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When I was a little girl I would listen to Tim Buckley’s “Song to the Siren” and fancy myself a gorgeous man-eating mermaid, able to break a man at the crook of my finger. However my 21 years on this earth has led me to realize that most men aren’t worth even dirtying my hands for. Especially not those willing to dash themselves upon the rocks of financial domination. Welcome, pig. Prepared to be broken lovelorn.
Visualize your life, my dear. Your pathetic job, your boring wife. The paunch you drag your sloppy shirts over to hide the fact that you are slowly losing control of yourself. Allowing every second of every day to drag into ever increasing monotony. You are stupid and worthless. Let me give you purpose. Let me take control.
If allowed to serve me you must surrender yourself to me entirely. Your morality and dignity will mean nothing. I am your Goddess. I will define your morality, and I will destroy your dignity for my own entertainment. And you will throw your gold at my feet and beg for more, because you know that there is nothing in this world more important than my happiness and attention.
I do not keep pets unworthy of my time. I will not remind you of your purpose, nor do I keep those who need be reminded. I maintain a lavish lifestyle, and if your money barely funds the cab home you shouldn’t be here. My pen is full of peacocks.
Here's how I play:
-tasks and protocols
-propose something, you just might get lucky (for the right price)