About
Criss-crossed and knotted, cutting and cut, the binding ropeHolds me, folds me, remolds me to a creature of chainsAnd locks. A creature of silent craving, biting my gag.I’m never so much myself, as when you fasten the collar.My Sade. My Rousseau. My love,...
Zee walked into the bar like she owned it. Like she owned it and wanted to burn it down. She strode over to the pretty, green-eyed bartender without acknowledging the five men gawking at her."Where is she?" Zee demanded."You know, if you gave me your cell...