It was late, and I sat on my bed fresh from the shower rubbing lotion into my skin. This always made me smile, the way my strange little mind works; it always made me think of oiling and massaging a fattening little suckling pig in preparation for the Beast’s feast. This made me laugh at myself and I stretched out on the bed running my hands down my silky body. I reached over and turned the radio up, and as Sean Mullins sang “what a beautiful wreck you are” I smiled and moaned, slipping the first two fingers of each hand into my slickery warmth to wet them. Pulling and tugging at my lips, I squirmed on the bed, just letting the tips of my thumbs run over my clit as I played.

I rolled my head and arched, opened my eyes….and screamed. Master stood there in my bedroom doorway watching me, arms crossed, sexy arrogant smirk on his face. I stared, frozen, as he said to the man standing next to him.

“Filthy whore always has her hands in it.”

He walked over and grabbed one ankle pulling me to the edge of the bed, running his hand up my leg. I opened my mouth and gasped, lifting and spreading my legs prettily. He shook his head and grunted a short laugh as he pushed his fingers inside me. He turned and nodded to his friend who walked slowly over. I watched him through half closed eyes recognizing him suddenly; we had met once before, briefly. Master grasped my leg and pulled, lifting my ass slightly off the bed. His friend grabbed the other leg with one hand and hesitantly touched my glistening thigh with the other. As he slipped a finger inside me I groaned and wiggled. The feel and sight of them both fingering me was incredible and I arched and came with a shuddering sigh.

Master yanked on my leg and stepped back, I yelped at the sudden loss of their fingers as I slid off the bed landing on my knees in front of them.