" "How about next Tuesday at 10:00 AM?" "That sounds fine, George. I'll see you then, and thank Betty for the compliments." At ten Tuesday morning,...Betty greeted me with a smile and took my hand as she led me into the studio. It looked almost exactly as I had imagined except there was no bed. The furniture was sparse with a couch, desk and chair. However, there was a room full of photographic gear. George said, "Hi" and told me he would be filming and that I would be working with Billy Joe. . But when, at some time on each collar night, I would ask "May I suck your cock, Sir?" or "Would you like to use my wet pussy, Sir?" I was teaching him how to fulfill my emotional needs. He still didn't lick my pussy and I think he was even less likely to initiate sex, but I didn't ask for either of those. They would be my signs that I had earned enough respect to trust again.Within two weeks of starting collar night, putting on my collar began to have the desired effect. Since he was learning. It was amateur footage as the caption below told me, and taken from Cowes, Phillip Island. There was another shot of a girl who I assume was the other passenger – I recognised her as Megan. Then one shot of a body, covered up with a white sheet, being wheeled away from the scene. And then there was a glimpse of a bloody, staggering person being helped away from the smoking wreck. I couldn’t see a face or the hair through all the matted blood and grime. I turned off the TV. I’d seen enough. My. ” “Yeah, Ah shit, fuck my hand is jacking off, oh honey pie, your fucking pussy is so wet. I can feel it through this phone. Oh, baby, here it comes, here it comes, I’m cumming, sweetheart, I’m giving it to you…I’m fucking your pussy, baby….oh baby oh babyyyyyyuammuhuham…oh oh, fuck crystal, fuck baby, fuck you’re so good, so sexy. Oh baby I’m gonna sleep with you in my arms in my dreams.” “Craig, I’m gonna get up and email you how high my soul feels right now. Good.