Im In Charge Now Loser

A while back I told a story from the perspective of a paypiggy, but many of you were confused, thinking it was autobiographical. No, I'm not the piggy, I'm the one in charge, the one on top, the one always in control. I'm Daddy.

I knew from a young age that I was better than other men. Other men just have a weakness to them, a lack of drive and purpose. They wander around aimlessly trying to figure out what they're meant to do. Deep down they know they're weak and pathetic, they know they don't deserve the things they have, but they don't know what to do about it to set things right.

That's where I come in. These sad little sissies seek me out and beg for my attention. They tell me how worthless they are. They can't find love, they can't find success. They try and try to fight off these sexual urges, but they can't shake them.

For some it's feet. For others it's cock, but for many of those they pretend to be "straight", and fight their love of big dicks. For most of them they crave humiliation and degradation, because they know they're lesser creatures, and they deserve to be put down, constantly in service of a better man.

I have no use for men sexually. Their bodies have no appeal to me. But they do have cash, and there's no better feeling for a strong, powerful, superior man than draining every last penny out of some worthless little cashfag. They beg for attention, for validation, for purpose. And I give them a purpose: Me.

My first was actually a woman, a rarity in findom circles. She was very large, over 350lbs, and craved humiliation for her size. We started out simply, with me mocking her, telling her she was unfuckable, making her dance for my entertainment. Then she suggested a fat tax. One dollar per pound per month.

I didn't think she was serious, but I agreed, and before long I had $365 being sent my way. This unlocked something in me I never knew I desired, but now that it was there I couldn't ignore it. I was a findom, and I could never go back to how things were. I made her send more videos, then send me hazard pay for having watched her flabby body. I gave her humiliating tasks to complete, and charged her based on performance. And of course the fat tax. I encouraged her to gain more weight, to increase my monthly payment.

Over time we drifted apart, it's difficult to maintain a findom relationship long term, but the experience shaped me. Now it's mostly sad little men who seek me out, but the pleasure I get from taking what they have hasn't changed.

This one guy recently begged to make a picture of my feet his phone lock screen. He has a wife and a good job, and every time he opens his phone he risks exposure as a footfag. He pays me a daily "licensing fee" for the use of my picture, plus a weekly fagtax, payments for permission to cum, and other payments just because he knows it's better that I have his money than him.

One truly pathetic loser had a big tax refund on the way, almost $10,000, but he feared he wouldn't have the willpower to send it all to me when the time came, so he asked if I could blackmail him into sending. He gave me a small amount of information, just his name and location, and before long I was confirming with him his wife's name and phone number, his parents' address, his boss' social media.

He dressed up in pink panties and made videos detailing the disgusting things he's done in the past. When he ran out of things to confess, I made some up and he recited them on camera as if they'd really happened. With a collection of humiliating evidence hanging over his head, and my finger on the launch button, ready to send it all to everyone he knew, his tax refund was headed my way in no time.

The best are the ones who truly embrace their place as inferior cashfag subs and paypigs, the ones who have decided to devote their lives to service. They wake up in the morning and send without being prompted. They send regularly just to make sure I feel appreciated. They don't send because of my feet or my cock or my words. They don't send because I have something on them. They send because it's their purpose in life, they provide for a superior man.

Right now I'm working on a couple young men in college, preparing them to serve me for life. They're studying hard so they can get good jobs, high paying jobs. The more they make, the more they can send. They go without luxuries, they pick up extra shifts at their part time jobs, they do whatever they can to make sure they're maximizing their sends to Daddy. Someday soon they'll be working real jobs, one plans to be a police officer, another might be heading into marketing. And I'll be there to capture a significant portion of every paycheque.

My dream is one day to find a true debt slave, someone who wants to take things as far as they possibly can. They'll sell their car, sell their house, sell anything they own of value. They'll go to the bank and take out a loan, the biggest one they can get. And then they'll send it all to me. True debt service, buried under actual, real, legal debt. Spend the rest of their life toiling away to try to dig themselves out of the hole they put themself in for me. If I could find that dumb cashfag bitch, I'd be the happiest Daddy in the world.

I should go now, I've got a busy night ahead of them. This new sissy claims he's the VP of Finance at the company he works for, makes a huge wage, but knows he doesn't deserve his success. He thinks he might be happier if he were working on my behalf instead of his own. Maybe he's for real, maybe he's my new whale sub, but maybe he's just wasting my time. I'll figure it out quickly either way, I have no tolerance for time wasters and fakes.

Doesn't matter though, there are always more where he came from. The world is full of unimpressive men with small dicks and more money than they deserve, and I want to take it from all of them.