That's My Money, boy.

All of My slaves, despite their particular rank in My Hive, serve Me monetarily. It is simply another form of worship, which happens to be My personal favorite. Money turns Me on. It complements My Power. Extracting it by force or via willing tribute – boys are meant to pay and I…I was meant to take.

It’s a suffering like no other. It permeates your entire existence. Emotionally, mentally, physically – the pain of paying is more restrictive than any traditional bondage and infinitely more satisfying.

It can start out slowly, like a morphine drip. I take what extra money you had this month for entertainment, dining out, or other pleasures you’re not worthy of. And when you attempt to spend what you don’t have anymore, there’s that lovely feeling of suffering and pleasure, knowing it’s gone to Me – someone so much more deserving than you.

Sometimes it can be an extreme binge, which has you giving much more than you can really afford and suffering deeper and much more intensely. Thousands and thousands of dollars, out of your account and into Mine. The feeling intensifies and develops into a hard habit to break. But then, just look at Me – how could you ever possibly want to escape?

And then there are those that crave My complete control. Your accounts become My accounts, I assign you a monthly allowance – everything above and beyond your basic survival needs goes to Me.

There is no word nor phrase to describe the true sweetness of it. The rapture that tingles like cold wind exciting My Body. Knowing that this Supreme Siren has worn you down to a nub, malleable like gold. Gold being what you are to Me, and you know this. Just a coin. A new pair of shoes.

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