This faggot first added me more than a year ago, initially requesting to send $100. After half an hour he upped his offering to $200, and I definitely would have taken that had I not been sleeping. Evidently Aussie ATM was insanely horny that first time, because when we finally did catch up he balked at starting with $100.
Two months later, the cash slave messaged me again: “Faggot has been needing to get cash raped all weekend,” Aussie ATM announced.
This time I suggested $50, the cash fag balking at that too.
“You tell me, faggot,” I demanded.
“Maybe $30, Sir.”
Aussie ATM reported that he was logged in but I didn’t see any payments.
“You’re not doing this right, faggot,” I complained.
“Sorry, Sir. It’s reading a blog, trying to work itself up to hit send.”
Really? I quickly put the cash slave in his place: “You’re talking to me right now. That should be plenty.”
Finally, after all that annoying waffling, Aussie ATM was ready to put the money where it belonged.
“Fuck, sent, Sir!”
The faggot was so turned on he shot his load as I pressed for more cash. I certainly wasn’t impressed, but at least I knew he was capable of sending something. That’s a beginning.
A month later, Aussie ATM dispatched $50 more, cumming almost immediately once again.
“It will come back for more in the future, Sir,” the cash fag assured me. “Hopefully it can get past the first payment and see you on cam.”
A day later, he was back wanting to be a good faggot ATM.
“It’s so hard to fight the urge to be used like this,” Aussie ATM wrote.
“Don’t fight it,” I encouraged.
“Right now it craves nothing more than clicking send and watching its cash drain into Sir’s account. But it knows it will regret it later.”
The cash fag revealed that he always regretted his larger rapes, even though he would get horny rereading them later. Typical faggot.
“It shoots its load sending $50. I can’t imagine it getting raped harder.”
Aussie ATM sent $50 after I said that, and sure enough he rapidly tried to excuse himself from being used any harder.
“It’s always fighting me,” I complained. “Stupid faggot.”
“Sorry, Sir.”
“It can fight. But I’ll win in the end,” I predicted. “I always do.”
“You’re probably right, Sir,” the ATM wrote.
“I am right.”
“Your blog is a testament to that,” Aussie ATM agreed.
“All those wills knocked down. All that cash drained away.”
In the ten months since that last withdrawal, Aussie ATM has messaged me a dozen times, never making another payment. Familiar with his resistant nature, I would try to engage him anyway, though we never exchanged more than a few words.
Until this week. The cash fag messaged me saying that he wanted to get in the mood.
“Haha. You must not be horny then, faggot.”
“It is, Sir,” Aussie ATM claimed.
“And it doesn’t want to be a good ATM for me? That’s all it’s good for.”
“You’re right, Sir,” the faggot agreed, obviously becoming more aroused.
“I’m always right,” I confirmed. “It works so it can give me what I deserve.”
“It needs to be an ATM for a superior straight alpha.”
Five minutes later, Aussie ATM finally fulfilled that need again, sending $50.
“It feels good to be useful,” the faggot wrote. “Spitting out hard-earned cash into more deserving hands.”
“I deserve more though, don’t I, faggot?” Based on past precedent, I expected him to cum right there and flee. Not this time, though.
“Always, Sir,” he agreed.
“I don’t want it to agree. I want it to demonstrate. Good ATMs transfer their hard-earned money to real men.”
Aussie ATM sent a second $50 payment. “Demonstrated, Sir.”
Sensing that I could press harder, I instructed the cash fag to demonstrate again. He revealed that he was drinking piss he’d purchased from a local straight guy as he dispensed cash; no wonder Aussie ATM was so horny tonight.
I needed to piss anyway, so I proposed that the cash fag could watch me do it if he sent another $50. "Now or never, faggot,” I urged after waiting a few minutes. “I’m ready to go.”
That was an offer the cash fag couldn’t turn down. Aussie ATM asked if I would take the next $50 myself, and I graciously agreed. He sent his Teamviewer credentials and I claimed my money.
I called the ATM on Skype for the very first time, greeting him with my face before moving to the bathroom and unleashing a stream of piss. I’m sure Aussie ATM was gulping down more from his bottle at that moment wishing that it was mine.
I took $50 increments for fifteen minutes after I started the call, adding another $200 to my take. I tried for another but the cash fag’s bank declined the transaction. Aussie ATM checked his balance, finding that he had enough left for me to take another $20. That’s exactly what I did. With $370 dispensed into my hands, the faggot had around $3 left. Fuck yeah.
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In the course of our conversation afterward I understood why Aussie ATM has been so sparse: he serves a local straight guy, the source of that fresh bottle of piss he had in hand. He’d drained more than $1,000 in total for the week, the local guy claiming most of it. Maybe I can make an inroad.
If you started feeling sorry for Aussie ATM, don’t bother. The ATM volunteered another useful piece of information: I’d only emptied his checking account. He has another $20,000 piled away in savings, plus some unspecified investments. We toyed with the idea of tapping into that last night while the faggot was still horny, but his cautious nature prevailed.
For now, anyway.