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.