Your Money Has a Purpose

The game is on puppy. 🖤

Look at you, sitting there pretending that money in your account makes you important. It doesn’t. Not when you’re staring at a goddess and wondering how quickly you can make that balance hit 0.

You’re awfully predictable. You get a speck of attention, you feel that little tingle, and suddenly all those dollars you were so proud of don’t seem nearly as important anymore. You can feel yourself twitch and leak, but you know better than to touch. You’re only given permission to send and beg.

You can’t impress me with words. You’re not powerful, nothing but a spec of dirt on my shoes. The only way you could ever be useful in your pathetic life is to commit yourself to me. Be the pathetic little gambler who keeps coming back because losing to me feels better than keeping your money ever did. Even without that release you feel more euphoric than ever, holding it in to please me. I want to see just how worthless you can make your bank balance for your goddess. Or rather how long you can last before I break you.