"You what?"
"I got fired. Company's downsizing, and 23 years work don't mean shit. They said I was lazy and incompetent, but that's just bullshit."
Juicy Lucy frowned as Frank Fletcher talked about his dismissal. It was late October and the leaves had just passed their peak of beauty, the leaves were already starting to fall in Lucy's front yard. They sat across her linoleum dining room table, the remains of a simple supper in front of them. "Damn," she said, "What will ya do now?"
"Dunno," Frank said gloomily.
She bustled the dishes to the sink and came back. Taking off her sweatshirt top, her huge flabby breasts bounced as they came into view. "Can ya think of somethin' to do with these to make ya feel better?"
Frank looked up and smiled. Reaching up, he stroked the white skin, tracing delicate circles on her quivering flesh and giving it an occasional teasing pinch. His fingers circled her huge nipples and gave one a twist until a grimace crossed her face. "I can think of somethin' Got a coupla toys to play with."
She smiled wontonly, and raised her eyebrow. "How dya wanna start?"
"With my belt."
"Good," she purred.
Frank took off his leather belt, bending it over double and tracing her white skin with it. Her huge nipples were starting to perk up in the cool air, and she shuddered at the touch of the leather. A sharp crack and a red mark appeared on her left breast. He stroked her again for several moments before snapping another red mark on the creamy skin. Usually when he tortured her breasts, his face was a mask of anger, but this time he was serene, calculating how many gentle touches were interspersed with savage lashes. He could feel the tingle in her abused skin as he touched it, and smiled as her twisted another nipple until she cried out.
Her breasts were decorated with many harsh kisses when he put his belt back on and lifted one heavy mammary to his lips, to lick the scalding hot cherry red bud into rock hardness and chew it. "Damn, Frankie, you know what a woman wants," she moaned, her hand in her crotch rubbing herself through her jeans. She trembled and moaned before she began to shudder in an orgasm that seemed to last an eternity.
Frank smiled. "I'll let it pass this time. Let's go downstairs."
"Why?"
"You've still got your little office down there, don't ya?"
"Yeah."
"And that metal support pole from the floor to the ceiling."
"Yeah. Gotta have those or the house'll fall down."
"Got a new idea. We'll use your rollin' chair."
She cocked her head to one side, curious and concerned. "Okay."
He went to his bag to fetch a couple of items, then followed her downstairs. Her basement was mostly clear, with stacks of old storage boxes a long the walls and a couple of concrete blocks; one little area served as her home office, with a filing cabinet, desk, computer and office chair on wheels. "Have a seat, precious, and put your hands behind your back."
She sat on her chair, and he handcuffed her hands together. "What'cha got in mind?"
"I've got a bungee cord, and I've sharpened the ends with a file as much as I could. Like fishhooks without barbs. Also have a very stiff, wide brush and a quarter inch cane. You like the idea?"
"I don't know what you're going to do with the bungee cord," she said, shaking her head.
"I'm going to put the hooks through your tits and pull them out as far as I can." Pulling her close to the metal support in the floor, he brought out the bungee cord. Lifting her right breast, he sucked and licked the nipple until was rock hard, chewing a little to make certain the rubbery circle as ready. He smiled devilishly as he teased the base of the nubbin, her face a mask of fear, before leisurely thrusting the sharpened hook through it.