My wilting cock started to stir up once again, and a genius little plan began to formulate out of my growing urge.“Actually, I might have an idea.�... I mused out-loud as I calmly dropped my boxers and began lifting the T-shirt off my back.“Which is?” Angie replied, turning her head slightly back, her voice sounding just a little thicker than normal. Again, she shifted her weight to the other hip. I took full appreciation of the movement in her legs, how Angie’s tight little ass under her shorts. Her mouth was distended by the wire frame gag that held it open. Her eyes were staring unblinking from dark hollows in her face. I couldn't work out at first what she was wearing but finally realised it was the tattered remnants of the sweater and skirt that she had on when I'd last seen her, torn by the mistreatment that she had suffered over the last two days. Her tits were purple, and sore, the steel claws of the tit clamps, pinched into her nipples. Her hair was lank and greasy, sticky with. More

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