Look at you, my smart little chump - so proud of yourself for taking Me to the back room like you’ve won something, like you’ve earned Me. Sweetheart, let Me make one thing crystal clear: I’m here because My pussy itches for attention, My tits need worship, and My wallet needs filling - and lucky for Me, you’re about to hand over every last dollar in yours like the eager little cash cow you are. You don’t get to touch, you don’t get to choose, you don’t even get to breathe without My permission. You’re here to serve - to kneel, to tip, to worship every inch of Me until your bank account is dry and your soul is hollow. And don’t think I don’t see that pathetic bulge in your pants - oh, you’re turned on, aren’t you? Hard as a rock, knowing you’re about to be drained…not just of money, but of that weak little load you’ve been saving. So here’s what’s gonna happen: I’m going to tease you, torment you, grind on you just enough to make your head spin…and then, when you’re begging to cum, I’ll count down —5…4…3… - and you’ll explode in your pants like the desperate loser you are, all while funding My next lap dance with someone real. That’s your purpose, baby. And you’ll pay for the privilege.
