Here's a quickie, I literally wrote just now. Light mentions/elements of incest, in this one. It's a silly premise, doesn't get too hardcore, but I just spit it out. I have several series, with lots of material finished or very nearly so, but it all needs heavy editing. I'll get to it one of these days, I swear.
*****
Removing the dogma of a brainwashed individual is not easy, much less trying to do it with four of them. Even when someone leaves a cult and is exposed to the "real world," enlightened on what is and isn't normal, it doesn't just make them drop all the beliefs they were raised on. It's a long, arduous process.
The McDaniel clan was made up 42 people - of no less than nine families - with ten individuals being directly related to the notorious cult leader, Robert McDaniel. Robert had three wives, four daughters and three sons. He was the only man allowed to have multiple wives in the "religion" he shared with his followers. After he could no longer bear children, no other families were allowed to have births, either. I suppose that was the one saving grace of this whole thing.
The youngest of Robert's four daughters was 21-year-old Dorothy McDaniel, and I had been assigned to her and her sisters, to help integrate them into society. My partner, Becky Williamson, was at the end of her rope, and we'd only been dealing with the girls for a week, ever since Robert McDaniel was arrested for tax fraud and human violations.
We were staying at the Waldorf in New York. Pretty snazzy place, but I insisted it was too urban, too soon, for this group in which we were charged. "Becky, we need to contact Keith Abrams and tell him we need to be reassigned to a new location. I'm thinking small town, maybe five or ten thousand. We could put them into local community programs. Integrate them slowly to society."
"We need to do something, Scott, because I can't continue making excuses for these girls. We're supposed to meet down for breakfast at 7 a.m. and you know how they'll be. I'll have the girls go back to their rooms after that, while you try to reach Keith. We're not going out today, until we get an answer."
A few minutes later, we arrived to the dining area, not at all surprised by what we saw. All four girls were barely dressed. Dorothy was in a bath towel, Angela and Debbie were in their robes, though Debbie's was half open, exposing most of her breasts. Cassandra was wearing a sheer nightie. When the girls brought their wardrobes from home, we were shocked to discover they consisted of slinky dresses, skimpy tops, stringy thongs and the shortest of skirts. Lots of high heels. We'd purchased new clothes for them, but the girls didn't like any of it.
In the McDaniel cult-religion, all woman are dutifully bound to appear hot and physically appealing to men, at all times. It's also considered in good taste for the women to flash their tits when greeting a man, and I had seen it all, several times over with these girls. They had been told time and again it was inappropriate, yet now I found myself correcting them less and less. One, I was tired of trying, and two, I couldn't help but enjoy the view. Becky was right, though. It was a nightmare trying to control these girls in public spaces.
Men on the streets loved gawking at these ladies, and the ladies reciprocated the attention by exposing even more flesh. "This place isn't so different from home," Cassandra said yesterday, while responding to some whoops and hollers on the street. Becky tried to explain to her that wasn't at all true, when some stranger yelled out, "Show me that ass!" Cassie quickly obliged. Becky rolled her eyes, burying her head in her hands. "This is so ridiculous," she said.
Becky and I grabbed a waffle and coffee and joined the four girls at their table. Debbie, closest to me, dropped her robe to her waist, showing me her huge tits, and said, "Hiya, babe. I know you hate it when I do this, but it just doesn't seem RIGHT if I don't. It's just so disrespectful not to give you an eyeful."
Becky snapped. "Enough, Debbie. We told you that isn't okay in public!"
Debbie began to cover herself, and said, "Relax. No one got hurt. I don't see why it bothers you so much."
"It doesn't bother me," huffed Becky. "And I'm not trying to shame your culture or upbringing. It's not your fau... It's just, some of the things you do, could be construed very wrongly."
"What do you mean?" asked Dorothy, leaning in.
Becky was tired of explaining, and motioned for everyone to sit back and finish their breakfast. "Please get a hold of Keith," she whispered to me. "I'll keep them occupied in their room after this. We can have everyone packed today."
"Why don't you plan for that," I said. "I'll force the move. We can take them to Arkansas."
"Arkansas?"
"I grew up there. Know the area well. I'll shoot for Middlesburgh. It's a small town, but not desolate. I went to high school about an hour from there. Trust me. I can talk Keith into this. We'll leave this morning and be there by tomorrow."
We split up shortly thereafter. Already, the girls were suspicious something was going down, but they let Becky take them back to their room without me. The conversation with Keith went easier than expected, when I explained how we could save the taxpayers' money by moving them.
"Renting a house in a small town will only be a fraction of the cost," I insisted. "And I demand it. These girls need to be in a nice, quiet place first."
"Fine. Put everything on the company card, and I'll divert funds. Just send me a full report on why you did it, so I can explain to my superiors. I'm trusting you on this."
"You have my word. They need it."
I went back to the girls' room, surprised to see something of a coup had occurred. Becky was standing in the center of the room, waiting on me, the four McDaniels surrounding her.
"Uh, is everything okay?" I asked, stepping in.
"It alright, Scott. I told the girls what the plan was. That we were to move them. They insisted they did not want to leave."
"They don't have a choice," I said.
The sisters were still barely dressed and Dorothy's robe was inches from falling off her shoulders. What was most strange is Becky had her skirt hiked up and her blouse had two buttons undone. A hint of cleavage was on display. I'd never seen her so disheveled. She spoke, "They claim they will make a ruckus if we force them to move."
I looked scornfully on the four women. "Ladies," I boomed. "Why exactly are you being hard about this?"
Angela stepped forward. "Listen. We also explained to Becky that we will go with you, wherever you choose to take us, without a fight... but only on one condition."
"What? What condition?"
"Becky has to stop trying to change our behaviors. Instead, she must experience what it is like to be a McDaniels lady. It is an exhilarating feeling, and we believe SHE is the one who doesn't know how to behave like a lady. This is only fair. One simple favor, and we'll do whatever you want."
This explained the change in Becky's attire. The girls must have been telling her how to dress. She stared at me, with a worried look in her eyes. "Scott," she whispered. "If we can just get out of this city, I'm willing to do this for a day. Will you just play along, so we can do that?" I quietly nodded, and Becky spoke up again, to the girls, "What is it I have to do, anyway?"
"First," said Debbie, "You should greet Scott like a lady. Do as we've shown you before."
Becky grit her teeth and stepped forward, then perked up, pushing her tits out. She unsnapped two more buttons, and pulled her bra over her blouse, followed by her breasts. I was shocked by how amazing they were. "It's nice to see you this morning, Scott," Becky smiled and winked, faking it, I could tell. When the girls did it, it felt more authentic, like they truly enjoyed exposing themselves. But at least Becky was trying. Hurriedly, she put her tits back in her bra and covered back up.
"Thank you, Becky," I said. She had an amazing rack. It was all I could think to say.
Before long, the girls were all wearing tube-tops as if they were standard uniforms for a long drive. This was probably some common "dress" they wore back home. Dorothy and Debbie rode in the middle seat of the van, while Becky stayed up front with me. Cassie and Angela took the back. I noticed Becky still had three or four buttons off now, and her bra pushed her mounds up, exposing a healthy dose of cleavage. I tried not to look too often, but it was a difficult challenge.
When we pulled over for gas, Dorothy went to the restroom and came back out with her tube-top barely covering her flesh. She had tucked the material, so as to make it more akin to a narrow strap of cloth. As we were pulling out of the parking lot, I mentioned something about it. "Is that really necessary, Dorothy?"
"Not so much for me," said Dorothy. "But if Becky doesn't start showing a bit more, we're not gonna like it. You promised for one day only, Becky."
Becky scoffed. "What does that even mean? How much more could you possibly want me to show?"
Dorothy peeked over. "Uh... a lot, considering you have so much to offer. Don't you know how much men appreciate it?"
"Yes, of course I do," said Becky. "But there is a time and place."
"A time and place to be appreciated? Come on, Miss Becky. Just ask. Scott, do you really dislike what I am wearing?" Dorothy leaned back, with me watching in the rear-view mirror, and shook her ta-tas under her skimpy top.
"Um... no, of course not, Dorothy. Becky is just saying that you shouldn-"
"Come on, Miss Becky," said Dorothy, ignoring me. "Pull those tits up, already! Or take the stupid bra off, at least. You're wearing an entire blouse."
"Dorothy, this blouse is half open already."
"Lame. lame, lame, lame."
Becky was shaking her head and then looked up, staring blankly into the window as we drove along. "Okay, fuck it." With no hesitation, she reached up and pulled both her tits over the top of her bra again, nipples and all. She then tweaked with the buttons on the blouse to cover just enough.
"Thatagirl!" shouted Dorothy.
Becky turned to me, "It's just til we get to Arkansas."
"Come on, Becky. Try to encourage some response," shouted Angela, from the back.
Becky sighed again, so embarrassed, but then shifted up, leaning in. "Do you like what you see, big boy?" she asked me, mimicking how the girls behave.
I was nodding fast, "Yeah.. uh.. yes, of course."
"See, Becky?" teased Dorothy. "You say this is wrong and we are brainwashed women, but this just proves our point."
I could tell Becky wanted to scream, but I waved her down, whispering, "Just relax. We'll work on them when we get down there and find a place."
"Fine," said Becky, leaning back. Her left nipple came into view. She noticed me watching it, but didn't attempt to cover. She shouted back to the girls, "I'll hike up the skirt two inches, every state we pass. Will that make you all happy?"
"Oh, that sounds so fun," Dorothy clapped.
Becky seemed to enjoy my gazes, the more they occurred as we drove along. She re-positioned herself several times, giving me different views, all with healthy amounts of flesh. When we made it to Ohio, she hiked her dress up to her bum, and both breasts came pouring out. She left them that way for almost twenty miles, before halfway covering them, acting as if she hadn't noticed they were out in the first place. I had been sporting wood for some time, and I knew she could tell. We kept silent about it, regardless.
"Kentucky, next," I said.
"Not much left of that skirt, Miss Becky," said Dorothy. "You got the guts?"
"At this point, I might as well go naked," said Becky.
Dorothy screamed loudly, yanking her top off. "Hell, yeah! I'm with you girl."
"Dorothy!" I yelled. "Behave. Becky was just being facetious."
"Fa-ce-what?" asked Dorothy. Becky was snickering in her chair.
"You okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, just can't believe I agreed to this. Glad you are okay with it."
