was?” I asked Cheyenne. I didn’t want an answer – I knew what it was.
“Yep, that man just paid Barbara Jean for sex,” Cheyenne admitted and told me not to worry they would be doing it in her and Van’s room.
“Technically, he left a donation on the table and Barbara did it without being paid,” Brock clarified as Duray pocketed all of the money.
“I can see who got paid,” I glared at Duray and then asked Brock “I thought she was like a Dominant Mistress? Is she going to slap him around like she smacks you around?”
“Oh no, she is submissive in the bedroom. He’ll probably fuck her in all three holes, and then treat her like a cum rag and afterwards I’ll come eat her out and clean her up, and provide a little after care snuggles,” Brock seemed excited about cleaning up after another man – which blew my mind and made my spine shiver in disgust.
“This is what you do too, Cheyenne?” I asked my daughter.
“No,” Cheyenne shook her head with disgust. That made me feel just a tiny bit better until she explained. “I generally don’t do older white guys. I am BBC only, so mostly its gang bangs or rough stuff. I got a couple regulars who are into some weird shit though, fetish stuff, cake-sitting, squishing, wrestling, ball kicking, but hardly any whips and chains or old fashioned stuff like Barbara Jean,” she said as if this were a perfectly normal conversation to be having with her mother.
I was about to protest and certainly forbid them from turning my home into a house of ill repute. “Look here, I am not Dolly Parton, and I don’t run the best little whore house in Texas!” I was about to make a funny joke when the doorbell rang again.
“Who dat is? Po-Po?” Duray looked nervous and checked his phone.
Cheyenne opened the door – this time not quite as wide as Barbara Jean had but still wide enough that the guys on the other side could see her naked body. There were two older gentlemen dressed in suits very similar to the last man.
“You are here for Barbara Jean?” my daughter asked them and when they nodded she asked them to leave their donations on the table. They both slapped down three hundred and Cheyenne held up five fingers. They didn’t hesitate to put two hundred more down each and then with that they tipped their hat to us and she told them “First door on the right, upstairs”
“Cheyenne!” I demanded she take me seriously now. “Your sister is upstairs!!” I reminded her that she just let two strangers walk unescorted upstairs.
“Yeah, but her door is on the left,” Cheyenne shrugged and checked her own phone as she plopped on the couch next to Van and told him to “Rub, don’t lick,” and pouted. Van dutifully began to massage his wife’s calves.
I have to admit – a deep calf massage would have felt good. I was still stunned though by the blatant disregard for any sort of modesty that was happening right now and donations or not – I didn’t want this happening in my house. I was going to put my foot down and Duray was the one I needed to do it with.
My Mama always told me you have to cut the head off the snake to kill it. I couldn’t talk sense into anybody else so I went over to Duray who was snapchatting with one of his other girls and laughing. He told her “I’ll hit you back later, my main red-headed mama and me going to have a little pow-wow,” and closed his phone.
“Listen here,” I started and Duray pulled out two hundred dollars and stuck it in my shirt pocket. I stopped for a moment and continued that this wasn’t about money at all. He stuck three hundred more dollars in my pocket.
I have to admit – 500 dollars was pretty nice. Kyra needed braces, Jake needed a college fund and I wanted to own my house outright free and clear. “You get a third of the donations and don’t take nothing else for yourself and we are in business sweet-cheeks, I’ll even come over and make biscuits for you now and then,” he promised.
I have to admit – every single moral fiber in my body told me this wrong on every level. I am no perfect person and I try to learn to live with my mistakes and learn from them every day. I knew this was a mistake but at the same time I felt like I was entitled to one. “You take your name off my deed and we may have ourselves our deal,” I said shrewdly and Duray gave me the most confusing handshake of shucking and jiving fingers I’ve ever tried to do.
Kyra came down stairs and I sighed a breath of relief – I had worried that the men upstairs may have accidentally thought she was part of the deal around here. I hadn’t factored in what I would do about her and Jake if this was going to continue at my house. I asked “Just how often are we talking about having things like this here?”
As if on cue the doorbell rang and Kyra went to get the door. I said I would get it first because I was worried it was another perverted customer but Cheyenne stood up and said it was probably for her anyway. She opened the door and in walked what I assumed was the entire defensive line up of the 1980s Chicago Bears.
There were so many big black men that I could barely count and Kyra’s jaw dropped but Cheyenne just smiled and addressed them by name. Some she didn’t know “Okay, and which one are you? Tyrone? We already have a Tyrone, okay what is your street name then? Tyrone is your street name? Okay, what about Tyrone 2?” she greeted each one and they each dropped a hundred dollars on the table.
Some dropped twenties, a few dropped hundred dollar bills, and one guy even “made it rain” with one dollar bills. I had no idea if anyone shorted me because they went so quickly and with that they literally carried Cheyenne upstairs on their shoulder and she smiled and put her thumb up. “Sis, don’t come in your room for about an hour,” she said.
Kyra made a disgusted face and shrugged. She was wearing her shirt with the caption “Whatever!” t and that matched her attitude perfectly right now.
“Oh my god, what was that?” I asked.
“Twenty Seven hundred dollars is what that was,” Duray said with a happy smile and sat back in his chair. “You better count it, as long as I get eighteen hundred, you get the rest and we aint gonna have no trouble,”
“You know what this means, mom?” Kyra asked me with a shocked look on her face. I knew what it meant – it meant I was running a bordello and her sister was working in it.
“it means SHOPPING!!!” Kyra jumped up and down excitedly thinking about the what she could buy at the mall with her sister’s earnings.
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REBA