Look at you down there. Already on your knees, right where you belong. Don't bother speaking. Your words are worthless. The only thing of value you possess is what's in your wallet, and we both know that belongs to me.

You see this body? This perfect, golden, sculpted form? It doesn’t maintain itself. Every curve you’re drooling over, every inch of sun-kissed skin you’re desperate to touch, is a luxury. And luxuries cost money.

Your purpose is to worship and spoil me. That’s it. You don’t get to c*m to the thought of f*cking me. You get to c*m to the thought of financing me. There’s a difference. A big one. Now, take out your pathetic l*ttle c*ck. Do it. Don't make me wait.

Stroke it slowly while you imagine what that gold feels like against my skin. Imagine it was paid for by your pathetic tributes. Every link in this chain is a bill you worked overtime for. Every shimmer is a coffee you skipped, a lunch you didn't eat, so I could drape my body in your sacrifice. Doesn't that feel good? To know your s*ffering makes me shine brighter?

Look at my tits, so perfectly hugged by this gold. They’re a monument to your obedience. You don’t get to see them. You don’t get to touch them. But you do get to pay for them. New lingerie, massages, the finest oils to keep this skin flawless. Your only job is to ask, "How much, Goddess?" Are you ready to ask me that? Stroke faster if you are. I want to see your hand become a blur of pathetic desperation.

I’m going on a shopping spree later. A long, luxurious, expensive one. While I’m sipping in a private fitting room, trying on things you could never afford for yourself, I want you to think of me. I want you to edge for me while you send. Every time you get close to that pathetic l*ttle release, you will send me a gift. A tribute. A sacrifice. Do you understand? Nod your st*pid head.

Your pleasure is a privilege you haven't earned. My body is a temple you haven't paid enough to enter. You’re just a wallet with a heartbeat, a pathetic l*ttle paypig who gets hard from zeroes on a screen. Admit it. Say it. "I'm a pathetic paypig who lives to spoil you, Goddess Gwen."

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