Tiffany closed her eyes and shuddered. Those boys had had some good ideas of their own. It had been her responsibility to reach back and hold the funnel upright so Buford could ladle in the tobacco spit and chicken droppings. In order not to spill any, she had to remain still and keep her head down and her bottom up. Watching her struggle to hold still, the twins had resolved to help her.
Buford’s boys had soon found themselves a pair of beat-up old rat snap traps, after which Tiffany’s teats had soon found themselves carefully rigged with spanking if not new booby traps. After Buford had had Tiffany release the funnel and sit back until the wide end of the funnel was resting on the floor and she was resting on the narrow end, he had had her cup her breasts in her hands and lift them up in sacrificial offering to the twin Tin Gods. The twins had then got to work. Mindful of their fingers, the boys had carefully pulled back and released the hammers a number of times, until the traps had latched on to Tiffany’s nipples correctly and to the boys’ satisfaction. Although Tiffany had done practically nothing but moan and groan the whole time the boys had been busy doing all of the work of fitting her out with her new gear, her whining had not seemed to annoy the good-natured twins, who had just laughed at her complaints.
Buford had been amused as well and had pulled out his own cell phone to take some pictures of Tiffany in her new trappings: “Say ‘cheese’!”
Once Tiffany had been satisfactorily fitted out, Junior and Junior had drawn the traps down and out until the traps had lain flat on the floor. Next, the boys had anchored the traps in place with a foot and stood up. Having secured Tiffany by her nipples, the twins had managed to restrict her movements appreciably, although her bottom was still describing a small circle. Gratified by the results, the thoughtful boys had then turned their attention to finding more sources of nourishment for the cute “Bottom Feeder”, their pet name for her….
Buford snapped his fingers to wake her from her reverie. Tiffany jumped, her tit tips atingle.
Buford smirked at the sight of her pokies, then went on with his story: “Before I reached for the funnel, I took another look at those enchanting lips. They obviously wanted to play, peeking out at me like that, and suggesting to me that they would be a helluva lot more fun to use than any old stick to clean off my boots. I couldn’t argue with that, so I tried to stick the toe of my boot between them, to part them a little so I could get a better view. When I did that, you squirmed and spread your legs enough for me to get the toe in between them and then press down on them and spread them apart until they lay flat. They had blossomed beautifully, opening up like the petals of a flower. They looked so open and inviting, splayed out like that, and were just begging me to use them.”
Buford smiled at the memory. “I couldn’t resist them; and I figured that, since you had been in no hurry to get fed, there was no reason for me to get in any hurry to feed you either: That rubber hose certainly wasn’t going anywhere.”