When a slave like Empty becomes enamored, it's difficult to walk away. A day after losing $2,000 to me, he was still completely consumed, already thinking about the next thing he could take off my Amazon wish list.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," Empty worried.
The answer is nothing, as I detailed in another post. "You're a submissive fag," I observed. "That's who you are."
"I thought it was a hot idea, to serve an Alpha with my cash. It was supposed to just be a little game, some fun. But I seriously can't stop thinking about how I can serve you."
Empty was totally hooked, his feeble self-control overwhelmed. Instead of resisting, all he could think about was pleasing me more. The cash slave was asking all kinds of questions; he was obsessed with learning everything he could about me.
"I've never known anyone like you before," Empty wrote, referring to the natural power and charisma he felt every time we interacted.
Many of my imitators are struggling to broadcast an image they believe slaves will find appealing. They reap the meager rewards of that approach. The best masters aren't striving to portray anything; they merely present themselves. Seasoned cash fags can quickly detect the difference.
"That's why I like you so much," Empty praised. "You don't pretend to be Alpha to get cash. You are just your Alpha self."
In two weeks Empty had sent me more than $5,000 in cash and gifts. Based on what he'd revealed about his finances, I couldn't continue exhausting his resources at that pace. I permitted the faggot some less taxing weeks, extracting just a few hundred dollars from his accounts.
"I love how easy it is," I wrote after one of those small drains.
"I don't know how to say no to you," Empty admitted. "How do I say no?"
"You never have," I observed. The cash fag had wavered a few times but ultimately had always obeyed my commands.
"I know, I don't know how. How can I say no?"
"You don't want to say no," I assured him. "You want to give me whatever I ask for."
I flew to Florida for Thanksgiving soon after that conversation (yes, that's how far behind I am in relating this story, but at least you're finally getting to read it). Going home is always frustrating because it severely limits my activities. Getting on cam is difficult; using the mic is basically impossible. I can't easily do a lot of the things I would ordinarily do to weaken a fag.
When Empty messaged me during the Thanksgiving week, I'd already been forced to turn away half a dozen slaves. After days surrounded by family without any opportunity for release, I was horny as fuck. If you've been at my hands when I'm that worked up, you know how dangerous it can be. Fortunately, on this particular night, I was finally up late and alone, the door locked so that I couldn't possibly be disturbed.
"Go send me $250," I ordered.
"What? Really?" Empty asked nervously.
I assured him that I was serious but he still questioned the amount. "I didn't think I sent that much before," he claimed, not remembering the $500 increments that had exceeded my current demand. "Fuck, I don't know what I was thinking."
Of course, I knew exactly what Empty was thinking: "That nothing is better than making me happy."
No longer accustomed to massive cash rapes after weeks of reprieve, Empty spent a few minutes protesting the amount. You already know it was a vain struggle. After five minutes, the cash fag finally dispatched the money.
With that reminder of his place, Empty was quickly apologizing for questioning my instructions and expressing regret that he hadn't obeyed sooner.
"I should demand another $250 just because you were so fucking insolent about it," I suggested.
"I'm sorry, Sir."
"Show me how sorry you are," I commanded.
Another $250. After that desperately needed practice, Empty was remembering how incredible it felt to do what I wanted. Knowing I could push even harder, I called him on Skype.
"You look hot," the slave complimented gleefully. He'd been deprived of the pleasure of my image for weeks.
As Empty stared at my face, surely tugging at his little dick, we went over the faggot's finances. He claimed his bank balance was down to $2,000 after he'd spent some money on himself. I told the cash fag to send $250 more, and this time he instantly complied.
I was looking at porn before Empty approached, but after taking $750 my big dick was rock hard. I panned down to show cash slave, knowing how easily the image would get him gushing even more.
"Fuck, Sir," Empty typed. "I love that it gets you so hard. You're going to rape my whole account, aren't you?"
Fuck yeah. The faggot had no desire to stop.
"It's all yours," he promised.
"Show me, faggot," I ordered.
Empty hit $1,000 for the night. He couldn't possibly say no. "Staring at your God dick, how could I even think no?"
Cash slaves often forget their places, pretending they can shed their intense cravings to submit to real men. In just a few minutes, though, a slave can be reminded of who he is and returned to his natural state, transfixed by alpha power.
Empty was thanking me for reminding him who he was, apologizing again for not immediately obeying when our conversation started. He sent me $250 more.
As I was urging the faggot to save some cash for my return home, he surprised me. "I have to confess, that's just my transactions account."
Yeah, Empty had been misleading me all month about how much cash he actually had. There was more money stashed away in at least two other bank accounts.
"Deceitful fucker," I complained, pissed thinking about all the times Empty had claimed to be "running low."
Apologizing profusely, the cash fag didn't want to reveal his savings balance. He was still imagining that he could protect himself.
"I can just take a stab at it then. You can go dump $500 into my account."
"Yes, Sir," Empty acknowledged, bringing his total to $1,750 after he complied.
With the faggot's transaction account nearly exhausted and the Thanksgiving meal mere hours away, I was ready to pass out. As I finished writing a few Tumblr posts, Empty offered another confession: "I can't resist, Sir. I've got $10,000 in my internet savings account."
I grinned knowing how much was available to pillage. December was going to be another great month, an opportunity to extract reparations for Empty's wrong. I'll pick up again there, with many thousands of dollars still left to recount.