Wrizzit
For everything, down to the scribbles.
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I don’t need a dominatrix to fulfill some unspoken emotional need or repressed desire for kinky, psudeo-sexual gratification. No. I need a dominatrix who will make me sit down and fucking write. Though it would be nice if she dressed in leather, spiked boots, librarian glasses, carried a riding crop, a red pen for editing, and spoke with a posh British accent. The more I think about it, the more I realize this could be an untapped market.
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