Take my shot glass, grab some of your favorite ‘fuck you up quicker’ liquor, and play shots with me.
I set the mood (quick and painlessly) to help that alkie go straight to your head. One, two, three and throw it back!
After every shot, I snap and you tribute. But don’t worry Mr. Tightwad. I start small, I feel you out, and I only let you cum once I get my way.
You need me.
I always leave you wanting more.
First, I’m going to fuck with your mind. I’m going to tease your little cock until you can’t take it any longer and you have no choice other than to beg me to start stroking. I take a heaping handful of my chest and you sit there and stare. Enduring my tease without stroking your useless cock. You stare and you worship what you will never have. I want your dick crying out to you to stroke. But you aren’t allowed to. You don’t deserve to take away any pleasure from my tease.
Do you honestly think you can afford me? Not only do I demand all your cash but I expect your pride and humility. I get off on humiliating and emasculating you. You are nothing more than a jester, born to amuse me. Born to serve and obey me. An entertaining cash cow. So go on, try to afford me. I want you to.
