Way back in September 2016, some fag bought a pair of Under Armour shorts from my Amazon wish list. Until May, that was our only contact–I didn’t have a clue who the guy was. One-off tributes aren’t unusual, of course, and I’ve certainly received my share of them from subs who have never breathed a word to me. When someone writes “I’ve been reading your blog and just couldn’t hold back anymore” in a gift note, though, they tend to approach rather than disappear.
When Pumper finally added me on Skype, he identified himself as the buyer of the shorts “a long time ago.”
“When I read your working out post,” the fag added, “I started caving in and now I’m ready to start tributing.”
The inescapable reality of Pumper’s place had finally set in. The fact that he’d evaded it for almost a year was instantly rendered meaningless.
“I bet you make those shorts bulge,” the bitch mused about his first purchase. “Does your bank account bulge too?”
“It must if I can basically disappear for five months.”
“Damn, that’s pretty girthy.”
“I could go a lot longer than that if I wanted,” I assured him. “Sure did miss all the attention, all the Amazon stuff, all the cash, though…”
“Fuck. Now you’re a little bigger,” Pumper wrote, having sent his first cash tribute.
It begins.
“What’s your goal?” he asked about my workout plan.
“Have abs again.”
“I want to make you cum,” the fag said about his own goal.
“Not sure you’ll make it there going slow,” I hinted.
He quickly responded to that cue: “Protein should arrive tomorrow.”
A few minutes later, Pumper sent another $40 in cash, crossing over $100 for the session.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Making you richer? Yeah,” he admitted.
“Haha. I’ll blow all that at the grocery store. Still plenty of time to make me richer though.”
“Fuck, you’ve got me so hard. So cocky.”
“Supreme is back and taking what he deserves,” I declared.
“Do you want more?”
“I always want more.”
Pumper sent another $20, asking if he could see me smile. The fag quickly took the hint again and this time sent $100. With that in my pocket, I started the Skype call that was almost a whole year in the making.
“You’re handsome!” he blurted immediately. “This is dangerous. Seeing how handsome you are.”
Of course I am. And it’s impossible to unring the bell.
“Damn, I could fall for you real fast.”
“Already working on it?” I asked.
“Big time.”
“Reading is one thing. Seeing is another. Glad I could have you padding my already fat bank balance.”
“I think you actually deserve more,” Pumper announced.
“I can definitely agree with that. Just look at me…”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Fuck indeed. Now I had $280 in cash. The fag toyed with sending another tribute but decided he needed to “cool down” instead. Fair enough.
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“I quickly become expensive and very difficult to resist,” I pronounced after ending the call.
“Yeah, the hole in my wallet just kept expanding. So girthy. Lemme know how your workout plan goes. I get paid on Friday (every other).”
Yesterday, Pumper appeared again.
“Hey,” he greeted. “I think I’ve got an interesting proposition for you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I’ve been draining too much lately,” the fag confessed. “I need someone to help me. The other doms just squeeze as hard as they can. I don’t want to stop, but I need to stay afloat. They also aren’t as clever you, so it gets boring when they just demand more cash.”
The “Fuck you, pay me!” thing gets old fast, doesn’t it? We discussed a couple of the guys who had been draining him.
“I think you are more interested for long term relationships. These guys want me to miss my rent payments.”
Yeah, I’m definitely not that kind of guy. The Brit (who I’ll rename someday) saw it firsthand last month when he’d exhausted his debit account and started talking about dipping in to his rent money to satisfy his urges. I told him that was moronic and forced him to wait until he gets paid.
“How am I supposed to help?” I asked the fag.
“If I drain exclusively to you, I think we both end up satisfied, although you’d be the only one really profiting. Haha.”
“Someone’s going to profit no matter what,” I reminded him. “Sounds like the only issue is degree…”
Pumper shared the details about his take home pay and budget, making clear what he can realistically afford in a month. Discipline is much easier for me than it is for the typical cash slave, though. I asked the fag if he would actually be able to remain exclusive and resist draining to others.
“I think I’ve read about you doing things like this before. How did you do it then?”
“Some guys are just over bullshit and find it pretty easy to stay away from,” I explained. “In other cases, I had stuff like bank/credit card logins that I could check up on. Obviously that’s a bit advanced.”
(Note that the anonymous Tumblr question about passwords today was totally coincidental. For all I know Pumper is the one who asked it.)
“That would sound useful for me…keeping everything secret means there’s peer pressure to do something stupid. If you check my accounts then I wouldn’t drain to other guys.”
“Not without pissing me off,” I pointed out. “It makes me want restitution.”
“Seeing you big and angry would be kinda fun,” the fag quipped. “I’m not ready to give you logins yet though. Is there some other way we can, uh…consummate this?”
Obviously I wasn’t expecting Pumper to hand over his account passwords in our second session, but I certainly had another idea about solidifying the arrangement.
“Good tribute is a great way to start. No one’s given me the pleasure of using the $200 on my form yet.”
“Oh fuck yeah.”
I pasted the link again. “Get to it then.”
Pumper sent the cash, $200 in a single transaction. Fucking beautiful.
“Fuck, pumping you up feels so good,” the fag gushed. “I haven’t felt this much gratitude in a long time.”
“Fuck yeah. $200 flowing into my account just like that.”
“You get bigger and I get smaller.”
“That’s what you’re good for,” I affirmed. “Handing power over to me. Making me greater.”
“Oh fuck yes! Holy shit my legs feel weak.”
“You’re going to be my fag now. Belong to me.”
“Thank you! Yes Sir, Master!” he blabbered. “This has been the best drain I’ve ever had. I can’t wait to see how much bigger you’ll get off me.”
“Damn, don’t tell me it’s that easy. This is really nothing at all…”
“It’s just so hard to resist. The more I give in the bigger the dom gets and I just want to pump him up even more.”
“Pump me up then, bitch,” I ordered.
“I want to so bad, but I’ve definitely set a personal record this month now. I’ll pump you up a little more anyway.”
He sent $20 more, a pittance, yeah, but a gesture nonetheless–one that undoubtedly sent another surge through his dick. My goal was to take more cash than I had in our first session, and I’d achieved that.
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I called Pumper as a reward, my image instantly overtaking him once again.
“Oh fuck, I forgot how handsome you are.”
“It’s dangerous when you’re a weak bitch.”
“I’m so weak,” the fag confirmed. “You drained all the power from me.”
Pumper busted his load while I was still on cam, assuredly one of the greatest possible pleasures for a cash slave.
“You’re mine now,” I wrote before closing the call.
“Looking forward to it,” he claimed
Now we’ll see if Pumper can actually manage to live up to that. It’s easy to say–I hear it from cash slaves all the time–but much harder to do. Either way, I know I’ll be draining him again. The thrill of swelling my bank account is just too irresistible.