Juicy Lucy's Barbeque

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Frank tortures Lucy's tits outside.
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Part 7 of the 7 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 07/09/2009
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It was moving toward the late afternoon of July 4, and Frank hustled west on I-80. It had been a little time since he'd visited Lucy Lewis in Kearney, Nebraska, and once again he was anxious to see her again. It was to be a weekend together: she was going to treat him like a king and do anything he wanted. He glanced at the fireworks sitting in his back seat and grinned evilly.

Lucy had moved again since he'd last seen her, and she was living in a small farmhouse three miles outside of town. This pleased him, since he could now enjoy every whimper and cry from her without having to fill her mouth to safeguard the police breaking on from neighbor's complaints. It also meant they could do anything they wanted outside, and he was eager to play outside.

It took him a few minutes to navigate the back roads outside town before he found the place, but soon he pulled into a long lane that lead up to the little domicile. A field next door was full of dairy cows grazing languidly in the late afternoon sun, brown and white, and they regarded him dully as he got out of the car and unloaded his stuff. The place fit her description perfectly, so he put his bag through the front door then carried his explosive cargo around to the back.

A picnic table was laid for two with a checkerboard tablecloth. A couple of anti-insect torches burned fragrantly, and Lucy herself was standing next to a huge grill burgeoning with ribs. She was slaving in front of the heat, wearing a white apron over a pink halter top, blue jean shorts and bare feet. He dropped his load and covered the ground between them to grab her savagely from behind and reach under her top to squeeze her huge breasts in his meaty hands.

She ground her chubby hips back into him, encouraging his erection just beginning to arise in his jeans. He wore a St. Louis Cardinal t-shirt and sandals over his pudgy frame, and a Redbird hat covered his balding pate. His hands continued to pinch and squeeze and twist as they roamed her ample flesh, and she sighed and closed her eyes.

"I hate to say this, but you need to stop that so I can finish these ribs 'fore they burn."

He let her go and sat down on the bench. "If you burned them, you'd have to be punished."

She turned and gave him a cheeky smile. "Mr. Fletcher, you'd punish me anyways, but it'd be a sin to waste this lovely meat."

Chuckling, he shook his head. "Yeah, it would. These cows over here yours?"

"Nope. They's Frank Larsen's, milk cows. Don't mess with their udders, Frank'll shoot ya for messin' with his income."

Another laugh. "There's only one cow here whose udders I'm gonna mess with." An explosion in the distance, followed by a string of popping noises followed. "Nothin' like fireworks on the 4th. You sure we can see the show from here?"

She turned around, smiling. "Yep. I was here last year, got a great look. That's how come I found out this place was for sale, took me almost a year to come up with the down payment."

"Great. Now I can make you scream as loud as I want."

"Yeah, baby, turns me on." She turned the slabs and slathered on some barbeque sauce. "I gotta go inside and git the rest of the stuff. You wanna beer?"

"What kind ya got?"

"Bud Light"

"Standard issue for a St. Louis boy. Bring it on." Lucy reached into a large cooler and pulled out a frosty bottle, then opened it to fill a frosty glass she kept right there. "You're not bad, girl," he murmured as he accepted the lager.

A couple minutes busting back and forth and the table was laden with fresh potato salad, ears of steaming corn on the cob, warm rolls and butter, and sliced watermelon. She produced a large platter and pulled the meat off the fire, letting it rest to optimum eating temperature.

"Lucy, I'm overwhelmed. Never knew you could do that."

"Oh yeah, how d'ya think I got this fat? I love to eat."

"Me, too. And stuff like this gave you those floppy udders I love to hurt."

She smiled and started buttering an ear of corn. "You're going to be a tease for a while, aren't you?"

"At least until after dinner." They laid into the repast with few words, relishing the sensual feel and taste of the food, ignoring the need for napkins, until sated. Their faces and hands were greasy from butter and barbeque sauce, and after cleaning up from their feast, they finished with fresh wedges of watermelon, sweet enough to eat unseasoned.

After clearing the table, she cracked a fresh beer for him, and asked: "How would you like to start, honey?"

He slapped her hard across the face. "Who said you could call me that?"

"Sorry."

"Did you fix your clothespins like I asked you?"

"Yeah, I drilled holes through 'em and laced them together with string."

"Did you leave some length at the end?'

"Yeah, just like you told me."

"Good. I think I'll start with them." She went into the house to fetch them while he lit a punk and set off a couple of firecrackers. Coming back out, she put the bag on the table, sat down and waited. Fiendishly, he tossed a couple of firecrackers her general direction and laughed as the small explosions made her jump. "Now to get started. I think I want you over by the end of the clothesline."

There were no trees on her farm, so the clothesline was held up by to metal T shaped frames. Some sheets were already hanging on the line, bright white in the fading light. He produced a roll of duct tape from his sack, and motioned her to come over to stand with her wrists close to the crossbeam, where he secured them with several layers. She stood quietly before him, allowing him to confine her without resistance, looking up at him. Looking around, she said: "It feels weird having those cows over there." The cows were chewing their cuds, looking blankly over at them.

"I'm surprised they haven't gone back to the barn with all these noisemakers going off."

"The kids next door been shooting them off all week."

"Well, if they want to stay, they can, I like the fact they'll be able to see me abuse your udders. Maybe they'll get jealous." She turned her head away in disgust. "Kiddin', Juicy, just kidding; By the way, do you got anythin' more to say right now?"

"Say? Why?'

"Cause I'm gonna tape your mouth shut."

"Oh. No."

"Good." He took a piece of duct tape and put it over her mouth. "I'll let you scream out loud later, when it suits me. Now to give those floppy udders some air." With a flourish, he ripped her halter top off and let her pendulous orbs hang in the light. The sky was still bright blue although the sun was just beginning to turn a shade of red. Taking out a digital camera, he took some pictures of her while she protested through her bound lips. "I don't care, Lucy. If I want pictures of your floppies, I'll take them and do anything I want with them. Just for that, we'll start with the yardstick."

The cows watched blankly as she stood there, naked except for a pair of cutoffs, her nipples perking in the breeze. For several moments, Frank took his pleasure at setting off firecrackers next to her from behind, throwing them close and giggling as they went of next to her as she writhed and yelped in fear. Then he reached around with the yardstick and laid it on her breast, covering as much flesh as he could, before bringing it up and down with a smack. A large red mark appeared that almost ran the length of her tit, from armpit to aureola. He grinned manically, lining up another shot, listening to her whimper as she waited several moments before he raised and lowered the wood again. He switched sides, and leisurely covered the side of her other boob with red before coming to the side and lining a blow on both nipples. Their eyes met, and he held his ground for several minutes as her eyes traveled up and down.

A double set of smacks made her holler through her gag, and they were followed quickly by another set of 2, with a third set soon after that. Taking a clothespin off the line, he grabbed her nipple and used it to lift her heavy boob up to hit is several times on the milky underside. This was repeated on the other side, as large streams of tears coursed down her cheeks. "Ready to cum yet, bitch?" he demanded, and her head wobbled in negation. "Guess we need to speed this up a little then." The yardstick went into overdrive, smacking pearly flesh all over turning it red, until her big body started to shake and quiver. "C'mon, my little heifer, time to milk out your first load of pussy juice. Show these cows what a tit torture orgasm looks like."

Her climax partly dislodged the tape over her mouth, her legs dancing a jig of delight as her crotch sprouted a huge wet spot. "Oh, that was so good. So good. Thank you, Mr. Fletcher, thank you."

The cows stood in rapt attention, calmly chewing their cuds, their tails swishing away flies. The sky was darkening as the sun lowered into the West, and a distant roar of a souped up engine flew down the roads far away. Frank took out his camera and took some good pictures of the angry red lines on her white skin.

"Look what you did to your shorts, you slutty little cow," he said, ripping the tape off her face. "You've been a bad, bad girl. I'm going to have to take them off you, and punish that big bare ass of yours for making me do that. But first, I'm going to shoot off some of these fireworks I brought, before the big show starts from town. You can just stay there and watch the show, but first, I think it's time for the clothespins."

With that, he took the strands of wooden clothespins out of the bag and started methodically pinching them into her breast meat. He worked in circles from the outside in, settle it up that when he pulled the string, they would come off from the outside first. Smiling broadly, he twisted her buds before putting the last string around the ends of her aureolae and ending with one on her nipple. Stroking them, she whimpered. "How does that feel, my little slut?"

"It hurrts," she moaned dreamily.

"What?" he demanded, pulling the ones on her buds a little."

"It hurrrts," she said louder.

"I hope so. Now for the moonrise." He unbuttoned her fly and pulled her sodden shorts down to the ground, leaving them around her ankles. Picking up the yardstick, he went around behind her. "Time for another little dance. Feel free to sway with the music."

He laid out a harsh rhythm on her flesh, making her moan and whimper. First one side, then the other, and back again, taking care to hit each part of her skin twice in a row, and varying the intensity from relatively light taps to harder smacks. At first, red stripes appeared on her ass, growing redder and broadening in the dying light, then growing to bright imitations of the glowing orb fading toward the horizon.

With a sharp crack, the yardstick broke, leaving Frank with a foot long piece in his hand. "Damn, I hate it when that happens. Time for some fireworks, then we'll have some more fun. In the meantime, we'll just let those clothespins keep pinching your uddders."

In a clear spot a hundred feet away, Frank set up a series of items to set off in order, held in place by a series of piping he got from his car. The sky grew dark and darker, the sun descended, and the cows wandered back to their barn. Lucy shivered a little as a stray breeze played across her skin, and her butt burned brightly from her spanking. She couldn't see the color of her skin under the clothespins, and wondered how soon he'd remove them.

He started setting off the charges, and different colors and forms blossomed in the air. She was taken by the variety of fireworks he'd chosen, and how artfully he timed them. Occasionally, he lit a firecracker and tossed it her direction, just to see her jump. His show lasted for ten minutes, the last a lovely pattern that spread petals of electricity across the sky overhead. From farms nearby, other rockets shot skyward in the dusk.

He took out his camera and took some more shots of her, focusing on the forest encasing her breasts. Coming back over to her, he gripped her face and kissed her hard, chewing her lower lip a little. "How do you like the show so far, Bossie? Ready to moo again?"

"It's wonderful. Why don't you take these things off my tits?"

"Cause I'm not ready yet, and for that, you'll need to be punished. Spread your legs." She wiggled and moved them a little, but was confined by her shorts at her ankles. "Shit, I forgot." He reached down and held them for her to step out of. "Now, spread 'em." She complied, moving them farther as he indicated by tapping her thighs, until he was happy. "Count the blows."

"Count what blows?"

A smack directly to her lower lips made her yelp. "I don't like that."

"I don't give a rip. Count the blows till I get to ten."

"What if I don't want to?"

"You want to go the rest of your life with your tits covered in clothespins?"

"One." He smiled and hit her again with the broken end of the yardstick, a foot long piece in his hand. "Two. Three, ouch. Four. Five. Six, goddam, goddam,goddam,goddam, Seven. Eight, owuowuowuowuo, Nine." She panted and waited for the last blow, her slit on fire, until a tension in the clothespins told her something more was up. Three sharp smacks were given as he pulled all the clothespins off her breasts, making her writhe and scream for several minutes after they were gone. He watched her dance of agony with a sick smile on his face.

Going to the frame, he ripped the tape from her wrists and let her move freely again. She rubbed them, then her breasts. "You're evil," she muttered.

He grabbed her face and pinched. "You love it and you know it. Let's get out the chairs and watch the show."

"Can I put something on?"

"Shit no, I got plans."

They arranged a couple of lounge chairs on the lawn to watch the city show, which was started by a single thunderclap. He fetched them fresh beer, and they sat and drank watching the wondering of lighting and sound as the show was accompanied by distant music. A few distant clouds were giving their own electric show in competition with the spectacle, and distant thunder growled in counterpoint to the nearer explosions.

The show wasn't as long as past years, the economy of Nebraska being crippled by the current tides of fortune, and after fifteen minutes it was done. "Gosh, Juicy Lucy, I can hardly see you," he said.

"Well, I can be all women now, Mr. Fletcher. I've heard we all look alike in the dark."

"I don't think it should be that dark." Ripping a big piece from his roll of duct tape, he bound her wrist to the armrest of the lounger, then proceeded to do the same with her other arm and her legs.

"What's next?" she asked.

"You'll see," he said, taping her mouth shut and going off to the house with a flashlight. She sat looking up at the stars, seeing more fireworks in the distance and flickers from the horizon. Her skin was still tender from his abuse and tingled. Anticipation of what he would do next made her wet in expectation: clearly he had something else he wanted to do.

The light bobbed as it returned, and soon came to her side. "I've got something for you, my little cow. Something that is good for the eyesight: carrots. Freshly peeled and damp. But you're not eating them."

"Mmmm?"

"No. One is going up your ass and the other's going into you cunt."

"Hmm mm mm."

"There's something else for dessert, but all things in time." Putting the light to illuminate his target, he moved her hips to expose her portals. "All right, here comes that anal intruder." She felt a tingle as the cool vegetable touched her sensitive muscle, and relentlessly worked its way in. He'd carved a lump three inches up as a guide, leaving two as a handle, and when he got to his guide, he stopped. "I know this is as far as you've taken before. Now to warm you up a little." His fingers began to play with her slit, making her clitoris peek out, and working magic there until she was dripping. Then the other orange weapon began its entry, sliding cooly up her hot slot until it was almost all the way in. He moved it in and out a little, making her squirm.

Then he took a bungee cord and began binding her breasts. He went around and around, restricting the blood flow, and as he hooked the ends together, her breasts were already starting to respond by becoming more taut. Smiling, he watched their progress, occasionally flicking a nail against her rubbery buds.

Turning off the light, he stood up and looked down on her. "No more mister nice guy. Now for something completely different, something that will light up your night." Taking a lighter, he lit a sparkler, which started glowing and sputtering. He waved it around, and her eyes grew large as she realized what would happen. "Time for some illumination my dear, time so see those udders react to the sparklers."

First, he traced some patterns in the night, ending with the word COW. Then he brought the wand closer and closer to her body, letting the sparks find their way to her flesh, making her skin light in the dark. He got to the end of one, and used it to light a green one, which he moved up and down all over her breasts, as she yipped through her gag. Occasionally, he would let it get too close to her skin and she howled.

The second one gave out, and he used it to light two red ones, which moved all the way up and down her body, paying attention to her thighs before coming up to circle her breasts again. She was shuddering in fear and arousal, and putting the wands together, he began to pump the carrots, first the one in her ass, then the one in her cunt as he continued to buzz her flesh with the electricity. Her shuddering became stronger, breaking the tape, and Frank thought he had never seen her as turned on as she was at that moment. His erection was rock hard and began to scream for attention, but he held fast to his task, taking her up to the brink of orgasm twice before finally pushing her over the edge.

The last sparklers burned out, and he finally unleashed his cock. Her eyes looked up at him, shining in the starlight, as he ripped the tape off her mouth, pulled out her dentures and stuffed his cock between her lips. Her mouth became a vacuum, her tongue swirled like a tornado, and her throat opened in expectation. Bringing his leg over, he straddled her lounger and pumped his manhood into her face. Her wrists were still bound and her legs were going up and down with the vegetables still firmly planted in her. It was only a minute or so before his rocket took off, sending its electric blossom deep into her throat, where her darkness eagerly swallowed it.

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