Prince Kropotkin's African Adventure:

"Evidence-based policy? Yeah, neoliberal policy is working out great for sweatshop workers right?"

As /u/prince_kropotkin clicked the save button he did not relax in his chair; there was too much to do, too many edgelords to fight and too many centrists to whine at. His post rate had exceeded all expectations and even /r/PKDefenseForce couldn't keep up with his arguments.

/u/prince_kropotkin's gaze fell away from his screen and landed on his custom-made Zoe Quinn poster. Almost immediately he felt a stirring in his loins. Maybe he did have time for a break. After all, he had been effortposting non-stop for 7 hours now...

In need of release, PK kicked away from his desk over to his drawer and grabbed his tub of burnt cork. With a sigh he stood up and began to apply the rough paste to his body, already having been naked at his desk. Soon he was covered from head to toe in the black substance.

PK knelt on all fours on his bed in front of his remote-control machine dildo, the head of the dildo probing his anus. Clasping the button to operate the machine he did not press it; there was still more to come. Closing his eyes, The Prince's mind went to Madagascar. He was a proud Tsimihety comrade in an anarchistic utopia. Having settled down in his mud hut after a 14 hour day of subsistence farming he prepared for another hour of leisure time staring at his wall before bed.

Suddenly, black PK's stick door was broken apart. A large man with at least 6" in height on him threw him down. It was the community male feminist. With no police or law there was nothing that could be done to save the weaker men. PK tried to resist but was beaten down with every attempt at escape.

As the man pressed his erect member against PK's tight frickhole, PK, barely aware of reality at that point, just managed to switch on his dildo machine. In his head, the male feminist began fricking him roughly. Every thrust came with a loud cry of pain and arousal. His neighbours were scattering from their huts to hide; they knew the male feminist had claimed another victim. PK couldn't handle the intensity for long and he was soon on the verge of orgasm.

"FRICK MY BUSSY!" The words escaped from his mouth whether he wanted them to or not. As he came, PK was brought back to reality. The machine continued to roughly mangle his rectum even though he was drained. Pressing the off-switch, The Prince collapsed onto his front, panting. Already his thoughts began to turn to /r/neoliberal. No time to waste, The Prince began to compose himself, ready for another session of educating the ideologically handicapped.

https://old.reddit.com/r/Drama/comments/6fugbp/prince_kropotkins_african_adventure/

>I'm currently starting a bit of digging back into the archives to find out a little more about PK. I didn't get to read up on him or interact with him during the heyday of /r/drama, mostly because I was young and didn't find leftist infighting very funny or intriguing. I'll try to do a write-up on him sometimes.