Lisa Drains Her Pathetic Bitch Boy Dry

The phone rang and Lisa answered with her signature silky, venomous purr. “Speak, worm.”

On the other end, a trembling voice: “G-Goddess Lisa… I… I want to be your slave. Please. I’ll do anything.”

She laughed—cold, sharp, dripping with contempt. “Anything? Oh honey, you have no idea what ‘anything’ means to a real woman like me. First, tell me why a sniveling little bitch boy like you even deserves to breathe my air.”

He stammered, “I… I’m worthless. I have a tiny dick. I can’t satisfy anyone. I just want to serve you… send you my money…”

“Tiny dick? Say the number, loser. How many pathetic inches are we talking?”

“F-four… maybe four and a half on a good day…”

Lisa’s voice turned vicious. “Four inches? That’s not a cock, that’s a clit with delusions. No wonder you’re calling me—you know real men fuck women and you just watch from the corner like the beta cuck you are. Now open your wallet, paypig. Send $200 right now just to keep me on the line. Prove you’re not wasting my precious time.”

She heard the frantic tapping, the shaky confirmation. “Good boy. But that’s just the appetizer. Tell me what you do for a living. I want to know how much I can bleed from you before you’re broke and crying.”

He confessed—decent job, savings, a girlfriend he didn’t deserve. Lisa mocked every detail. “A girlfriend? Does she know her ‘man’ is on the phone jerking his sad little nub to a woman who wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire? Send another $300. Now. Label it ‘Goddess Lisa’s Shopping Fund.’ I need new heels to walk all over losers like you.”

Tribute after tribute poured in as she tore him apart—his appearance, his stamina (or lack thereof), his entire existence. “Stroke that shrimp dick while you send more. Edge for me. No cumming. Ever. Your orgasms belong to me now, and I say you don’t get them.”

By the end, his bank account was gutted—hundreds turned to thousands. Voice cracking, he begged, “Please, Goddess… can I cum? I’ve given you everything…”

“Cum? Oh sweetheart,” she sneered. “You don’t cum. You leak. And then you send one final tribute to thank me for ruining you. Do it. $500. Last chance before I hang up and forget you exist.”

The notification pinged. She smiled, cruel and satisfied. “Good little bitch. Now crawl back to your miserable life knowing you’ve been properly drained. Call again when you’ve recovered… if you ever do.”

Click. She hung up, already counting her spoils, ready for the next pathetic soul to offer himself up.