Losers Can't Be Choosers

Chapter 3 - Mama Barnes

Sixty-two year old Clarissa Barnes had seen a lot of things in her life. The former History teacher turned TV star on account of a casting fluke had a lot of stories to tell about what really happened backstage that made the tabloids headlines look like child's play by comparison. She believed nothing could surprise her any more but nothing could have prepared her for the sight of her only son grovelling on the floor with his face covered in jizz.

"Don't 'Hi, Mom' me, young lady," she said. "I want to know what the hell is going on around here right now."

Angela tapped her foot. "Sure but do you mind telling me the reason why you're here in the first place?"

"Since when does a mother need a reason to come see her daughter?"

"I'm in my work place. You could have least said something before waltzing in. And how did you get in here, anyway?"

"I know where Gail keeps the spare key," Clarissa shrugged. "And, Angela, I'm pretty sure what I'm seeing right now is anything but work."

"You would be surprised. It's serious business. You just interrupted a therapy session."

"Therapy?" Clarissa's eyes widened.

"The... rapy?" Jonah mumbled as more and more of his surroundings became familiar once again. God, his mouth tasted like...

"Forget that," Angela commanded. "Listen to my voice and go back into trance. That's right, Jonah. Your conscious mind is going back to sleep now, completely unaware of what's happening. You know you can't fight this so you won't. You will simply 'go diaper' *snap* and 'diaper' *snap*. Go sit on that couch over there while Mom and I have a conversation."

"Yes, Angela," Jonah obeyed. He got up, his knees slightly sore, lips sticky like they had been smeared in super glue.

"Go diaper?" Clarissa asked, even more confused than before.

Angela pulled up an ergonomic leather chair with adjustable heights, armrests, and headrests and offered it to her mother. "A little something Gregory taught me a while ago. You remember him, don't you?"

"I remember you being head over heels if that's what you mean. And I think I prefer to stand for now."

"Have it your way."

"Explain to me how having your brother behave like a zombified cum eater is therapy."

Angela crossed her arms as she leaned backwards on her desk. "It's quite simple. Jonah came to me asking for help in getting rid of his humiliation fetish or, at least, toning it down so he can regain control of his life once again. The truth of the matter is that he believes he enjoys certain things when in fact he really doesn't, not on a deeper level. This is my own extinction protocol."

"Your what now?"

"I'm going to spare you the lecture, but extinction is a psychology technique used to eradicate unwanted behavior. In this case, I'm oversaturating his mind with strong stimuli to see just how far he goes when it comes to humiliation whilst trying to trigger the opposite reaction. In simpler terms, I'm pushing him to the limit until he gets fed up and starts abhoring certain ideas and thoughts patterns. Like I said, therapy."

Clarissa looked at her son and then back at Angela unsure whether to believe her or not. It seemed a much more plausible explanation than thinking that the apple of her eye had turned into a sex-crazed pervert but...

"I think I'm going to take that seat now," she sighed.

"Good idea. Can I get you anything to drink?" Angela pointed at the mini-bar in the farthest corner of the office.

"Not unless you have a 25-year Scotch hiding there."

"Sorry, just water and all the fruit juices you can think of."

"I'm good then."

"Well, I'm not," Angela moved towards the bar and returned shortly after with an unopened bottle of ginger and apple juice in hand. She sat next to her mother but not before making sure Jonah remained perfectly still in his dreamy trance state.

"Humiliation, huh?" Clarissa muttered to continue the conversation.

"Extreme Femdom is his kink. Humiliation is a big part of it or so he told me."

"That's funny."

Angela opened the bottle. "It is?"

"Yeah. Thinking about it right now, I can't say I'm really surprised."

"I sense a story coming up," Angela smiled as she took a sip of her juice. It was quite spicy, just the way she liked it.

"Your father - God keep his soul - also had some... peculiar tastes when we met."

"How peculiar are we talking about?"

"He told me a couple times he dreamt of being cuckolded."

"No way! Dad?"

"Yep. Of course, the first time he said that to me, I had no idea what that meant and... they were confusing times, okay?"

"Did you ever...?"

"God, no! It was just a dirty fantasy that eventually subsided when he realized he was better off doing the fucking than watching me fuck another."

"Look at you, talking dirty all of a sudden!" Angela laughed.

"I talked dirty way before you were born, young lady."

"Feeling better now?"

"I suppose but..." she looked at Jonah again. "It's still..."

"I know. It's not real though. Not entirely at least."

"Not entirely? Are you saying a part of you is actually enjoying humiliating your brother like that?"

"Being in control is exciting, Mom. I'm not going to deny that. Jonah's fantasies are hot when properly directed and contained. I'm going to make sure that happens."

"Do what you must do then," Clarissa acquiesced. She stood up and approached her son. "Just tell me something. How deep is he in order for you to pull his strings like that?"

"Very deep but the depth of trance is infinite, really. Jonah is as suggestible as one can be which makes my job a lot easier."

"I see..." Clarissa waved her right hand in front of his glazed eyes. "He's really not aware of anything, is he?"

"He's completely aware yet completely unaware at the same time. Conscious and subconscious mind operate on different frequencies but they're not entirely separate from one another. Right now, his focus is completely dictated by my triggers and suggestions though."

"He's also still hard as fuck, it seems," Clarissa nodded.

"Mom! Did you seriously just take a peek at your son's boner?" Angela teased.

"I didn't want to but this thing is sticking out like crazy!"

"I need him that way to continue reprogramming him when you leave. Of course, I also need to make sure he doesn't remember you being here at all. I don't want to shatter the illusion any more than it already is."

Angela finished her drink and tossed the bottle away. Clarissa, on the other hand, stood in the same place, silently admiring her skills.

"Something else on your mind, Mom?"

The older woman felt a tingle down her spine and legs.

"You're right, you know?"

"Right about what?"

"There's something quite hot about all of this. I almost want to ask for another..."

"... demonstration? You want to 'go diaper' for me too?"

"No but perhaps you could... I don't know, make him cluck like a chicken right now or something."

Angela laughed out loud. "This is therapy, Mom, not a stage hypnosis show."

"Humor me, please."

"You sure came a long way fast. Okay, I'll show you something neat. Ready?"

"Let me just do something first."

Clarissa picked up a paper tissue and cleaned Jonah's lips. He didn't flinch, staring at the blank infinity and beyond. Phantom voices still echoed inside her mind, all of them saying "Princess Ashley must be obeyed."

"There," Clarissa said. "Much better now."

"Okay then. Jonah, it's time for you to listen to my voice once again. *snap* You need to listen and remember who you are meant to be. You are a slave, Jonah. A mindless horny and obedient servant. Following orders is in your very nature and there's nothing you enjoy the most right now than to do what I say. You will 'go diaper' *snap* and obey. You will 'go diaper *snap* and obey. Tell me what you are going to do right now."

"I will 'go diaper' and obey."

"Why do you obey, Jonah?"

"Because I'm a slave. I'm your slave."

"Very good. Slave, I've been asked to make you do something just to show how much control I have over your mind. I could make you cluck like a chicken or bark like a dog but those are simple parlor tricks. You've already shown me how good you are at masturbating on command so that's out of the picture for the moment as well. I'm at loss here. What shall I make you do that's entertaining enough?"

"I don't know."

"Think, slave. I know how hard it is for you to do that on your own when all you want to do is to let me think for you, but I'm ordering you to think about it anyway. Think of something that would make you roll on the floor laughing if you were to see it right now. Think about that something and then tell me what it is."

"I..."

"That's an order."

"As you wish."

"What's so neat about this?" Clarissa asked.

"You'll see. Be patient."

"Is this another thing Gregory taught you?"

"No, this is something of my own design."

"You never did tell me what really happened between you two."

"You never asked but it was a lot more intense than anything you've seen today, believe me."

While they talked, Jonah's mind pushed and pulled, analysing funny scenarios and exhausting them without saying a word. Nothing he was able to conceive felt appropriate but he had to obey. The gears in his brain kept turning, whirling and whirring, moving from images of laughing clowns to kinky gatherings of leather-clad women inspecting his naked body like he was a beast of burden ready to be used. What was funny in one moment became an abominable thing in the next, only to become funny once again the blink of an eye. He couldn't think, he couldn't...

"Ah!"

"Has your mind reached a conclusion, slave?"

"I would love to see an old 90's comedy right now," he blurted.

"Huh?" Clarissa noted.

Angela frowned. "I certainly didn't see that one coming either but his subsconscious is in charge right now."

"Now what?"

"Let's see where it takes us. Jonah, focus on that comedy you would like to see but, instead of seeing it, I want you to be in it. Become the main character, act out the scene you wist to see but do it properly. You are what you see in your mind right now, and that includes every little details. Even things you can only vaguely remember will come to the surface... speech patterns, mannerisms, the works. You are in the movie, you are the movie. This is your show, your time to shine. Show me who and what you are."

Jonah leapt from the couch and his body exploded in frantic gestures, exaggerated acting, and terrible one-liners punctuated by a neverending grin. His body wiggled as if it was made of malleable clay, fingers shooting imaginary guns left and right. The only thing missing was the proper ensemble of yellow and green.

"Oh my God, is that...?" Clarissa burst into laughter. "He's impersonating Jim Carrey in The Mask, isn't he?"

"I believe so. This is way worse than Femdom Humiliation..." Angela leaned on her mother's shoulder. Together, side by side, the familial ties were undeniable and the young therapist could only hope to age so gracefully as her mother. Apart from a few extraneous wrinkles on her forehead, around the eyes, and by the corner of her mouth, Clarissa looked no older than forty-five.

"Kiss me, my dear, and I will reveal my croissant. I will spread your pate. I will dip my ladle in your vichyssoise!" Jonah shouted, reaching out for his sister as if she was a young Cameron Diaz.

Clarissa continued laughing until her eyes became a pool of tears. "I think this is the part where you kick him away. Please make it stop, I can't..."

At great cost, Angela pushed him aside and regained her composure. "Jonah, that's enough. It's time to forget. Forget the movie. Forget and drop to your knees. Drop to your knees, slave. You want to kneel and obey. You want to kneel and obey."

The Mask disappeared, replaced by the simple existence of a devoted subservient. Jonah's exuberant but incredibly on point impersonation could come in handy in the future when she needed a break from all the extreme fantasies once more but it was time to get back to work. Angela kissed her mother in the forehead and said:

"Mom, it's been great seeing you today, really, but I still have to take Jonah's mind for another ride through Humiliationland before my actual clients arrive. Jonah's issues won't be solved in one day but we've made some remarkable progresses already. All things considered, you've proven to be quite understanding despite what you saw but others probably won't be so..."

"Hmmm, Angie?" Clarissa said, her gaze facing another direction.

"What is it?"

"Don't look now, but it seems you already have another guest."

Contrary to what she had just been told, Angela did look. Standing at the office door's threshold, a pair of letters in one hand and a dripping coffe mug in the other, eyes tainted with mesmeric lust, was Gail, her secretary.

"Shit!"