I know the recent sparsity of updates is torturing some of you. Rest assured, I've been writing one substantial post a month because I've been busy, not because I have nothing to say. I have a few epic posts coming, and I'll try to produce them before 2015 ends. I can't think of a Christmas gift better than additional lures to tribute.
Speaking of gifts, I know my Amazon wish list is quite thin right now. With more than $14,000 in purchases, it can be tough to find things I want. Fucktoy has been lamenting that it's impossible to buy me a gift: I already have everything. I'll probably add a few items, but cash is always the best gift of all.
On to the stories!
Maxed Out
You haven't seen this cash fag's name here since May. Yeah, he made it almost six months without me fucking his wallet, which is quite surprising when you consider his previous consistency. Oh, Maxed Out added and deleted me many, many times in that six month span, confessing his desires before backing away or going silent. When you find yourself doing that, the clock starts to run on breaking down and giving in. The hand is only fulfilling for so long, and eventually Maxed Out craved my greedy touch after long settling for men who don't expect as much of him.
"You finally going to get fucked?" I asked when he messaged me in November, fully expecting that he would go silent yet again.
"Yes sir - want to take what's yours?"
"I've been waiting too fucking long. Get Teamviewer open, cash fag," I instructed, still assuming that he would disappear.
"Yes, sir."
And then, after six months, Maxed Out at long last pasted his credentials into Skype. The next cash rape was finally going to happen. I logged into his computer and turned my cam on, Maxed Out having the pleasure of seeing my face once more. Looking at Paypal, already logged in and ready, I saw the list of mediocre characters Maxed Out has been paying lately, my name glaringly absent.
"So these are the guys who have been taking all of my money," I complained. Now it was my turn. I didn't want to scare Maxed Out off, so I made it relatively painless, filling in $75 and sending it off. I could hear Maxed Out stroking his dick. Honestly, I was impressed he didn't shoot immediately, as quick as he is to cum compared to our past encounters. I took another $75 and he was still stroking. It was time to see how far I could press Maxed Out for the night. I increased the amount to $100.
"$250 in 6 minutes. Reminds you of old times, doesn't it?" Just as I was about to take another $100, Maxed Out's cock erupted. "That's better," I typed after the Skype call ended. At least I got something for his orgasm this time.
Around half an hour later, Maxed Out sent me another message: "I missed being drained by the best."
This cash faggot has also lost $150 in December. He had the pleasure of watching me stroke my dick during that session, but he came so fast I didn't even have time to get hard. His loss. And maybe that's exactly what Maxed Out was afraid of, since some of our best cash rapes were accomplished as I worked my fat cock.
As of this writing, I've been deleted from Skype again. Haha. What a pitiful and meaningless attempt at self-control.
London
London hasn't been mentioned here in more than a year because he pissed me off back in the fall of 2014. I told him to fuck off, and I repeated that instruction with every subsequent Skype add in the course of the next year. That must have happened half a dozen times--obviously he really missed me. Some guys, seeing that a slave has millions of dollars in the bank and pays $500 at a time, are willing to tolerate misbehavior and bullshit. Not me.
"You do realize this has to work out between you and me somehow," London wrote in November.
It doesn't have to work out, of course. It works out if I permit it. But I asked how it could possibly work out when London had no means to pay (one of the problems we had). Apparently he's resolved that issue, since $500 quickly made its way to my account.
"You don't waste any time, do You?" London asked about the amount. I told him that I'd based it on his most recent tribute to another master.
The faggot said he was surprised I thought I was "on par with that Master." Indeed, I'm not. It's something we both realize. It's why he reached out to me so many times as he was paying the other guy. London confirmed that: "You're better. Why else would I keep tabs on You?"
The conversation turned into a rehashing of London's past failures, which I'm endeavoring to forget, so I'll mention just one line: "Listen. There's something about You. Period."
Yeah, there is. That's what everyone seems to realize. In the ever-expanding universe of masters, London has inexorably gravitated toward me. Chance is an inadequate explanation of my ability to attract the most intelligent and highest-earning slaves. That capacity reflects who I am. It's what makes me unique in the cash scene.
I needed a couple weeks to sequester those bad chapters of our history, but I've decided to permit London to continue serving. After a year struggling in the darkness, I'm confident he finally appreciates his place. We'll see.
Number One
"Still Number One?" the slave asked back in June. I hadn't heard from him since his dismissal in March.
"Not lately," I typed back. Faggot ATM was already starting to rival Number One in terms of lifetime total. "Can always make up for that though."
His payment accounts were still shuttered, but he wanted to see me. After determining that Amazon was functioning, I ordered Number One to send a couple gift cards, and we had a brief chat. "Wanted you to know [that I'm] doing better," the slave wrote. "See you soon. Maybe tomorrow."
He's not so good with dates. A few months later, back in October, I woke up to find messages from an obviously eager Number One. He had some time alone, and with his payment account finally working, he was hungry to get used. After a $20 test amount successfully arrived, I called him on Skype.
Looking at me, Number One's dick was rock hard. Of more interest, though, was the remnant of "Slave" written on his body.
"Been getting used today, haven't you?" I asked.
"A little," he admitted. "But needed you. No others work like you."
Logging in with Teamviewer, I sent myself a few small payments as Number One stared at me. When the account stopped working, Number One surprised me by logging into a second one. That's where all of his other misdeeds that day, as it turns out, had been recorded. I saw more than $1,000 in $100 increments, after Number One had the audacity to complain about his "limited funds." Our friend is back to his old habits. I sent myself $100 from that account, and that's when Number One's partner called to announce that he would be arriving home shortly. Fortuitous, since I probably would have ended up with at least $2,000 otherwise.
The slave said that he would be on a trip the next day and available again. "If we can go long and slow and low tomorrow, it will work," he typed. A few minutes later, he was gone again. You might be disappointed to learn that the epic draining I had planned for that trip never happened, but I had a realization after talking to Number One that day.
I've noticed Number One getting used since his departure in March, aside from the evidence in that second payment account. Having drained him so many times, it's always obvious to me who other masters are bragging about. Number One's choice of other masters has seemed bizarre. With one exception (a guy who used him a single time), they're relatively unknown men, which was puzzling given Number One's initial affinity for me. As I saw those other men market their triumphs with Number One in the weeks following that small October drain, it occurred to me that he was one of the only significant slaves they have, and perhaps the only one.
Number One's absence makes more sense in that light. Thinking back to that "long, slow, and low" line, I understood that he's been devoting himself to masters who will give him more attention. As much as Number One might crave me--he called me the "best" several times in that October conversation--I don't pretend to offer the most value for the money. It's antithetical to the idea of financial domination. That's why a lot of slaves aren't interested in me, and that's perfectly fine. I don't intend to change.
All that said, I'm quite sure you haven't heard the last of Number One, even if he has been just a shadow of himself lately. He'll crave me again.
Chifag
No, this pathetic loser hasn't cracked yet, but I do want to take this opportunity to publicly admonish him for his most recent blunder. Chifag has avoided me for more than a year after I took $1,000 from him last December. He's been a shadow ever since, periodically emailing me when he was feeling weak but never breaking down. The pussy thinks that he can quit getting cash raped despite all of the contrary evidence: he's been consistently paying other men ever since he tried to cut me off. Small amounts, true, but the money is still flowing. There is no quitting.
Called out on this fact, Chifag claimed that at least he can retain some control with those others. Except that's bullshit. Trying to insulate himself completely backfired.
"I owe you so much it scares me to think of you taking it all at once," Chifag wrote in November. Why does he owe me so much? Because he got drunk and lost $4,000 to a nothing guy I had never even heard of. So much for that self-control, you dumbfuck. Wouldn't that experience have been incredible at my hands?
Here's a translation into cash faggot of Chifag's line about being scared: "I've been fantasizing about you taking it all at once, and nothing makes my dick harder."
Don't you remember, Chifag? I always win.