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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 Four

Duray left shortly after my daughter did. An hour or later Barbara Jean came down my stairs with the three men that had just fucked and plucked her upstairs in my daughter’s bedroom.
She was still naked and dripping cum down her legs. Her hair and makeup were completely fucked up much more than when she was at breakfast and I had never seen her with a hair out of place. She was all smiles and walking slowly with the help of the men as they led her back downstairs.
“Thank you Ma’am, when we are in town again we’ll look you and your sister up,” one of the men winked at me.
I wanted to tell him I wasn’t her sister but he didn’t seem to care and he was leaving anyway.
“Wow, that was amazing!” Barbara Jean looked like her head was spinning and she had just rode every rollercoaster at the fair three times.
“You are dripping all over my carpet, Barbara Jean!” I complained about the cum dripping down her leg and she pointed and told Brock to lick it up – which he did.
I was disgusted but somehow not surprised – not after what had just happened. She grabbed my ex-husband lustily by his collar and led him upstairs to ‘clean her up’ after he finished obeying her.
I turned around and there was Jake standing behind me. I wasn’t’ sure how much he had just seen. I had already sent his sister to the mall with her friends and several hundred dollars as a bit of a bribe to not have to see her for the rest of the day.
“Hey Mom,” he shrugged.
“Hey baby, this is weird I know,” I admitted.
“Yeah, it’s weird that Kyra got three hundred dollars and to go to the mall and look at that television over there, do you see a Playstation 4? I don’t. It’s very weird,” Jake implied I needed to buy him a Playstation 4.
“Well, your sister needed some new clothes and I am not so sure with your grades this year that really ought to be spending so much time with the vidya games,” I know I sound like a hillbilly all the time but most of all when I am getting flustered and nervous.
“You are right, Mom! I think I’ll hang out here all afternoon. I can greet Cheyanne and Barbara Jean’s special friends, and hang out and study,” Jake made it very clear that he was being sarcastic.
I reached in my shirt pocket and counted out three hundred dollars for him just like I had Cheyenne. I told him to take Brock and Barbara Jean’s son Henry with him. He didn’t like the kid tagging along but he would let him for a Play Station.
“Uh, Mom? That would barely cover the system, I’ll need a few games too!” Jake insisted.
I told him not to push his luck but I had priced the things before and frankly they seemed way to expensive for any normal person to afford. I guess I wasn’t a normal person anymore so I pushed two hundred more dollars in his hands and told him not to expect this much every day,” and hoped that he wouldn’t tell Kyra but I knew he would and I’d have to give her two hundred more dollars.
Cheyenne took a lot longer upstairs and I heard a lot of moaning, slapping and what sounded like choking and throttling. I got a little nervous but then I would hear giggling and a “That is all you got?” and then more choking and gagging.
Van was kneeling on the floor.
“This doesn’t make you feel weird?” I asked him.
“Oh yeah,” Van admitted without hesitation.
“Then why do you let her do it?” I asked him.
“No, I mean weird in a good way. It feels hot that she wants so much sex, and I love giving her pleasure, and well hey, the money is nice too, so there is that. I could work construction in the hot sun or be here on my hands and knees like a table,” he smiled contentedly. “I’ve always had a thing for Bettie Page since I was a kid and Cheyenne is like a blonde Bettie Page except completely different, you know what I mean?”
I didn’t know what he meant any more than I knew what Duray meant. I guess that is probably why they understood each other so well.
I wanted to explain to Van that he didn’t really need to be my end table. There was no one else down here but him and I now and I doubted the men with his wife would even notice when they finished with Cheyenne.
Instead, I said “But aren’t you worried about her catching something? You know from all those guys?” I asked.
“Nah, nothing to worry about, she had the shot,” Van made a pish-tosh sound and waved off my concern.
I didn’t know there was a shot that protected from all venereal disease now- that was a new one on me. I asked him about it.
“You don’t know what a flu shot is? You should really get one! I got two because the flu season is coming up,” Van was way more handsome than he was bright.
A few minutes later men started to file out of the upstairs one at a time – each one looked happy or at least satisfied. They didn’t stop or saying anything – just walked out the door as they tucked in their shirts or adjusted themselves.
Cheyenne came waddling downstairs five minutes later holding her butt cheeks in her hand and moaning in pain. She had dried cum and sweat all over her face and hair and she looked like she had been crying.
“Oh my gosh, I was worried about something like this,” I started to get up and comfort her. I was wondering if I’d have to take her to the hospital. This was madness!
“They nearly pulled my clit ring and nipple rings right off, they pulled out my hair, left me with bruises and this really hurts,” She whined in tears to me. I wanted to console her and I did my best to avoid saying I told her so but I really wanted to say that she was way in over her head messing around with any of this stuff.
“I loved it!” She said shortly after that excitedly and clapped her hands, jiggling her tits as she did.
“Are you ready for some after care, baby?” Van asked.
“I am ready to go again!” Cheyenne sounded excited about inviting over another gaggle of black men but told him “Your tiny white mouth will do for now,” she grabbed a nearby leash and attached to his collar and made him walk behind her upstairs.
At least they weren’t going to do whatever they were doing in front of me.
Van barked and howled like an enthusiastic dog.
“No barking, hound” Cheyenne commanded as if very bored.
“Sorry, Mistress” Van apologized.
“Don’t call me Mistress,” Cheyenne commanded with the same tone as she led her husband upstairs.
“Sorry, Ma’am,” Van said.
“No talking, just crawling,” My daughter told him. She always was the pushy one in the relationship.
I checked on her baby and made sure Elizabeth was okay. I couldn’t believe my daughter had named her after that “Cool lady on bewitched” but she had. She was such a perfect angel – I hoped she didn’t turn out like Cheyenne and then I felt a little guilty about thinking that.
I started wondering if I was being too judgmental. If this was how they wanted to live their lives and this made them happy then should I stand in their way?
God damn right I should! I started to get angry that they were using my house as a den of prostitution. There had to be a thousand other places they could do it in besides here and why was I involved? I never asked for any of this.
I was thinking about the money and what it meant to be able to have some financial freedom and about trying to accept that there are different ways to float people’s boat and who I was to be a big fuddy duddy about it – after all, the cat was out of the bag with Kyra and Jake and they had an easier time accepting it all then I had.
It was at that point I got a text from Brian. I had been on a date with Brian a few times but I was very hesitant about him meeting my family and I definitely didn’t want him seeing things the way they were now. He reminded me we were supposed to do some things today but I texted him back that I wasn’t feeling well and he politely told me that was fine.
I cleaned up the house, and put away the dishes that Duray had left out. He may have been a good cook but he sure wasn’t much of a cleaner. I secretly fantasized about making Brock and Van do all the cleaning for me. Jake and Kyra sure didn’t and that would solve a lot of problems to have two men that will do it with gusto.
I wondered if all it took was standing up to them and making fun of them to get them to behave – how come they hadn’t done that for me since I’ve been making fun of both of them for years?
The next big distraction on my Saturday was when I heard the rapid-fire thump-thump-thump of what could only be an excited Barbara Jean running down my stairs. I went to the living room and she was wearing a pink and black Aerobics outfit that looked like it came straight out of a John Travolta movie from the 1980s – complete with leg warmers.
The biggest problem was where the crotch area was – you could see right through the pink stretchy part to the outline of her pussy and her entire ass crack. Her tits were stuffed in so tight that you could see the piercing through the top part as well. She had on a sweatband bandana with the the words “I HEART SCHNAUZERS” written on the sweatband. Her hair was perfect and pulled back, she had on heavy makeup and she was already moving her arms and dancing back and forth as if she was trying to get her heart rate up.
Brock was right behind her in a matching outfit complete with headband and yes I could see the outline of his cock cage through the pink bottoms and the outline of his man-nipples through the top. I stifled a giggle and asked if they were going to the year 1983 and if they had a DeLorean outside waiting.
“There isn’t a DeLorean out side, Reba?” Barbara Jean checked my windows. She had a hard time picking up on my sarcasm because she was dense.
“Where are you two going?” I asked more seriously – I had to keep it simple with Barbara Jean if I wanted to know. I honestly wasn’t sure I really wanted to know.
“If there is nobody on my schedule I’d like to do some reps and sets down at the gym – work on my fitness,” Barbara Jean did some shadow boxing and danced side to side with her footwork as if to illustrate what she would be doing at the gym.
“I don’t know if there is anybody on the schedule or not,” I shrugged.
“Duray said you are in charge when he isn’t here. Without a schedule how will you know when we can come and go?” Barbara Jean looked at me like I should know that.
“I never thought you’d want to go to the gym, Brock,” I observed that my ex-husband looked genuinely excited.
“Mistress Barbara Jean says I can masturbate if I do all my exercises and don’t complain,” Brock was moving around excitedly as if he too were trying to get in a pre-work out.
“I said you may get to masturbate but I didn’t say you could cum,” Barbara Jean warned him with a finger in his face and then gave me Duray’s number to text him about the schedule. I couldn’t believe that I was going to text a pimp to find out my ex-husband’s wife’s sex schedule.
He texted back shortly afterwards “Like a Dog sniffing the bone on the first day of work, you got it on the ball, O.G. style. Keep it real 420, you know I am saying? I’ll have my boy holleratcha,” was all he texted back.
I wasn’t sure what any of that meant. I showed Barbara Jean and she translated. “He said that he was proud of you for asking. That you are the boss here. He is busy hitting his bong and doesn’t want to be interrupted and he will send someone over with our schedule!” She explained it to me like I was the dummy.
“Can you ask him if I can go for a few hours to the gym?” Barbara Jean was marching in place.
“Why don’t you ask him, Barbara Jean?” I asked him.
“You heard what he said. You are the boss!” Barbara Jean insisted that I was the one that had to talk to Duray.
I did like hearing I was the boss but somehow being told what to do by Barbara Jean didn’t make me feel like the boss.
I texted Duray to ask if they could go to the gym and he wrote back “U bossman now, but if it was me, I’d want dat bitch earning 365 24/7, tell that chicken head to get to clucking and be back ready to work b4 u can miss her,” again I had no idea what that meant and handed the phone to Barbara Jean for translation.
“He says you are the boss, so it is your decision. I should be earning all the time. So I need to do a few blow jobs and be back in a couple hours,” she said it to me as if it should have been obvious.
“Mistress Reba?” Brock asked me “Should I call you Mistress Reba? What is a reasonable donation for just a blowjob?”
I had no idea what he should call me or what they should charge. I really had no clue and I shrugged.
“Yeah you should call her Mistress Reba, or Ma’am like you do me, she is OUR boss now, and I charged sixty at the country club,” she said sternly to her husband before turning to ask me politely “so would that be enough Mistress Reba or do you want me to do more of a quantity over quality thing.”
Barbara Jean pantomimed stuffing two dicks in her mouth in alternating pattern and then afterwards stroked the imaginary balls of one of them and giggled with a smile.
“Yeah, Sixty sounds right,” I was so stunned I had no idea.
“Hey Mistress Reba, look at this,” Barbara Jean walked past me towards the door and stopped and without even thinking grabbed the TV remote off the coffee table and put it in her mouth and all the way down her throat without choking and then pulled it out and smiled before setting it down and leading Brock out of the house.
I looked down at my dripping wet saliva covered remote in disgust and just stared at it a few moments while I considered my life choices and what I had just done.
There was another knock on the door and with Barbara Jean gone and Cheyenne still upstairs I really didn’t want to open it. The knock was persistent and the man sounded shy and meek so I checked the peephole first and saw it was a nice young guy. I took a chance and opened the door part way.
“Cheyenne?” he asked expectantly and before I could tell him no he said “You don’t look anything like your picture.”
I wanted to explain to him that I was her mother but he said “I mean you look beautiful it’s just that you had blonde hair in your photo, when did you dye it red?”
“It is naturally red, thank you very much!” I wasn’t really offended that he compared my hair to a dye job. After all, women pay a pretty penny to have hair as red as mine. I also wasn’t offended he confused me with my daughter. That had never happened before. She was a tall, All-American beauty that looked like she was born to be a Cheerleader and I was just this 5’2 red-headed women approaching middle age. I said APPROACHING middle age and you have to take the compliments where you can get them.
“As I was trying to say I am not Cheyenne,” I started to explain while just peeking out behind the door.
“It’s okay if you are disappointed and don’t want to meet me now that you have seen me. I get that all the time. I know you are Cheyenne,” the man seemed genuinely sad and I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.
I thought what harm could it do – so I opened the door and invited him in. “I really aint Cheyenne, She is upstairs right now,” I explained.
“So you are her sister?” the nerdy little guy said. He couldn’t be that much older than Cheyenne and Van himself.
He did wear glasses so I wondered if maybe he had a vision problem. I smiled at him and since he seemed to think I was I told him with a smirk “Sure, I am her Sister.”
“Do you do it too?” he asked with a hopeful gleam in his eye. I didn’t know what he meant by “it” but I had a pretty good idea that whatever it was that I definitely did *NOT* do it and definitely *NOT with him. I told him I didn’t but that she’d be down soon and he could wait in the living room. I asked if he wanted something to drink.
He asked if I had any Yoo-Hoo and I thought that was an odd choice and when I told him I didn’t he asked if I had any Grape Ne-Hi. I hadn’t heard of that drink since I was a little bitty baby, and I chuckled and told him I had tea, water, milk, and Diet Pepsi.
“yes please,” He answered.
“Which one,” I asked him.
“All four?” he asked.
I was about to ask why he wanted four different drinks but it had been that kind of day where I wanted a drink – a whiskey. I nodded my head and told him ‘coming right up’.
The platters that Brock and Van used to serve at the parties came in handy to bring out all four drinks and as I did there was a knock at the door.
“Do you want me to get it?” the young man said. I told him that most certainly not but I would need to set the drinks down first.
I went over to the door and it was David the guy I had been dating a few times. He had brought me some chicken soup.
“Oh you have company?” David saw the young man and got a little jealous. That was flattering but I explained that he was here for Cheyenne.
“When you said that you were sick I thought I’d bring you over some chicken soup to make you feel better but you look like you are feeling good now?” David looked skeptical and it was clear I had lied to him.
I pretended to cough into my hands and said that it comes and it goes. Cheyenne let out a loud orgasmic scream upstairs of extreme pleasure. David looked up and I told him that Cheyenne had the same thing and he should probably leave before he caught it too.
He asked about the young man and I told him “He’ll take his chances, thank you for the soup! I’ll text you,” and awkwardly closed the door on Brian. I just didn’t want him to see all this craziness.
Once Brian was gone the young man told me his name was Dennis. He said that he didn’t feel so bad now. I asked him why and he explained “Well, that guy was handsome and if you cancelled on him too, then I understand why you won’t do it with me,” he looked at his shoes.
I set the chicken soup on the tray next to his four drinks and sat down next to him. Dennis just needed some confidence. “Are you sure you even want to have sex this way? I mean, why don’t you try and find a nice girl? One who will like you for you, that will give you genuine emotion and you don’t have to pay money too? You will feel so much happier. It isn’t about the sexual pleasure – not really, when it comes down to it, it’s the snuggles and the touching and the intimacy,” I assured him.
“That sounds good,” he nodded in agreement and offered me five hundred dollars to do that with him.
I told him that I didn’t have those feelings for him and that I was flattered but throwing money at a girl would only buy her affection for a little while and it wouldn’t feel real.
He thought about that and agreed and then told me he could pay five hundred a day. “I got an injury settlement because a truck ran over my toe. The interest alone on my settlement would cover paying you for your time,” he assured me.
I told him that wasn’t how that worked and that I couldn’t be bought that way. This only served to make him more interested in me though.
It was hard enough meeting guys like Brian online. Brian had his own business, and was self-assured, about my age, confident, not married (I checked) and a real sweet heart. Here I was after Brian brought me chicken soup because he thought I was sick sitting next to a boy half my age (well not quite half) but too wet behind the ears for me, talking about how much money it would take to get in bed with him.
I felt sorry for Dennis. His self-esteem was so low and my rejection seemed to only make him dwell on his flaws. The more I tried to explain that I wasn’t a prostitute the more he thought that was some kind of cover story to avoid sex with him. He kept increasing the offer and I will be honest – with that much money I was thinking he couldn’t last more than a few minutes I may have just done it and then taken a long hot-shower afterwards, drank an entire bottle of win and put it past me like swallowing some bitter cold medicine.
“Cheyenne?” Dennis said as my daughter walked downstairs naked with her piercings jingling.
“Gross! Dennis Dugan? “You are my 1pm? Ick! I saw the name Dennis and I was hoping it was anybody but you!”

Apparently, Dennis was the senior class president and he was the reason that Cheyenne had won prom queen even though she was very pregnant at the time. He had a massive crush on her.
Cheyenne recognized him immediately. Dennis had a huge crush on her in middle school and high school and had tutored her in math but clearly failed at that since she was terrible at math. He apparently embarrassed her trying to make a big play for her when Van got her pregnant. How on earth could he have not recognized her from her picture wherever he saw it?
“Why are you talking to my mom?” she asked with a shocked look on her face as she covered her breasts with her hands and her pussy as if she were now suddenly shy.
“SHE told me she was your sister!” Dennis stood up indignantly and looked down at me like I was the liar. I wanted to clarify that he asked if I was her sister and since he seemed convinced I had gone along with it but that didn’t make the lie sound any better so I just kept my mouth shut.
“I was just seeing what it would cost to be with her!” he said in a defensive manner. “She told me she could make me feel real emotion, real love, real intimacy,” he said. I didn’t phrase it like that at all – I said someone could and said not me.
“Mom, are you trying to poach my dates?” Cheyenne had a look of betrayal on her face as she futilely tried to cover her pussy and tits with her hands.
“Oh Hey, Dennis!” Van had crawled down the stairs behind his wife with some difficulty. He said it was much easier going up than it was down.
Dennis shyly looked at his shoes when Van talked to him. Cheyenne kept berating me about poaching and said there was an understanding amongst hos that you don’t poach.
Dennis started to talk and we didn’t really hear him at first but as his monotone voice got a little louder I heard him say “I saw the ad for a Cheyenne and the picture and I was actually hoping it was NOT you. You look like what I think an angel looks like. I was relieved when your mom opened the door because she was hot and I was hoping that I could be with a girl. I didn’t think I was ready to be with you anyway – not for my first time!’
Cheyenne stopped arguing with me and looked at him with fondness and said “Awww” as she considered his words but then told him “Not going to happen, Dennis!”
“Cheyenne, why are you yelling at me about poaching him then if you didn’t want to have sex with him?” I asked. I wasn’t even sure why I was curious other than a part of me wanted an answer.
“You poaching him was wrong and I only fuck black guys now, it should have said that in the Back Page dot com ad,” Cheyenne informed us both that we were now on her shit list.
“What if? What if?” Dennis began to stutter.
Cheyenne made fun of his stutter and told him there was no what if where this was happening.
“What if I gave you a thousand dollars?” he finished his sentence.
She smiled sweetly at him, cocked her head pertly, put her hand on her hip like she was bending over to curtsy and extended the other to him. “I’ve got some old cheer leader uniforms I can try on for you,” she smiled seductively.
“Can I come watch, Mistress?” Van asked as he followed the high school dweeb and his wife upstairs on all fours.
“No, and don’t call me Mistress” she said to him in an uncaring way.
“I like it and I don’t mind if he watches,” Dennis offered sweetly as he walked arm in arm with my naked daughter upstairs to her room.
“You can watch and call ME Mistress,” Cheyenne instructed her husband in the same tone as before.
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REBA