Chapter 7 Warm Flesh and Hot Grease
As Jack was pulling his grungy black pants back on, Ernie spoke, "Hungry,
Jack? I'll bet blondie here is a good little cook. Ain't you Honey?"
Ernie took the dusty bandanna out of her mouth, so that she could speak.
But she just lay there, her ripe breasts heaving gently, as she tried to regain
her strength. When Honey remained silent, Ernie grabbed a handful of sticky
blonde pubic hair.
"I asked you a question, Honey!!"
"I, I guess so."
"Well c'mon then, sweetie; I'm hungry enough to eat a horse. And put your
panties back on - we don't want to singe those cute little blonde curls of yours
down there." Jack took another long swallow from the bottle of whiskey, and
handed it to Ernie, who did likewise.
They released Honey from her bondage, and watched her pull her white
panties back on; but when she reached for the pink dress, Ernie said, "You won't
be needing that, Honey - them tits of yours are too pretty to cover up."
Blushing, but thankful that she'd at least be able to partly cover herself,
she thought she'd press her luck. "Can I have something to drink? Please?"
"Thirsty, Honey?" Jack asked, as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "I can
see how you might be. Hell, it must be 95 in the shade today. But it ain't
nowhere near as hot as that hell-hole you put me in, slut. Do you think those
fuckin' guards brought me a drink whenever I wanted? Tell you what, Honey, how
about you rustle us up some grub. Do a good job and maybe we'll find you
something to drink."
As she walked back toward the house, her nakedness interrupted only by the
skimpy panties, she could feel the broiling heat of the Texas sun. It was very
uncomfortable on the two dozen or so tiny painful burns that dotted her right
leg. Her splendid breasts and especially the areoles and nipples thatt Ernie
had paid special attention to, were even more sensitive to the oppressive heat.
She passed the trough of water in the corral that the horses drank from --
even that murky water looked pretty good to her right then.
The meal Honey fixed for Slocum and Gibbs was unlike any other she had
prepared. Ernie tied each ankle to a leg of the old wood stove, with a short
tether so that try as she might she couldn't move more than a foot or so away
from the stove. And then Ernie handed her a pound of slab bacon he'd found in
the smokehouse on the far side of the corral. "Fry us up some bacon and eggs,
Honey. But we're kind of in a hurry. If you don't have bacon and eggs on the
table in ten minutes, we're gonna whip your lazy ass. Ain't we, Jack?"
Black Jack nodded darkly, and added, "I like my bacon crisp, Honey," as he
gave Ernie Gibbs a sly smile. And then Jack turned over an egg-timer, one that
Honey didn't recognize.
And now Honey could see why Ernie had winked at Jack when he'd proposed
dinner.
As quickly as she could, she lit the stove and threw the bacon in a pan.
But it didn't take longer than a few seconds for her to realize that she was
going to have to build a hot fire very quickly to have a chance of finishing the
bacon in time.
"Remember, Honey, ten minutes. Or we're gonna beat your fine young ass!"
But as Honey built the fire by adding more wood, and stirring the wood
desperately, the bacon started popping, spitting hot grease at her naked chest
and torso. The tall gunslinger and his short sidekick were elbowing each other,
smirking, as Honey, whose ankles remained tied to the stove, tried to protect
herself with her arms in front of her body.
But try as she might, she still had to turn the bacon, and eventually,
start the eggs. And when she did so, the fiendishly hot specks of grease got
through, spattering her sweaty breasts and belly. With one eye on the
egg-timer, though, Honey gutted it out, trying to concentrate on her cooking,
and biting her lip against the pain of the random spurts of molten grease that
were anointing her breasts with a slippery patina of pain.
At one point, Ernie Gibbs got up from the nearby kitchen table, and reached
for a pitcher of water he'd fetched from the well. He and Jack had pretty well
finished off the bottle of whiskey they'd found. He poured Jack and himself a
tall glass each, which they drank with pleasure while they watched the
dehydrated Honey slave over the hot stove. And then Ernie, smiling walked toward
her, carrying the pitcher.
"At last, something to drink," Honey thought. She reached for the pitcher
with one hand, while stirring the bacon with the other.
But Ernie, giggling softly, with a crazed look in his eyes, merely dipped
his hand into the water to wet it thoroughly, and then shook his hand out over
the hot bacon grease. When the water hit the skillet, the hot grease exploded
into a crackling frenzy. Honey hastily retracted her hands to protect her
breasts, but it was too late - they were quickly peppered by the exploding
bubbles of grease. Ernie was cackling hysterically, and Jack smiled with
sinister amusement, as the grease continued to flare up violently for another
thirty seconds.
Having no other option, Honey tried to ignore the dozens of painful grease
burns on her chest and torso and concentrate on finishing the meal in time.
Finally, just moments before the the last few grains of sand in the timer ran
out, she called out, "Done!" and put tasty looking platters of bacon and eggs on
the adjacent wooden counter for both Slocum and Gibbs.
Her two tormentors left her tied to the hot stove, sweat streaming down her
tall frame, while they ate the bacon and eggs, grudgingly admitting that they
weren't bad. Their eyes rarely left her, feeding on her flesh even as they
feasted on the bacon and eggs. When Jack told her to make some coffee she did
so, but was a little puzzled, when after it was brewed, he decided he didn't
want any. "Later," was his terse comment.
Finally, they were done, and thankfully they looked happy, Honey thought.
"Please, God," she said to herself, "Maybe the worst is over." They'd been
fucked and fed; maybe they'd leave now.
But then Jack rose slowly from the table, stretching his 6' 4" frame and
spoke, "C'mon Ern, it's time to whip her ass for taking so long cookin' dinner."
"Taking so long?" Honey asked imploringly. "I handed you the plates just
before the sands ran out of the timer. Just like you said."
Black Jack grinned evilly at her. "Well, Honey, I guess that makes two
lessons you learned today. The first one is 'Don't never rat on Black Jack
Slocum. The second is 'It's best not to jump to conclusions, when you're
dealin' with Jack Slocum. That there is a twelve-minute timer. Strap her down,
Ern!"
