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Gloves

His dirty hard fingers touch me again. In the ribs, then the back, then they slide down and I’m awake, praying that those little pills kick in. There’s enough in me, and he forced three whiskeys down me to ‘loosen up’ before he took his gloves off. They usually like me tight. He likes me as long as I’m quiet. He pays well and often surprises me with little gifts. I tell him to put his gloves back on and shut my eyes. Tight.

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