She grimaced as she felt his fingers crudely poke inside and start to search for wetness. She was dry. With a curse Len grabbed the butter and smeared a gob up into her gash. She felt the cold grease as he worked it into a liquid smear across her crotch. “Please…” she moaned. “Quit your bitching,” he mumbled. Then the fingers were gone and she felt the egg, still in the shell, pressing at her buttered crack. “What are you doing?” she pleaded. “I'm gonna let you play chicken, baby. You're gonna lay an egg for Vic.”
“No… oh, no…” He pushed slowly against the end of the white egg until it sank completely inside her moist, red lips. Then using his fingers he pushed it deep inside her cunt. “Okay, now I want you to hold that little sucker in there.” “I can't,” she moaned.
“It'll fall out.” “Jesus Christ! Hold that fucking egg in your cunt and squat on the floor! I don't want you hatching it until I say so! Understand!” His voice was loud, insistent, and he emphasized each word by unbuckling his thick leather belt. The lump in her pussy was a stretching, filling ball of cold and she knew it could easily break. The horrifying thought of sharp, broken eggshells inside her tender hole made Dorothy move with great caution. She slid from the table and down to the floor. Amazingly, the egg stayed in place.
Len took an empty frying pan and slid it between her feet. “Now squat down over the pan and cluck!” “Oh… God…” In total humiliation Dorothy slowly squatted down, the tee-shirt rode up to her waist and her bare ass was completely exposed. “Very good!” Len laughed. “Now cluck!” A sob escaped her lips and Dorothy started to cry. But she saw him start to withdraw his belt from around his waist and with all the courage she could muster Dorothy moaned, “Cluck! Cluck! Cluck!” “Good girl! Now flap your arms like a chicken!” She stretched her arms out to each side while tears streamed down her cheeks. As she flapped them the breasts poured from the shirt and wobbled endlessly beside each armpit. Len was in hysterics, he slapped his thighs and enjoyed her demonstration completely. His eyes also teared up, but from laughter. “Okay, my little chickadee… Now lay your egg!” he howled with mirth.
Dorothy's lips were quivering with each breath as she did her best to relax, to let the egg slide from her. It took more than that, she had to tighten her stomach muscles and push, force the large thing from her cunt. It moved very fast once it started, it slid from her wet pussy lips and dropped straight down into the waiting frying pan and cracked open. “Yeah! Great shot!” Len cried with victory.
“Now you wait for Vic to get back and fry that nice egg up for him. I want to see him gobble it down!” Dorothy's face held a firm expression of pure hatred as she stood up and pulled the shirt down to cover herself. As she pushed her breasts back inside Len stepped real close and hissed, “And if you tell him what we did with that egg I'll make you eat one that comes out of your asshole!” Her whole face trembled and more tears burst from her red, pleading eyes. Len laughed heartily as she finished his breakfast and served him. He made her stand at the side of the table while he ate and each time he wanted his mouth wiped he turned to her. She was forced to use the shirt as his napkin, to stretch it up to his puckered lips and pat away the grease. When he was done she had to wipe his face with her breasts, back and forth, back and forth until they slid once again from the inadequate attire. “Shit, those tits of yours are just like two more big fried eggs,” he remarked. “I think for tomorrow's breakfast I'll have you tuck some toast and bacon between them… then I'll eat it all up. Jelly too.” Dorothy did her best to remain silent and ignore his stares as she did the dishes. But he didn't let up on her for one minute during the whole morning. A sense of great relief came over her when she heard the truck pulling into the driveway. Vic was back; at least he might stifle some of Len's disgusting, humiliating games and stunts. Vic was shocked by her outfit and wanted to know why. Len told him it was a security measure, he had her clothes in their bedroom. She wouldn't dare try to escape with nothing on but his scandalous undershirt. Vic sat at the table while Dorothy fried his egg along with two others. Len watched in silence, a smug grin on his face. “I got your pay here,” Vic said. “Two hundred thirty dollars.” “Two hundred thirty? It's ten short!” Len complained.
“I know! I had to pay for the groceries. They came to twenty bucks, ten each!” “Oh! But what about the hundred you owe me from that poker game last month?” “Aw, shit Len, I'll pay you that but not this week. I need my money…” “Horseshit! You been telling me that all month! Pay up for Christ's sake!” Vic grudgingly peeled off five twenty dollar bills and gave them to Len. “I ain't ever gambling with you again, dammit.” Len laughed. “Not even flipping the coin?” “Shut up.” Vic devoured the eggs Dorothy placed before him as Len forced himself to keep a semi-serious expression. After eating his breakfast Vic looked over at the smug face of his brother and said, “Okay, you've had most of the morning with her-now I want my turn.” “Sure, Vic. She's yours,”
Len magnanimously answered. “Alone. In private.” “What? You bashful or something?” Vic frowned. “No, I just don't want you in the way. You have a way of turning things into a disgusting mess.”
“Hah ha ha! Look who's talking?” Len laughed. Dorothy wanted to die with humiliation as she sat there listening to the two animals argue over who got her when and how. Anger flushed her cheeks but she couldn't bring words to her mouth. It was the attire. The embarrassing, scandalous shirt bothered her so much she wanted to attract as little attention as possible. Vic was on his feet and pulling her by the wrist from the room as he yelled back at his jeering brother, “Remember now, you stay out until I'm done!”
“Eat shit,” Len snorted. “Goddamn asshole, I think you're falling for her, that's what I think.” “Just stay out!” He dragged Dorothy back into her bedroom and closed the door. As a precaution he braced a chair under the doorknob. Then he faced Dorothy. His eyes couldn't help but drink in the tightly dressed lumps of abundant flesh and curves. She shakily pushed her hail out of her eyes and wondered what he was thinking. She was surprised as he said, “Listen, I'm sorry if he did anything nasty this morning. I had to go into town, it bothered me to leave you here with him alone.” “I survived,” she dryly said. “I didn't like what he did last night, either,” Vic continued. “You know, making you use your mouth like that.” It suddenly occurred to Dorothy that she was dealing with a real thick-headed dumb-bell. He was offended because Len had made her suck his cock. What an ass! She had actually enjoyed it after driving the ugly face of Len from her mind. She looked at Vic with all the innocence she could muster and batted her long eyelashes. “That's very considerate of you, Vic.” “Thanks,” he said. Then he swallowed.