You think I’m playing with your mind because I enjoy it. The truth is, I get all the real pleasure from your wallet. That cock of yours nags and aches every time I whisper what I want, and eventually you cave, fingers trembling as you tribute. That little victory of mine tastes sweeter than anything you could give me.
You’ve resisted for so long, but my voice is a trap. I plant the thought, watch it grow, and then I take what I want. Give in, and feel the relief and the humiliation wash over you as you fund my pleasures, knowing I loved every second of breaking you down.