They were her kind of guys - hard-up, very horny, and couldn't get laid in a two-bit whorehouse if they walked around whistling and swinging a sack of...quarters. She saw them as down-trodden masses who couldn't make passes or get off first base without a seeing-eye dog who knew that the way home to pork chops was past second to third, then hang a left.They were welcome any time, day or night. Beer was free and plentiful, always food to eat, a bed to crash in, and if you love looking at great. ‘Nineteen, Master,’ I say louder. Master strikes one more time and we cry out, ‘Twenty Master, thank You Master!’ Master drops the paddle back down on the bed and goes to get a drink. Sitting down, He looks at us still in position, panting and sweating. ‘Lay down on your backs, and legs open bitches. Make sure the clamps stay in place.’ We both sit up together, and looking at each other we try to work out how to lay down as Master has asked without causing each other more pain. Master’s sharp. More

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