On the internet, you are a man who thrives on connections with other women, but it never, ever works out with me. You know that you'll never really be close to me. So, I imagine this is how it is for you. Every day, you go home to your place, and you get ready to watch your favorite porn videos by me, always on that same little couch or computer desk, and I'm completely absorbed in myself. You've tried so hard to connect with me. You send money. You hound me with comments on my Twitter. You send more money. I'm unmoved because you are doing exactly what I expect you to do. What your job is: to pay me because you are a man. It is my right as a woman to make you pay me and ignore you because you will not stop jerking anyway. I think you should send more money. Then we'll see how much it costs to get a hello from me. And if you were to tell your friends about your addiction to findom and paying me, they wouldn't understand you. They'll tell you to stop chasing waterfalls and find someone in real life who will acknowledge your existence, but you're stubborn, and I have a hold on you.