Let's be honest: I want to starve and my lady should live in luxury for it because, ultimately, as a money slave, do I want to torture and suffer for the sake of giving my money dominatrix my hard-earned money?
Financial dominance is like an addiction—I must have it!
The thought of having to put off my own material desires for another month because my money mistress was successful in stealing my money again makes me feel like I'm crawling on my hands and knees, suffering, and angry.
I must admit that I don't put up much of a fight against this oppression.
You must now acknowledge that my financial dominatrix is a young boss girl.
Smart, well-educated, and a cunning vixen who knows exactly how to tangle with me.
When she's out with friends and sees something she wants, she texts me directly.
I, the poor worm, go there the following day and buy it for her.
Once, the stylish dress was gone the following day, and my boss girl was furious with me!
For seven days, she railed at me in scathing texts, calling me a loser who couldn't even make it to the store in time to buy her a present.
To appease her, I sent her a sizable bouquet of flowers, but it was ineffective.
I felt so awful that I actually became ill and had to spend two days in bed due to stomach pains.
After only one week, my boss's girl gave up.
Since then, I've done everything in my power to grant their wishes for immediate financial dominance.
Recently, she gave cash letters some new thought.
She's changed how she uses money slavery to make me crazy.
She recently wrote to me, saying, "I need 30 euros.
Otherwise I won't have the money to pay for the taxi to meet C.
the day following tomorrow.
Send money in an envelope to me.
And stow it away!' Well, what should I do?
After all, she was my boss girl, and when she immediately sent a photo of her sexy patent leather boots, it was already over.
I therefore considered how I could send her money without risk and ultimately chose a studded mailer, which I then filled with a box containing the 30 euros.
Since he was giving cash to my boss girl, the postman shouldn't have known about it.
The cash letter pleased my blond mistress of money, and ever since then I have continued to be given orders for cash letters.
I've forgotten how much cash I've already given my boss girl and what I've spent to appease her.
When it gets close to the end of the month, the account can be so low that it's difficult for me to buy enough food at Aldi for myself.
But then I glance at my phone and notice this intelligent young boy smiling, and I realize that I am a damned money slave who is powerless to escape from it.
In addition, my most recent interaction with my young boss girl made me completely smitten with her.
Although we had never actually met, we had communicated via email and had crossed paths.
Did I mention that she is incredibly attractive and that, at the age of 21, she is a young boss girl who loves to have fun?
Although I am in my mid-30s and much too old for such a young dominatrix, I appreciate her youth and carefree attitude.
I also enjoy it when she shakes me, makes fun of me, and does so.
in every sense of the word.
The first meeting arrived at last.
It was only there for three minutes at the most, and I hardly even glanced at it.
A money lady had written a report about CashandGo, and my boss girl had read it and found it to be very exciting.
She had considered calling me to a public location so I could put cash in her boots and then leave because she wanted that as well.
The thing is, I'm a married money slave who is politically active in my community and has some standing there.
at the very least in my district.
I would be in trouble if anyone learned about my desire to work as a slave for money.
Let's face it: I want to starve and my lady should live in luxury for it, so why am I a money slave if I don't want to suffer and torture myself for my hard-earned money?
Money dominance is like an addiction: I have to feel like crawling on my hands and knees, suffering as I watch the money drain from my account, and angry as my own material desires must be put on hold once more for a month because my money mistress was successful in stealing my money once more.
I must admit that I don't really fight against this oppression.
Now you have to say that the person who controls my finances is a young boss girl.
Smart, well-educated, and a cunning vixen who knows exactly how to tangle with me.
When she is out and about with friends and sees something she wants, she texts me directly.
The following day, I, a poor worm, go there and buy it for her.
My boss girl gave me hell when the stylish dress disappeared the following day.
She texted me constantly for seven days, calling me a loser and saying that I couldn't even make it to the store in time to buy her a gift.
To appease her, I sent her a sizable bouquet of flowers, but it was ineffective.
I was so miserable that I even became ill and had to spend two days in bed.
My boss's girl didn't become calm until after a week.
Since that time, I have worked extremely hard to immediately achieve your financial dominance.
She's recently given cash letters some thought.
She now uses this new method to exploit me financially.
She recently wrote to me, saying, "I need 30 euros.
Without it, the taxi cannot cover the cost of the meeting with C.
following tomorrow.
Send money in an envelope to me.
And stabilize it nicely! "Well, what should I do?
She was my boss girl, and when she sent a picture of her hot paint boots shortly after, it was about me anyway," I thought.
So I pondered how I could send her money and ultimately chose to make a no-peel shipping bag that I placed a box containing the 30 euros in.
Because he was giving my boss girl cash, the postman shouldn't have known.
Following the cash letter, there have always been orders for cash letters because my blonde money mistress was pleased.
I no longer have a clear picture of how much money I have already sent my boss girl and what I have purchased for her so that I can make her happy.
When the month is over, the account can be so low that it's difficult for me to buy enough food for myself, even at Aldi.
However, as soon as I see this youthful smile on my cell phone and realize that I am a cursed slave to money who refuses to free herself from it, I realize that I would do anything for my money dominatrix.
In addition, the most recent interaction I had with my young bossgirl made me completely susceptible to her.
Although we had never actually met, we had chatted online a few times and had even had the chance to meet in person.
Is she a young, fun-loving boss girl at 21 years old, as I already stated, and that she looks incredibly good?
Although I am in my mid-thirties and far too old for such a young dominatrix, I enjoy her freshness and carefreeness.
And I enjoy it when she allows me to move around, make fun of me, and laugh at myself.
absolute sense of the word.
The first meeting took place only recently.
So what does meeting actually mean.
The maximum amount of time I spent looking at them was three minutes.
A money mistress had written a report on Cash & Go, which, according to my boss girl, she found to be very exciting.
She had considered commanding me to a public location, where I would be allowed to place her money in my boots before being allowed to leave once more.
Currently, I am a married money slave who also lives in a city with a small view and is politically active.
Certainly in my district.
Therefore, I would be freed if someone were to be affected by my desire to conduct myself as a slave to money.
Of course, my boss girl is aware of that.
Because of this, I found her suggestion to be a little irritating, but I was also growing more and more excited about thinking.
Meeting her in person and humiliating myself in front of her gave me a major kick in the pants.
She demanded 200 euros, or $100 for each boot, and told me not to come up with a knick-knack amount.
Uff.
I had to swallow, but in the end, I gave in.
When and where would she abruptly text me on her phone, which I had of course bought for her.
The mobile phone card also went to my account, and I was occasionally horrified to learn how much money she had spent on calls and text messages.
It was a Friday night, close to midnight.
m.
I received the crucial text that said, "Your Cash&Go meeting will be in the women's toilet, second door from the left in 30 minutes," and she then gave me the name of the bar where she was. My wife was already in bed, and I promised I'd come right away. How am I supposed to go in the ladies room, and anyway, how should I be able to leave now?
However, my boss girl had made it clear to me several times that she didn't really care.
She wouldn't have to worry about how I handled my wife's issues.
She would boast that I was her personal banker and that I could also tell my wife that I always made things happen by this point or later.
There was no doubt in my mind that I would travel to the Cash&Go location where my financial dominatrix met.
Hoping that my wife was already asleep and wouldn't even realize that I was leaving the house, I quickly put on my coat and walked out the door in silence.
I then hurried through half the city because I realized the club was almost at the other end, which made me happy about the slim possibility of unintentionally being discovered.
I hurriedly retrieved some cash from the ATM, felt the recognizable tugging in my balls, heard my heart thumping, and continued.
When I got to the meeting place, I still had five minutes, so I went inside the bar.
People danced and hung out at the bar or in the lounge chairs decorated in the style of the 1970s, most of whom were young and stylishly dressed.
I unzipped my coat and started to look for the bathroom.
When I saw two girls inside talking and laughing in the mirror, I carefully opened the ladies room door but immediately closed it again.
Damn.
I took a look at the time once more.
There are 3 minutes remaining.
I uneasy cast a glance around.
I hurriedly entered the restroom as the two girls emerged from there.
No one can see the second door on the left.
She stood with one leg raised on the edge of the toilet and her long, shiny patent knees directly in front of me after I gave it a light push.
She gave a fleeting smile from above as she pointed to the boot shaft and said:.
Or do I have to make you kneel over here, my cashier?
I quickly shook my head, drew a bill from my purse, rolled it up, and slid it up the shaft.
When I caught a glimpse of her, she was pointing down while switching legs.
As the second glow rolled into her boot, my heart was racing.
Next, she uttered:.
Without second thought or hesitation, I knelt down and gave the boot's toe a quick kiss.
My blood was pumping frantically through my entire body, and my heart was racing like crazy.
"Now get out!" she exclaimed, kicking me lightly with her boot as she pushed me out the door.
She then locked it behind me.
I seized the opportunity to escape when a woman entered, and as she yelled angrily, I dashed through the crowd and out onto the street.
Do I really just do that?
Did I really just kiss my boss girl's boots?
Did I really just give away 200 euros at a Cash&Go? In a women's restroom? What a craze!
Had she ever touched me before? Because now I was totally addicted to my boss girl!
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