From this moment forward, you're nothing but a fucking wallet to me, do you understand that? Mine to be degraded and objectified however I please. You've accepted that the only way you can contribute anything of value to my life is by sending me money, so we're going to make the most of that today. But don't worry! I'm not going to take all of it; I PROMISE. I am, however, going to request that you pull up your bank account, look at the balance, and do a little math for me. Then, you're going to transfer over a healthy chunk of it to this platform. I'm not going to have you send it all at once. What would be the fun in that? No... it's so much more fun to make you beg. I like toying with you in the moments after big sends, reminding you of how guilty, ashamed, and panicked you're going to feel tomorrow morning. Your new future isn't so bright, now is it? Maybe you have to start taking the bus. Maybe you're going to be eating beans and rice for the next year. Maybe you're going to have to sell your house. And you know what? I'm glad. My life should be easy. EFFORTLESS. Yours should be difficult. You've become this desperate for feeling any sensation other than reality, and I'm going to make it HURT. In fact, I'm even going to throw in a little CBT for you. Oh, and let's not forget, when I'm done with you, you'll be ruining your orgasm. I'm not letting you leave with a single shred of dignity tonight.