Today a man spit in my face.
Then, while he held my head in place
until my throat relaxed around his cock,
and moved me into a position
where he could force a toy up my ass,
I thought about how he had voted for Trump.
I wondered if I was a disgrace to feminism.
And then I came.
Then, while he held my head in place
until my throat relaxed around his cock,
and moved me into a position
where he could force a toy up my ass,
I thought about how he had voted for Trump.
I wondered if I was a disgrace to feminism.
And then I came.
Previously published at Horror Sleaze trash and in Sad Discoveries
India LaPlace is kind of like if a dive bar and a dumpster fire had a human baby. She is a poet from the United States and a single mom who is aspiring to be a person with self discipline. Associate Editor at the sensational Horror Sleaze Trash. Generally pleasant, naturally cynical. Easily won over by a good book and a twisted sense of humor. You can find her on Instagram: @indiabrittany
She still loves Louis C.K.
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