She sashays into the clearing like a supermodel on a Milan catwalk, leather fuck me boots sewn into her thighs, piercings from her clitoris to her nipples, and her eyelids sewn open for that constant look of surprise.
“Don’t bore me with sorrow darling, I don’t care to know it!”
We Are Our Suffrage – 50 Word Story
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Twisted Roads - Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks 
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