Let's be perfectly clear. There is no man more attractive to me than one who is weak, on his knees, with his card out and ready to shop. Your only value is the money you can give me. I’ve reduced you to a simple dollar sign. If you are not paying, you simply do not exist to me. It’s cruel, it’s cold, and you absolutely fucking love it, don’t you? You love being treated like the financial object you are. You get a sick thrill from handing over your hard-earned cash, from watching your credit card balance climb higher and higher as I take more and more. You love it because my pleasure is your purpose. It pleases your Goddess when you sacrifice, when you do with less so that I can have more. That is your divine role. You are my wallet bitch. In this clip, I will reinforce your worthlessness without my tribute. I will coldly demand payments while reminding you that your existence is conditional on your spending. You will listen, you will obey, and you will feel that deep, humiliating satisfaction of fulfilling your only purpose: funding my desires. Now, prove you exist. Pay your tribute, wallet.
