Indian Girl

.Unlocking it, I handed him the keys and the brass padlock, and pulled thestrap from the buckle.I opened the gorgeous heavy-duty collar, which gave off such hot mixedsignals with it's promise of total obedience plus the sweet baby pinkleather that almost matched my sissy toes and omg....am I ready...yes I'mso ready for this, I thought silently.With both hands raised in front of me holding the opened collar, Ioffered it to him to put on me.Daddy grinned, the biggest smile I had ever seen on him yet which wasstill maybe a half-grin. He let me raise my styled, but still too-shorthair well off my neck and I lowered my head for him.I felt the leather and Daddy's busy fingers, touching me in such avulnerable spot, him over me, protecting me, and using me, takingpossession of me. And i offer it, Daddy...I need you...He pulled the strap tight, and I felt it going into the buckle. Around,his hands came and he followed with the strap to the metal D ring thatwent through one of the slits in. Some very good looking women would be showing more than their mothers would approve of on an Instamatic Polaroid print. Strangely, the accompanying letters seemed to be the wildest. For some unaccountable reason, these attractive women would describe fantasies far in excess of most imaginations and certainly the middle-aged tub of lard.It was to one of the former that we were headed. Buffy, as she signed, had sent a photo that looked quite professional. The lighting had been expertly placed through what looked as if it might have been Venetian blinds, casting shadow lines of her beautiful body. In all a very tasteful study of the female form, but the letter that went with it was far from tasteful and it was this that had attracted us more than anything. If her claims were even half way true, she could do with a stallion, what most women would find difficult with a small man.Twenty minutes later, soaked through and seriously considering the possibility that the address did not exist,.
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