Reaching new heights in Findom

Mistress Tass lounged in her velvet chair, phone in hand, scrolling through her latest tribute notifications. The screen lit up with another transfer: five hundred dollars from her devoted paypig. She smirked, typing a quick message: "Good boy. That covers my new heels. Now send more for my dinner tonight."

The Paypig sat at his desk, heart racing as he read her words. His cock twitched in his pants. He had already drained his account this month, but the thrill of her control pushed him further. He logged into his banking app and initiated another payment, this time eight hundred dollars. His hands shook while he hit confirm.

Tass received the alert instantly. She leaned back, spreading her legs slightly as she imagined his desperation. "That's it, drain yourself for me," she whispered to herself. Her fingers slipped under her skirt, brushing her wet pussy. She recorded a voice note: "Listen to this while you send the next one. I want you to stroke that pathetic cock but stop before you cum. Only I decide when you finish."

He played the note on repeat. Her sultry voice commanded him. He unzipped, gripping his hardening shaft. Each stroke synced with her instructions. He transferred another thousand, watching his balance drop. Sweat beaded on his forehead. The denial made his balls ache, but he obeyed, edging himself until his vision blurred.

Over the next week, Tass escalated. She demanded screenshots of his accounts daily. "Show me how empty you're becoming," she texted. He complied, sending proof of his dwindling savings. In return, she sent photos of herself in lingerie, captioned with demands for luxury gifts. He bought her a diamond necklace online, charging it to his maxed credit card.

Their sessions grew intense. Tass scheduled video calls where she lounged naked, legs spread, fingers circling her clit. "Watch me enjoy what your money buys," she purred. He knelt before his screen, cock throbbing untouched. She made him transfer live during the call, describing how his cash funded her vacations while he suffered in chastity. "No touching until the next tribute hits."

By the end of the month, Pig had sent over ten thousand dollars. Tass rewarded him with a rare permission: "Cum for me now, but only while repeating 'I am your wallet.'" He obeyed, shooting ropes across his floor as he chanted the phrase. She laughed softly on the call, already planning the next drain.

Tass introduced new rules. Pig had to ask permission for every purchase, even groceries. She denied most, forcing him to live on basics while she indulged. His cock stayed locked in a device she controlled remotely via app. Each denied request led to another payment as punishment.

One evening, she hosted a group chat with other subs. Pig watched as she auctioned off his next tribute slot. Bids flew in, and he won by sending the highest amount yet. Tass praised him publicly: "My favorite cash cow." The humiliation mixed with arousal left him leaking in his cage.

As weeks passed, Tass pushed boundaries further. She had him sell personal items, wiring the proceeds directly to her. His apartment grew bare, but his devotion deepened. During one call, she described fucking a real man with his money, detailing every thrust while Pig listened, denied and desperate.

The story continued with escalating tributes and sessions. Tass's control tightened, turning Pig into a shell of his former self, fueled only by her commands and the erotic rush of financial surrender. He sent everything he earned, month after month, lost in the cycle of give and obey. She added more layers, requiring him to beg for each release through voice messages that she ignored for days. Pig found himself wiring funds for her spa days, watching videos she sent of her relaxing in luxury funded by his sacrifices. His cage clicked shut tighter with each remote command, and he edged endlessly to her instructions without relief. Tass invited him to witness live streams where she spent his tributes on high-end meals, describing the flavors while he starved at home. His payments grew automatic, set up to hit her account the moment she snapped her fingers in a text. Pig's world narrowed to her voice, her demands, and the constant ache of denial mixed with the rush of emptying his accounts for her pleasure.