Tue night · don’t delete this one
Wallet Draining Starts With Yes
Wallet draining · Findom · Pay Pig · Tribute · Dominant · Dirty Mommy · Confession · Cock Control · Tease & Denial Phone Sex · Mommy Phone Sex · No Limits
he said I sounded expensive
I said send it then talk
he sent it
I still didn’t let him finish
He called late. That voice they get when they already opened the banking app and they’re still acting like they might change their mind. I let him go on for a minute. He told me I sounded expensive. I almost laughed. That’s not a compliment, baby. That’s you telling on yourself.
I didn’t start dirty. I asked him what he thought he was paying for. He stumbled. They always stumble. Mommy Phone Sex, he said, like that was the whole menu. I told him we could do that. After. First he was going to send Tribute like he meant it. That’s how Wallet draining starts with me. Not a speech. A yes, then the money moves, then I decide if he’s still interesting.
He tried to joke about a “small one just to start.” I told him that’s cute. Makes me want to hang up. Findom isn’t a sample tray. Pay Pig is what he called himself when he got nervous, like the nickname would make the number smaller. It didn’t. I gave him the link and I sat there quiet on purpose. Quiet works better than yelling. Dominant doesn’t have to be loud. It just doesn’t move.
While it processed I wouldn’t let him touch himself. Cock Control, plain as that. Hand on his thigh. Phone where I could hear the room. He kept shifting like that would count. I told him if I heard fabric he was starting over. Tease & Denial Phone Sex is just me making him wait and him hating that it works. He stayed on the line anyway. They stay. That’s the part I think about later when I’m doing my nails and the polish is still wet and I’m half smiling at nothing.
He asked what the money was for. Fine. Nails. Dark red, the mean one. Lunch I didn’t feel like cooking. A little toward something on my list I haven’t bought yet because I like watching them help. Wallet draining isn’t me reaching into his pocket in a parking lot. He opened the app. He hit send. He said thank you like I’d done him a favor, which I had, just not the favor he thought.
After it cleared I let him put his hand back. Slow. I counted. He wanted to race to the end because he paid, like that bought the orgasm. No. That bought me staying on the phone. The ending is mine. I made him tell me what he was looking at. Not porn. Me. My mouth. My foot on the table. I didn’t send a picture. His head did all of it. Cheaper for him. Ruder of me. I’m ok with that.
Confession came out messy. The hidden tab. The wife down the hall. The statement he prays she never opens. I didn’t lecture him. I’m not the morality police. Dirty Mommy isn’t me ruining his actual life for sport. I asked if she knows the sound he makes when I say stop. He said no. I said keep it that way. No Limits on the call. Limits in his hallway. He can be filthy with me. He can also not be stupid at home.
When I let him come it wasn’t a big movie moment. I just said now, quiet. He broke anyway. Thanked me like he’d been holding a door shut. I didn’t hang up. Guys who click off the second they finish don’t get the second half. Second half is the next number. Second half is me telling him Wallet draining isn’t a one-time stunt he can brag about in his own head. He asked if he could call again this week. I said he can ask. Asking isn’t yes.
I’m writing this so the next one of you doesn’t waste the first three minutes trying to be charming. Call. Say what you want. I tell you what it costs. You send it. Then we play. Skip the middle and I’ll hear it and I’ll get off nicer than you deserve. I’m not spending a Dominant woman’s night listening to a maybe.
If the thing you like is that sick little drop in your stomach when the money leaves, say that. If you want me to narrate every dollar, say that. If you want me bored until the notification hits, I can do that too. What I won’t do is pretend Wallet draining is the joke at the end. It’s the whole call. Everything else hangs off it.
Nails are red again. List is still open. Last night’s boy already asked if he can throw in for lunch today. I haven’t answered him. I like him sitting there on read. You’d like it too if you stopped pretending you wouldn’t. Call if you want your name under his. Don’t write me a paragraph about how different you are. I’ve heard different. I want the one who says yes and then the balance actually moves.
still haven’t told him he can come today
Be good for me… or don’t — I enjoy the punishment just as much. You’ll behave for me eventually. They always do.
— Kay 💋