The collar transitions us both and we instantly fall into our predefined roles.Once the gorgeous lace is clasped, I turn around to look at you, lookin... deep into your eyes. I let my hair drop from where I was holding it and blonde curls spill haphazardly around my shoulders. You position the collar so that it sits perfectly against my throat, a touching and delicate, albeit unnecessary act but one that you complete to showcase your dominance. You see the sudden hunger in my eyes burning deeply. ”“Then you were separated?”“When we were infants.”“How terrible.”“We’re twins.”“Even worse.”“Since we were infants, I never got to know him.”“I think even babies experience trauma. I think they’re affected by being taken from their birth mother, even if, of course, it won’t be remembered. And losing the person you shared a womb with?”“There’s always been ... an absence I guess.”“Thus you’re pursuit of him at such a young age. How old are you. Eighteen?”“Yes,” Karissa lied.“And you just found. More

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