Look at this.
All this money—his money—now mine. Not because I asked. Because he needs me to take it. Because deep down, he knows it’s all he’s good for.
He called himself Wormi, like I wouldn’t already know what he is. I have other nicknames for him like SFB (shit for brains), but Wormi is good. A crawling, pathetic thing. A financial failure begging to be drained. A submissive who thinks anonymity can hide his shame. But he came back. He always comes back. Because I own him.
Every dollar he sends is a confession.
A silent scream: Please, use me again.
And I do. Every time.
This isn’t some ex-sub trying to reclaim dignity. There is no dignity left. There’s only obedience. I ruined him, and he thanked me for it.
He is still mine.
Still desperate. Still aching to be humiliated, exposed, and financially hollowed out.
And now, I show you what that looks like.
To the rest of you watching:
You’ll never be more than what he is until you give more than he did.
If this makes you flinch—you’re not ready.
If it makes you hard—you’re next.