It was a stick not an arm. His skin was wrapped tightly over angular bone. He had the arm of an emaciated famine victim. Phil could barely lift it up ...nd even then his arm trembled at the exertion.Verdé blushed with embarrassment and looked away from Phil's accusing stare."I still had some appetite," she said."What have you done to me?" Phil said. "I'm skin and bone." Not every where's skin and bone," Rosa said. Her hand lightly rubbed over the sheets covering Phil's crotch and the fabric. I looked at the mirror in disbelief because my face was gaunt like some lost steer out in the foothills with no grass to eat or water to wet his tongue. Kate had shaved me and she did a fine job without a single scratch but it didn’t improve matters much, all things considered. At least I didn’t have the shakes anymore and I could palm my hideout derringer and a winning card with relative ease. She watched me like a mother hen making sure her little chick didn’t do anything too outrageous or. Bobbing her head up and down she could feel the tension growing in her husband’s body. She soaked his cock in saliva and as pulled away. Amy stood still, admiring her work. Her husband tied helpless, his cock standing tall and firm glistening from her spit.Amy maneuvered herself around. The noise made her husband curious. A bang hit the headboard, and he said, “What are you doing?” Amy leaned close to his ear and replied, “Do you want to see something?” Her husband acknowledged by shaking his. I felt so safe there, so cared for – especially when the heavy, sweaty, rough playing was over and you would hold my bound hands and ie next to me. It still amazes me that I can fall asleep with my legs tied spread and my wrists tied tightly together. I would have thought that some part of my subconscience would rebel against such constraints. Such times teach me a great deal about myself and my needs. And now, there is a period of isolation I must endure before I can again afford to give.