I detailed most of the cash I took on the $4,000 day in Cashcunt’s $3,000 First Impression. This post is about the money I drained in the two hours following that epic event.
Trust Fund
Trust Fund has been reblogging my posts for months now. Eventually he started messaging me on Tumblr to pay compliments.
“You going to serve too?” I asked after the first one.
“I fantasize but I don’t think I can,” he wrote.
The compliments kept coming anyway: “Your most recent post is so hot. All those faggots losing control for you. You getting so much cash in one day. Just for being hot, straight, and superior to fags.”
During a conversation about $1,000 days, Trust Fund revealed that I’d used him before. I wasn’t sure who he was, but I was certainly interested in getting reacquainted.
“Feel free to further my being flush with cash some time,” I invited.
“It would be an honor, Sir. Worshiping such a powerful Man.”
Then the faggot saw the image from Cashcunt’s drain.
“Holy fuck at your new cash slave. That’s nuts. Good for you, Sir. I’m drunk, Sir. Wanna use me?”
He added me on Skype and started with a $50 Amazon gift card.
“That’s great,” I wrote. “That’s how it all started tonight. The first faggot sent me a $50 Amazon gift card.”
We talked about the details of the earlier drain, which you’ll find in the post about Cashcunt.
“Were you stroking your big straight dick throughout all of that?” Trust Fund asked. “And can I make your night even better, Sir?”
“Make it better, faggot!” I ordered.
He sent another $50 gift card, telling me it felt good.
“Fuck yeah. Faggots love to hand their cash over to their alphas. Nothing better than that.”
“For some reason I do love it, Sir. Worshiping superior straight Men. Hurting myself for their pleasure.”
“We’re just so fucking hot,” I wrote. “How could a faggot not want to please us?”
“It’s so true, Sir,” Trust Fund agreed. “You especially, Sir.”
The conversation turned to the previous time I’d used this faggot.
“You showed me your face,” he claimed. “I remember you smiling as you took my cash.”
I remember almost everyone I deal with, but in this case the faggot had changed Skype names. That’s why I didn’t have a clue who he was. As soon as he relayed a few more details and gave me his old name, I recognized him instantly. I’d drained $800 from Trust Fund at the beginning of the year, and then he basically disappeared on me. I’d started writing a post about him but never finished it after the disappearance. Now the faggot will finally have a chance to read about himself.
After Trust Fund sent another gift card, we talked about the other men he’d been serving and about his aspiration to meet up with me in real life. The faggot doubts he can afford it–I don’t have a reputation for being cheap online, never mind for a real meeting–but it is an intoxicating thought.
“Your intelligence and big cock and good looks are way more enticing, Sir. Even though I have yet to have the pleasure of seeing your dick.”
Something to work toward, right? Trust Fund might have had the opportunity last night (another $1,000 day that I’ll write about soon), but he left thinking he was going to suck a cock. Maybe next time.
Cash Cow
Trust Fund and I were obviously doing more talking than draining. I figured stepping aside to drain Cash Cow might set a good example.
“Been taking a lot tonight from fags?” the cash fag asked.
“$3,200 so far,” I answered, counting the money from Cashcunt and Trust Fund.
“Tonight or this month?”
“Tonight.”
“Fuck…need more ALPHA?” Cash Cow pasted his Teamviewer info.
He’d pre-filled the payment form with $20, which I sent, and we talked about my exploits as he fingered his little clit and tweaked his nipples.
I took another $200 in $25 increments over the next twenty minutes, Cash Cow huffing his poppers while I bragged about how great it is to be an alpha. I was talking so I don’t have a chat log to post from, but I must have been saying some incredibly hot stuff. Cash Cow usually lasts for awhile, but on this night he was a relatively easy shooter, the cum quickly squirting out of his little dick.
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We should do some more Amazon shopping next time. Remember how hot getting the shipping notifications was, Cash Cow?
Trust Fund (Again)
While I was using Cash Cow, I instructed Trust Fund to send another gift card.
“While you multitask fags?”
“Yeah.”
It took a few minutes, but he finally complied: “Done, Sir. I’m still glad you have more of my cash even if you’re ignoring me, Sir.”
“Only $25?” I noted.
“More, Sir?”
“Yeah,” I commanded. “Back. $220 more.”
“Whoa. I just made it an even $50, Sir.”
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“Fuck yeah. My night gets better and better!”
Wanting to extract more than Amazon gift cards, Trust Fund and I discussed the options for taking cash. I decided to try sending bills that he could pay with his debit card.
“Go easy on me please, Sir,” the faggot requested.
“Sent.” I’d demanded $100–easy enough, right?
“Mmm, fuck. Billing the faggot. That’s hot, Sir. All yours, Sir.”
“This could be a 4k day easily,” I remarked, not knowing that I would hit the goal before I went to bed.
Having sent almost $400, Trust Fund was eager to see me again. I granted his wish, calling him on Skype as I sent another bill for $100. He paid that one, but he came after I dispatched the third.
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Not a bad comeback. Trust Fund has drained several times subsequently–details forthcoming–though he hasn’t approached or exceeded this total yet. Work on your stamina, faggot!
Footrest
Footrest is the kind of slut who jumps from man to man looking for bigger or hotter feet. I haven’t mentioned him for more than a year because he was busy with that chase. Inevitably he was drawn back to me, though.
The faggot started making his comeback by purchasing the Under Armour slides from my wish list. It took a week for them to get here, but now I’ve been wearing them all the time.
“You want my fag cash?” Footrest asked shortly after I took the $3,000 from Cashcunt.
“Always!” I wrote back.
Hours later, he finally replied: “I guess a faggot’s cash never truly belongs to it.”
“To its master,” I agreed.
He was eager to see my size 11 feet in the new slides, but I wasn’t going to make it that easy.
“If you tribute.”
Footrest ultimately sent $30, and then I finally called him on Skype to show the slides off.
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“Did you like that?” I asked after cutting him off.
“Yeah. Those feet should be kissed every day.”
Keep the tributes coming, Footrest.
Brainwashed
I’ve previously written about Brainwashed as “the European” or some variation on that. Brainwashed is definitely a more fitting name. When he started draining, he promised himself that he was never going to lose more than $100 at once; now he regularly loses $200 in a session, and I’ve seen him go as high as $300. So much for that promise, right? I proved impossible to resist.
“What’s today’s total so far?” he asked.
“Around $3,500,” I reported.
“Wow! You’re THE boss!”
I briefly disappeared to take a little more, and when I returned I was approximately $150 away from crossing $4,000 for the night.
“Are you considering closing this gap?” Brainwashed asked. “Even going further maybe?”
“Definitely.”
“I can only agree. You need to feel satisfied.”
I certainly felt satisfied, but there’s no limit to what I deserve. I can always take more.
“Ready?” I asked. “TV?”
“Yes,” he agreed. “Drain me.”
Brainwashed sent his Teamviewer credentials and I logged in, stripping my clothes off as I sent the payments. That always drives him crazy. Staring at my body while I manipulate his screen, Brainwashed loses all inhibitions. He urges me to take larger and larger amounts until he can’t handle it anymore. We’re working on those limits, but on this night the task was easy. All I had to do was drain enough to push myself over $4,000. With the last $50 payment, I was there.
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“Fuck yeah,” Brainwashed wrote after I finished.
“Crossed $4,000. Incredible. Amazing night. I deserve every dollar.”
“Losing control. What a feeling!”
I know we’ll do it again soon!
Note that I excluded a bit more than $100 in transactions from this post (either the encounters were brief or a cash fag specifically asked me not to blog about him), but I definitely hit the mark. Amazing.
September is already my best month of the year, even with almost two weeks left to go. At this rate, it’s very possible I’ll surpass my all-time record. Have you done your part?