Oh, look at you, my latest pathetic plaything. You're nothing but a spineless, drooling pay piggy, so easily ensnared in my web of control. It's almost laughable how you handed over your life to me – bank details, social media, the works. Did your little head down there make all the decisions for you? How utterly moronic and deliciously convenient for me. You've laid your entire existence bare before me, ripe for my cruel ..... Now, I own you. Every dirty little secret, every shred of your former life, it's all mine to play with. You're going to dance to my tune, puppet. Your bank accounts? I'll drain them dry. Your credit cards? Maxed out until they're just useless plastic. I hold the power to destroy your laughable little life with a single click. And believe me, I revel in that power. Every cent you have, every asset you own, will be stripped away, leaving you nothing but a broken, bankrupt shell. And the best part? You'll crawl back for more, begging to serve me, your ruthless Findom Goddess.