Sweet Home Alabama

Part II, All in the Family
By Andrew J. Mellon

“Concentrate…” Jamie told herself.

“Oooo, what sexy clothes, maybe Ms. Betsy will give me some clothes like that. Ah just love lookin’ sexy.” Jamie Lynn blurted out as she read People.

“Con…concentrate…” Jamie told herself again.

“Oooo, George Clooney, ah just love George Clooney to pieces. He is such a hunk!” Jamie Lynn said aloud.

“Concentrate!” Jamie pleaded again to herself.

“Ole Georgey with a nine incher…mmmm now that would be mighty fine, wouldn’t it, Susie Jane?”

Susie Jane loosened her fixation on the football game she was watching to answer. “Girl, whatcha talkin’ bout. George Clooney ain’t nuthin’ but a fag. Get yourself a real man.” Susan returned to the game, not because she liked the sport, she couldn’t understand it like many things, she just loved seeing all those men run around in tight pants. She savored the bunn shots and imagined stroking one.

There was more going on in Susan’s brain than lust for a linebacker’s ass. Jamie could see the struggle in Susan’s eyes: the Harvard-schooled lawyer was fighting Betsy May’s conditioning with all the mental energy she possessed and still she could not break free. Somehow Jamie knew that Susan had been a strong willed woman in her original persona; if she could not break free of Betsy May’s control, what chance did Jamie have?

“Bullshit!” Jamie Lynn retorted as she turned a page and became entranced by television stars dressed up for the Emmies. She took a final drag on her cigarette, stamped it out and started another. Jamie hated smoking; Jamie Lynn could hardly live without it. Jamie Lynn could also do with some beer or liquor, but Betsy May didn’t keep that stuff in the house though somtimes her customers brought some over to party.

The sound of bubblegum popping momentarily distracted Jamie Lynn. She looked over at Kimmy Sue who was absently chewing gum; her eyes betrayed the vacuousness of her mind. Betsy May’s reduction of Kimmy Sueto a bitch in mind, a sex starved human beast, had broken her completely: she was Kimmy Sue now and forever. The life of the stockbroker she once had been was gone forever. Both Jamie and Susan knew if they stayed here much longer, they would be just like her.

Betsy May’s conditioning could be broken, Susan and Kim had done it only to be reduced again before they could escape. After that, their captor made a special effort to refresh the conditioning of all her girls. But after a few weeks Betsy May got sloppy; the refreshing became less and less frequent. Maybe Betsy May just forgot (she wasn’t too bright herself) or maybe she was planning to slap her girls down just has they came close to shedding their bimboization (she was that devious). Whatever the reason, Jamie Lynn found her old consciousness slowly being able to reassert itself. Not by much though: it was as if she were underwater and only her lips had pierced the surface.

“Hey girls! How are y’all.” Betsy May chirped as she entered the house. Two men were right behind her. Jamie knew one of them: Wes, the man that had used her so expertly on her first day at Betsy May’s, the man that made her scream she was a slut and made her believe it. Jamie hated him and Jamie Lynn loved him for it.

Jamie Lynn jumped up and slid over to Wes, pressing her chest against his. Jamie cringed mentally inside her head, competing with the feelings of desire that Jamie Lynn savored as she felt his arm around her waist and she slid a hand up and down his crotch.

Jamie held on to the toehold of control even as she let Jamie Lynn go full throttle. She had to act as she was expected to act; if she let Betsy May suspect that she was reasserting herself, her captor would cast her consciousness back into the abyss from which it had clawed its way out.

“Hey sugah,” Jamie Lynn told Wes in deep voice, licking her lips slowly and batting her lashes. “Long time no see.”

Wes laughed harshly.

“Yeah, you’ll have to show how much you missed me, babe.”

“Susie Jane, Betsy May, go with these fine gentlemen and treat ‘em right nice. Me and Kimmy have somewhere to go.”

“That Kimmy Sue will make a fine Pit Bull girl, Betsy May, mighty fine.” Wes told Betsy May, “We’ll have these two back to you tomorrow after we’ve gotten some use out of them.”

Jamie had heard the Pit Bull mentioned before in Betsy May’s house. By its description, it was what was euphemistically called a "gentleman's club." As with most euphemisms there were more accurate names for the establishment: strip bar and whorehouse.

Wes led Jamie Lynn out to a blue Camero. They let the other couple sit in the back and then got in. Wes gunned the car and sped off into the darkness.

Jamie smiled stupidly at Wes while the other man groped the giggling Susie Jane.

“I can get through this.” She told herself. “I won’t be kept down.”

“I know what your thinking.” Wes told her.

“Huh?” Jamie Lynn responded.

“I said I know what your thinking. If Betsy May did her job right, she should have let the old you out of your bottle just a bit.”

“Ah dunno whacha mean.” Jamie Lynn told him as a coolness crept up her spine.

“Oh sure you do, sweetheart. Betsy May could squash your brain like a bug if she wanted to. She likes to give bitches like you a little leash so you can run a bit. Think on your own a little, like you were and then smack you down into what you are. Its like when I go fishing off the Georgia coast. You give the fish some line so he can tire himself before reeling him in. She lets me play too.”

Susie May leaned forward pushing a bottle of Southern Comfort in front of Jamie Lynn.

“Tee hee, gonna have fun tonight hon, have a suck.” She tittered

Jamie took a long drink. The sickeningly sweet drink burned her throat. She coughed a little, handed the bottle back and lit up a cigarette.

“Yeah, you’re probably thinkin’ `Oh I ain’t gonna play that game.” You better play sweetheart. Cuz if you aren’t interesting, Betsy May loses interest and when she loses interest, she gets rid of you. Like your friend Kimmy. She dumbs you down so much she don’t need to do it again. You’ll be so stupid you can’t string words into a sentence. Oh yeah, she makes you permanently horny as a bitch in heat. That way the Pit Bull gets a use out of ya.”

Jamie Lynn took a long drag on her cigarette.

”Yeah, fucking you is fun,” Wes mused. “But breaking you down is icing on the cake.”

Wes’ room was dark, a large platform bed, with posts on each corner, dominated most of the space; black light posters with the Stars and Bars, skulls and Southern slogans covered the walls.

Jamie tried to maintain composure. She wanted to run; she wanted to fall on the bed and spread her legs. Jamie and Jamie Lynn were sparring with oneanother. Wes let her alone a while, to just watch her; like a hunter getting ready to fire the shot that takes down the doe in his sights.

She sipped a glass of Southern Comfort, idly inspecting the surroundings.

In an instant, he was there behind her, his breath falling on her neck, his hands gently on her sides, nakedly exposed by her cut off t-shirt. Her skin tingled with Goosebumps.

“Tell me what you are. Tell me what you want.” He whispered.

“No!” She hissed. That was a mistake; he wanted resistance. It excited him. How much it excited him she could tell as his crotch was pressed up against her back.

He spun her around; she was like a doll in his powerful arms. He kissed his way down her chest, pulling down her shorts and delivered short bursts of breath on her thong covered crotch. She watched helplessly and swooned. The bastard, the fucking bastard! He was so fucking smooth. If he would just fuck her and get it over with she could get through this. But no, he wanted to make her suffer as he pushed her under; he wanted to dominate her totally, mentally and physically.

“Tell me what you are.” He whispered again. He swept her onto the bed, lifting off her t-shirt, unclasping her bra, then drawing off her thong. His powerful form kneeled over her, as he kissed and licked her curves, playfully drawing out moans and sighs.

“Oh mah gaaaaawwwwd…oh maaaaahhhh gaaaaaaawwwd!” She wept. It felt so good, he made it so good. And he was so bad, only a bad person could want this from someone like this. It was like he tearing away the onion-like layers was exposing who she really was.

“Uhhhh…please…ah…ah’ll do anythin’…just…don’t…ohhhhh…fuck me…fuck me…”

“You’ve told me what you want, now tell me what you are!”

Suddenly, he grew harsh, grabbing an arm and lashing it to one of the posts with a bit of rope. Quickly the other limbs were tied to the other posts; she lay before him spread-eagled and completely at his mercy. She strained at the ropes, letting them dig into her skin. The pain made her cry out.

He undid his pants; he took of his shirt, he stood naked before her, his prick bobbing from the sight of her. She couldn’t look away; she wanted that dick, to taste, to feel it, oh were these her feelings, were they Jamie Lynn’s she couldn’t tell, all there was in her was desire, unleashed and uncontained, and she was its servant.

“Betsy May told me all about you. You’re some prudish Midwestern girl. Keep your cunt clamped and are afraid of being touched. Don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t fuck. That’s you isn’t it?

He said this with his head pressed close to hers, his alcohol-stained breath bathing her face. She squirmed and tugged. That was her, that was what had been, he was right, that was Jamie. But now something in her did not want to be that way, she wanted to drink, to smoke and, especially, to fuck. That was Jamie Lynn; the personality was ready to explode out of her. With her last reservoir of strength she tried to fight it. She quivered as his tongue waltzed across her breasts; she writhed as he lifted up her waist by her buttocks and toyed with her dripping cunt with his own lips, his tongue stroking her engorged clit. Her body was betraying her, the warmth of ecstasy was seizing every pore, every cell of her being. And yet he would not let her cum.

“Ohhh…fuck…fuck me please fuck me…please…ah’ll do anything!”

“You ain’t no prude any more are you?” He hissed at her as he worked her.

“No..noooo….” He was right, the only thing she wanted was that hard piece of meat in her, driving into her like a battering ram, cleaving her cunt walls and driving her mad.

“What are you?”

Was he going to make her say it, if she admitted it, she knew what would follow. She would totally lose control, she would be gone, there would only be Jamie Lynn. She would be a passive observer in her own body as she acted the total dumb slut, subservient to anybody, man or woman, for a fuck.

“What are you?”

“Awww shit!”

The sound of him sucking her juices added to the joy he sent to her via her throbbing hot crotch. She wanted so badly to squeeze her tits, they were so hard she thought they might explode.

“Ah’m a slut, ah’m a slut, ah’m Jamie Lynn, a slut, and whore!!!!’ She shouted it as an affirmation. It excited her to admit; it added to the ecstasy.

Wes, smiled and then drove into Jamie Lynn, his slut and whore, banishing Jamie into oblivion.

Someone was slapping her face, Jamie groaned. That brought another slap.

“Jesus leave me alone you goddamned, redneck, cracker, son of a bitch!” Jamie cried out.

“What the hell?” Jamie thought to herself. As Jamie Lynn she could never had uttered that sentence. Something was different.

She opened her eyes; Susan standing over her. Her face showed the dogged determination of who she was in real life, not the blank television watching slate she was under Betsy May’s control.

“Good, your back!” Susan said exultantly.

Jamie rubbed her head, “What the fuck…ah mean…ah’m me! Mostly me…Still talking like a hick.”

Susan pulled her up. She spoke with a slight southern lilt, but not the full blown accent she had as Susie Jane.“That’s the alcohol. If you drink enough, it weakens your conditioning when you get your hangorver. I discovered that with Kim after a party here."

Jamie tried to remember the night before. She drank continually inbetween screwing individually and various combinations of Wes, Wes’ friend and Susie Jane before blacking out.

“You planned this to happen, didn’t you! You were feeding me drinks all night. How did you get enough control to do that?”

“We were turned into Southern bimbo tramps. Southern bimbo tramps like to drink. Its easy to assert control when the needs of the mind-fucked you and the real you are the same.”

“Great, now what do we do?”

Susan held up Wes’ car keys and a wad of cash.

“Wes and his buddy got so heavily medicated last night they won’t be up for hours. Lets get the fuck out of here!”

Jamie dressed hurriedly as she made her way out the door of Wes’ house. Susan was fumbling with the keys at the Camero when she turned to Jamie with a crestfallen look.

“Damn, the mind-fucking has been weakened, but its still there. I ain’t so smart as I used to be. Can you drive?”

Jamie shrugged. “Ah used to be able to…which pedal does which now?”

Susan threw the keys into a bush.

“Come on, we got to get away from here fast. Its risky but lets get a ride to town the ole fashioned way.”

The two hit the road, jamming out their thumbs and flashing their legs to get a car to pick them up. It wasn’t long before a car slowed down to answer their prayers. A jovial older man in overalls waved them in: Susan took the passenger seat and Jamie got in back..

“Where can ah take you ladies.” He asked with a broad smile.

Susan stammered a plea, “Mister, you got to get us out of this county, out of this state! We’ve been taken prisoner by this bit…girl…and she makes us do the most awful things. I am a lawyer from up north, my friend’s from the Midwest, and we need help, we need to get out of here, otherwise that girl will take us back.”

The man’s face grew grave, not out of concern for the plight of the women but out of the realization that his role as the good Samaritan had landed him a couple of con artists, harlots, nut cases or all of the above.

“You’re a lawyer. And she is from the Midwest.” He said slowly, skeptically.

“I know it sounds strange but you got to believe us, we’re in danger. I’ve got money. I’ll pay you.

“Honey, if you’re a lawyer, what’s the name of the guy who runs a trial.”

Susan knew that answer, it was so simple, like one plus one, but the information in her brain was scattered by the conditioning. The concept she tried to muster was like a wraith: she couldn’t lasso it to bring it beyond the tip of her tongue.

“A ref!” She yelled. It was as close to the answer as she was going to get, she only knew it because she had been watching a game the day before, and she figured a shot in the dark was better than no answer at all.

“Mmmmhmmm. And Missy,” He cocked his head at Jamie. “If you’re from the Midwest which state are you from?”

“Georgia!” She blurted out. It was the only state she could recall aside from the one she was living in: Alabama.

“I thought so.” The man said with a disappointed voice. “Look, I don’t know what you ladies are up to, but I don’t want any part of it. I’ll drop you off in the center of town.”

The man was as good as his word, letting Jamie and Susan off at the town square of a sleepy, but sizable town.

“Shit! What do we do now?” Susan exclaimed.

“Don’t you know?” Jamie asked.

“I…I…I never thought this far ahead.” Susan replied sadly. Jamie understood. In their mental state, there was only so far they could think. Betsy May’s girls only thought in the present, if they thought at all. Long term planning was beyond them.

“We could hitch again.”

“Naw…too dangerous. Hey, look over there. That Greyhound symbol on that sign and that arrow. There must be a bus station here! Come on, lets catch a bus.”

Jamie and Susan strode down the street in the direction the sign told them to go. In their tight cut of t’s and their short shorts they were an obvious distraction to the town’s inhabitants. Glares fueled by lust, appreciation or disapproval followed them as they went. They could feel the looks; the stares touched off something inside of them. They started waving their hips and shaking their assess as the moved. Occasionally they giggled, making their breasts jiggle. They tried to gain control of themselves, but it was nearly impossible.

“Shit,” Jamie whispered. “I….ah…trying to stay in control. Its so hard. If someone comes up and hits on me I am just gonna offer him my bod!”

“Hold on, its not that far…I can…see the station up ahead!”

The two picked up the pace, scrambling for a schedule posted on the station wall to find out which was the next bus out of town. The destination was irrelevant; as long as it was some place far away from here. They both scanned the schedule, furrowed their brows and moved their lips as if they were mouthing the words.

“Fuck!” Jamie said. “Is this dang thang in English? Ah can’t read a goddarn thang!”

“Shit! Betsy May dumbed us down so much we can’t read!” Susan growled.

Jamie gasped. Susan was right. Sure she had read magazines back at Betsy May’s but at some point she had stopped reading the words; she just looked at the pictures. She had never realized her ability to read had been taken from her.

“Well, gaaaawd damn. Lets just ask someone then!”

Jamie and Susan ran for a ticket window.

“What’s the next bus out of town!?” She demanded.

“Shit, ah need a smoke bad! Oh man, I’m losing it!” Jamie blurted out.

“I reckon that’s the 10:15 to Mobile.” The ticket agent responded leisurely.

“Two tickets!” Susan cried out pulling out the cash.

“That will be $50.” The agent replied.

Susan started counting the bills, stopped, and started counting again. She repeated this action three times.

“Oh sweet Jesus, I can’t count no more neither!”

“Hey, check out that guy, ain’t he cute?” Jamie mused.

Susan took hold of her friend.

“Come on girl! Get a hold of yourself. Can you count!?”

Jamie took the bills and tried to concentrate. She couldn’t add past 10.

“Doggone it, ah can’t do no figuring no more!” She moaned.

Susan grabbed the money and put it down on the counter, jumping up and down in impatience as the agent counted it up.

Jamie froze as a hand clamped around her shoulder.

“Jamie!”

Jamie knew that voice, she spun around to face her brother Robert. She threw herself into his strong arms.

“Jamie, where the hell have you been?” He cried out with emotion. “When you didn’t check in from New Orleans I figured something happened. I traced your path here from Atlanta.” He looked her over, bewildered by her shorts and tight t-shirt. He had always known his sister to dress conservatively; seeing her like this was a surprise.

Susan intervened on the reunion.

“Do you have a car!?” She nearly yelled at Robert.

“Sure. Who are you?”

“Come on, lets go!”

Susan pushed the two out of the bus station toward where Robert had parked his car. They nearly bowled Betsy May and Wes over as they exited.

“Well, well, well, what have we here.” Betsy May said in her maliciously honeyed voice. “See I told you Wes, they always go for the bus station.”

Susan tried to bolt; Betsy May cocked an eye and she froze. Robert tried to protest only to find he too could not move. Finally, Jamie felt Betsy May’s presence reach into her mind and all went black.

“Ah am Jamie Lynn…ah be Jamie Lynnn…Ah be Jamie Lynn” Jamie repeated mechanically, standing rigidly straight, her body nude, her eyes batting to the right and left, as Betsy May restored her conditioned persona to dominance. Susie Jane had been likewise restored and was watching t.v., giggling childishly at cartoons. Robert was being held within Betsy May’s power, standing like a statue at her side, completely naked as well.

“Dawggone, Ms. Betsy, can ah have a smoke.” Jamie wailed, “Ah haven’t had a smoke in a coon’s age.”

Betsy May wagged a finger at Jamie Lynn. “Now now, Jamie Lynn, you’ve been a bad girl. Bad girl’s get punished. You be good and maybe I’ll let you have a cigarette sometime soon.”

Jamie Lynn pouted. “Ah be good Ms. Betsy…ah promise ah be good from now on. Cross mah heart.”

“We’ll see. Now what should we do with your dear brother.”

“Aw, Ms. Betsy, he ain’t done you no harm. Just let him be.” Jamie Lynn pleaded.

“I can’t let him go sugah. I mean, he’ll just come back for you. He has to be dealt with.”

She raised an eyebrow. Robert bent his head back and declared, “I am Robert Buske, I am Robert Buske, I am Robert Buske…I…Ah…Ah am Rob…Ah be Bobby…Ah be Bobby Joe…Ah be Bobby Joe…Ah be Bobby Joe.”

“Not much resistance in old Robert.” Betsy May declared laughingly. She released him from her control.

Bobby Joe’s body slackened and he rubbed his eyes.

“Howdy Miss Betsy,” Bobby Joe declared slowly. Then he eyed Jamie Lynn with a strange look. “Howdy Siss. You are right purty. You are.” His penis strengthened in an erection.

“No!” Jamie Lynn gasped. “It ain’t right. It ain’t right. Don’t let him do it, Miss Betsy!”

Bobby Joe staggered forward; Jamie Lynn gazed at him in horror.

“Oh, no, I think its high time for a proper family reunion, don’t you?” Betsy May replied with obvious delight.

Bobby Joe pressed his body against Jamie Lynn’s, she found herself secretly thrilled by the rugged texture of his muscles. Hadn’t she always? Wasn’t this some deep dark desire suppressed within her, that was released by her conditioning, her inability to think properly, her inability to control her urges?

“No…Bobby…we is kin…it ain’t right.”

“Is too right…we keeping stuff in the family. Suck me sis, suck me!”

“Oh…Bobby…Bobby…No,” She groaned as she slid to her knees before him, his thick rod horizontal to the ground, throbbing out of a nest of red pubic hair. He pressed her head against it. She smelled his musk, a tear of precum, hanging from the tip, it was so inviting, her thighs, her stomach, her breasts were alit with want.

“Bobby Joe…please…don’t…can’t”

“Suck me sisssss…suck me…”

Jamie Lynn’s body was electric with feeling, her hands were groping out to his powerful thighs, his sculpted ass, she felt him, she kissed his dick, she wrapped her lips around it slowly and then took it fully within.

Bobby ran his hands through Jamie Lynn’s red hair, their gray green eyes met, telling each other of their desire for this forbidden moment.

“Fuck sis, ah is gonna cum, lets do this right, in the bedroom.”

He swept Jamie Lynn into his arms and carried her into the next room, laying her on the bed, facing the large mirror over it. Jamie Lynn gazed at herself, her long body, her birdlike breasts, her cunt glistening in the light. Bobby Joe was spreading her legs and dipping his head into her crotch, savoring her clit, kissing it, playing with it. She arched her back, gritting her teeth, squeezing her breasts tightly.

So this is what Betsy May had made her, a hot Southern slut eager to fuck her own brother. It was wrong she told herself, so wrong, her baby brother, but, damn, it felt so good!

Bobby Joe licked his way up the crevice of Jamie’ Lynn’s tight stomach, past her hard nipples, to plunge his tongue into her mouth. She tasted her own juices mixed with his saliva. Jamie Lynn’s resistance crumbled completely; she wanted this man, she wanted to be fucked by this man, because the fucking was so wonderful. That was all that mattered, not the past, not taboo, not “nothin’”.

Jamie Lynn’s cunt was ready for Bobby Joe’s impalement, it wrapped around his cock tightly. How long they rocked together, their waists and thighs gyrating in unison, they did not know. Their climax was intense and exhausting: they both cried out as they reached the limit and then let go.