Skylar’s outburst is predictable when I present the inch-wide studded leather collar and secure it around her neck. I scoop her bronze tresses out from underneath to brush the lapel of her open leather coat, and cinch the collar to choking point, watching her reactions the whole time. The chain attached to the metal ring at her throat dangles through her cleavage, the delicate flesh either side half concealed by the patte...

Justine flicked her blonde tresses aside and wedged the phone between her cheek and shoulder. “I can meet you in a bit. Like, half ten? Mom reminded me to water Mr. Turner's plants early.” She scrabbled in her cutoffs for the key and lined it up with the back door lock, laughing. “Yeah yeah, that hot guy to our left.” She swung the door and stepped through into the kitchen, the most striking feature being it was so clean...

The woman stared up from the recliner at the study's ceiling tiles, their geometry an irritating counterpoint to the tumbling thoughts beneath her silver bob. Consternation creased her exquisitely manicured eyebrows. "Surely one should not behave in such a manner, should one? It’s simply not proper." She brought cherry polished nails to one cheek and gave it an idle scratch. "At fifty-five, one should know better. But wha...