SupremeDrainer
by on June 2, 2019
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I can overlook certain indiscretions when they’re minor in the grand scheme. Canceling a small wish list order that never shipped after I drained $1,000 in cash–well, not worth holding a grudge over. Canceling a $500 Amazon gift card that was still processing after I helped myself to $2,000 otherwise–definitely annoying, but a pittance compared to the windfall I’d already achieved. But trying to take absolutely everything back? Pathetically pleading for a refund after taking up my time? That’s inexcusable. My attention isn’t a product that just be returned and resold. Once consumed it’s gone forever.

Enter Chifag, who is continually achieving new highs in being a disappointment. After sending a mere $600, a paltry amount relative to some of the epic drainings he’s known for, the faggot had the gall to beg for everything back. What did that mean? Undoubtedly that Chifag had lost his load. After unleashing all his pent-up desire, achieving the fulfillment he’d been craving, and feeling that incredible release, the faggot felt regret set in.

Not every sub suffers from regret after submission–even some of the high rollers seem completely immune–but for many it’s an inescapable part of the cash slave cycle, a low that follows that extreme high of giving in. This is when many cash slaves decide that they’re quitting findom, mistaking the temporary abatement of their libidos for a permanent transformation that will suddenly empower them to never drain again. If you’ve found yourself in this position, however extreme your regret was, you already know how quickly the conviction seems to erode as fantasies take over, as you stalk your favorite doms and imagine surrendering yourself yet again.

How many millions of people start every year resolving to get fit only to drop the ambition within a few weeks? They fail because the goal was merely an idealistic aspiration, a dream they never had any serious intention or capability of achieving. When their weak resolve inevitably recedes they revert back to exactly what they were.

And that’s what “quitting” findom always is: an idealistic aspiration. A wispy fantasy that is unavoidably halted by the immutable reality of a person’s constitution; a dream destined to recede. Needs can be ignored and repressed but inevitably they overwhelm illusions of self-control. And when the sub ultimately crawls back after resolutely telling himself that this is all over, that he’s never, never going to pay an alpha again, that’s why: he failed at upholding a completely unrealistic and insincere resolution. He tried to ignore a fundamental need that will never go away.

So Chifag scuttled off, content to temporarily entertain the absurd fantasy that he could live without me–just as he has so many times before. Like I always say, I’m patient. Whatever a cash slave deludes himself into resolving, I already know what the outcome will be. It’s just a matter of time. And sure enough, as soon as the shameful regret part of the cash slave cycle had dissipated, as soon as Chifag felt his cravings bubbling up again, he couldn’t resist my pull any longer.

Destiny. You can fight all you want, wrap yourself up in fervent denials while you struggle to enforce your vacant resolution, but truth ultimately prevails. Nature prevails. You are what you are, and you can’t help but look up to what I am. Chifag can’t stop paying any more than I could simply renounce my nature and suddenly start paying. It’s never going to happen.

The loser lasted less than 2 months before I saw his name in an email notification. I grinned. Without even opening the actual message I knew exactly what it was going to say and exactly where it would lead. So much for that resolution, that forced self-denial.

Remarkably, I’d actually thought about Chifag a few hours before spotting the notification. Nothing substantial, just the random realization that he’d managed to remain quiet for awhile. I wondered how much longer he would last before I finally heard from him again. Not if I would, of course, just when. It’s almost like he felt my thought, and that irrelevant morsel of my attention finally destroyed his weakening reverie.

“Could I ever do anything that would make up for my fuck ups?” Chifag had written.

“Fuck off,” I replied dismissively, ignoring his subsequent messages for a couple of hours.

“Please,” the faggot begged.

When I finally deigned to acknowledge him, the loser paid $100 almost immediately. And even without further prompting Chifag had quickly dispatched $300 more.

“Thank you so much,” he praised after being allowed to repent. “Can I send you any info? Credit card or whatever?”

Chifag has always gotten off on divulging details like that–I’ve had his home address for years–though I’ve typically considered the information useless. Now, though, having endured his last frustrating bout of insolent behavior, I realized I could turn it all to my advantage.

“Have anything I can post in the event you piss me off again that would make you insanely regretful?” I wondered. “I’d fucking love to have that.”

“A pic of my driver’s license and/or credit card?” Chifag suggested. “Maybe with an email saying I’m Chifag and asking to be exposed if I ever try to take back your money?”

Perfect. I ordered him to divulge all of the above.

“Such a good idea. So much fuckin’ power for you! Can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Really? I didn’t have any trouble believing it. About 5 minutes later, the faggot surrendered everything: a picture of one of his signed credit cards, a picture of his driver’s license, and a brief statement:

“SupremeDrainer is a perfect alpha god and I deserve to be fucked over by him if I ever fuck up again.”

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Mediocre. I told him to draft it again.

“I’m a stupid queer piece of shit who lives to get cash raped by SupremeDrainer,” the cash fag’s second attempt began. “If I ever fuck up like that again, I hope he’ll expose me as the queer garbage I am.”

“The queer merely hopes?” I critiqued. Seriously, Chifag? You thought I would settle for that? This was such a simple task!

After a couple of minutes he submitted his third try: “I’m a stupid queer piece of shit who lives to get cash raped by SupremeDrainer. If I ever fuck up like that again I BEG him to expose me as the queer garbage I am.”

“Is that better?” the faggot asked.

Now I was smiling at least. Good enough. “And speaking of cash rape, stupid fag scum still owes me.”

“Fuck. Sent,” Chifag obeyed. “Your god cock wins again.”

Another $300 handed over to my massive dick while the loser flicked his feeble little fag nub imagining draining even more to its perfection. Already $700 for the night.

“I love your tweets about constant fucking,” Chifag lauded. “Massive alpha cock wrecking cunts all the fuckin’ time.”

10-15 times a week. At least. I’m a beast.

“I love to imagine you fucking but it’s impossible to imagine me ever fucking,” the faggot continued. “Your huge cock is so perfect and such an inspiration. I love that you could completely fuck up my life in addition to fucking my queer cash cunt. Your fucking dick is all powerful.”

Of course no one wants to get fucked by an insignificant fag clit. They all want to be ravaged by perfection. My perfection. Pussy and cash pussy, I wreck everything.

“Fuck. I’m such a stupid queer shit,” the loser wrote. “Stupid and dickless. I should suffer long and hard before I can see your perfect dick. Fuck. I can imagine the look of wonder on bitches’ faces when they see it, then start dripping and begging you to wreck their cunts. I’m the most worthless and stupid piece of shit with the most disgusting dick on earth. I know you’ll take out your anger on me like I deserve. I’m shit and I deserve it.”

Maybe the regret over disappointing me felt even worse than the temporary regret that had spurred Chifag’s two month trek into the darkness. Not that it mattered. I was definitely going to make him suffer after what he pulled.

“You deserve total annihilation now,” I pronounced. “The dickless fag needs to be transformed into a financial eunuch too. Reminded that your insignificant life has just one purpose, and that it’s far, far better with every credit card you have maxed out in service to this massive alpha cock.”

“Omfg!” the faggot reacted. “You’re perfect. Whenever I think you’ve degraded me as much as possible, you show what a huge alpha dick on a real man can do–punish queer cunts like the shit we are just like it destroys pussies. It’s gonna leave me barely hanging on as it takes everything.”

The loser claimed my words had been inspiring, but I wasn’t seeing the proof. There would be no mercy at all for the dumb dickless queer trash.

“Fuckkk. Sent. Fuck me. I’m stupid trash!”

$100 more.

“Literally the one thing in the world this queer is useful for,” I wrote back. “What is your life without perfection in it, Chifag? Nothing.”

Nothing at all. A fact he’d realized once again in that lonely time by himself.

“Without your massive alpha dick to live for, my existence is fucking pointless,” the faggot agreed. “I’m just a cash pussy for you to brutally rape.”

At that moment, already horny and energized by the $800 I’d collected, my rock hard dick was literally in my hand. “Imagine that sight, loser!” I teased, knowing how desperate the cash fag was to see it. “Fucking up your faggot cash pussy with this monster. Not going to stop until everything you have is mine.”

“That cock smells debt and wants more. Everything to get that alpha king dick off. Nothing but pain and suffering for the queer thing it rapes.”

That is your purpose, Chifag. Deny, retreat, pretend, but after all these years you’re still begging to pay homage, desperate to submit to perfection. You always will be. And when will I be done? When there’s absolutely nothing left to take–that’s the only way to satisfy me.

“No mercy for fag wallets,” I declared. “Fuck them until they’re totally dry and empty. Its the only way!”

“Oh fuck. Imagining how massive and hard that thing is watching me saddle myself with months of payments. This is gonna make my queer clit cum.”

See, for all those worthless protestations, this is what the faggot really wants. Leave him alone to restraint and self-control and this is the carnal place he always reaches. Ideally Chifag would never get off–he’d never feel those brief periods of regret that deprive him of fulfillment. Instead he’d just finger his tiny little fag clit deeper and deeper into debt for my perfection.

“Fuck. How far are you gonna go tonight?” Chifag wondered.

It was already 2:00 AM, and after a tough workout earlier in the day I should have already been asleep. But I’d been enjoying saddling Chifag with fresh credit card debt, and knowing that I wasn’t going to get laid until days later made it all the more difficult to keep my hands off my cock.

“Let’s find out,” I encouraged. “Feel this dick stretching out that cash pussy again, fag trash.”

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“Sent,” the faggot complied. “Holy fuck. Massive perfection is tearing my queer cash cunt up. ‘No’ means 'harder’ when queer garbage says it." 

"Fuck yeah. Feels so right, doesn’t it? You know I’m just taking what I deserve. And that’s unlimited–it’s never enough. My appetite for pussy and cash cunt is completely insatiable!”

“Fuck. Its destructive potential is infinite,” Chifag recognized. “No matter how bad the damage seems, it’s always capable of and working toward more. Massive perfect dick is going to take it all.”

At that moment I set a goal for Chifag: I want every single card he has completely maxed out.

“Oh god. You want to completely ruin me. It must be so huge and hard.”

The faggot was obviously angling to see my dick, something he’d already hinted at multiple times, but I’d spent hours denying him–and I denied him again. If Chifag is serious about having that privilege, he’ll have to earn it back. Maybe after another $1,000. Maybe $2,000. We’ll see, loser, we’ll see!

I started dozing off as the faggot’s replies grew less frequent, succumbing to sleep shortly after I wrote my last message. I wasn’t missing out, though, since Chifag didn’t write anything else until 8:00 PM. At that point, he definitely hadn’t hit the regret stage of the cash slave cycle:

“In case I hadn’t already been tortured by knowing that perfect alpha cock was getting hard over my increasing credit card debt, a reminder that some other fag actually got to witness perfection. Totally fucking with my head tweeting about someone else.”

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I knew you’d be watching, Chifag, and I certainly know how much you miss this dick. Who wouldn’t? Like I said, earn it back! And don’t disappoint me again after one of your unfortunate releases, because you know how real the hunger is. Even if I completely disappeared, that gnawing lust never will. You need me.

Whatever your hollow words and empty resolutions, I’ll always know what you are. I’ll always know what you need. And I’ll never stop taking what I deserve.

Skype/kik: SupremeDrainer
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