Sarah stirred awake, feeling the light from the partly opened curtain hit her closed eyelids. Mmmmm. What time was it? Probably way too damn early. Don't look at your phone, she told herself. Go back to sleep. Bound to be earlier than you want it to be. Just don't look at it Sarah. Just try and sleep some more. Sleeeep.
She picked up her phone. 6:50. Big clear ugly numerals staring back at her. Ugh. But also... there were the other little things on the home screen. The little notifications. Payments. Incoming. As cool and serene about it as she usually was these days, that first glance when she had just woken up always gave her a little tingle of excitement, like she had felt the first time. It was like she had forgotten in her sleep about this thing in her life, and so it felt more intense to be reminded. But there it was, just like every morning. Money. Men sending her money. Because she was hot. Because they admired her. Looked up to her. Wanted to please her. To serve her. That tingling she had got that first time. Heart racing a little. A thrill. Something exciting, kind of taboo, although there was no law against it that she knew of. That incredulity she had felt. Like holy shit, this is actually working. Some loser is actually sending me his money. It was nice feeling that stirring of excitement again, first thing in the morning.
OK so, let's see what we have here. Random PayPal, £10. Justin. No idea who that is. Yeah cute Justin but, y'know, send more. Onlyfans subscriptions, three, a few tips. OK its money but also booring. Usual £20 from Leo. She chuckled over Leo. Of all the pathetic losers this guy was really something. She had told him to send a tribute every day and never speak to her. The fucking loser had only done it for like 90 days straight and counting. Unreal, and also hilarious. What a fucking loser. He might as well send while she was asleep because he was never going to get a scrap of attention anyway. Good sub though. Low maintenance definitely. And hilarious. OK, next. Ooh hello. Weird amount, must be an American. £81.07. A hundred dollars I guess, from Scott. Long time no pay, Scott. I'll take it though. Good piggy. Not a bad haul just for lying asleep, beats working. Must do better though. Tonight lets put something out there to inspire these losers. Make them compete with each other.
Scrolling her tributes had got the heart pumping a little and there was no way she was going back to sleep now. Time for coffee. Sarah was simply not a morning person by any definition, but the one thing she loved about mornings was coffee. She rolled out of bed and padded lightly through to the kitchen on her bare feet. She looked at the fancy Nespresso machine she had made some nerd buy for her. She must have used it like twice or something. Nah. I'll go down to the coffee shop. They make better coffee and two out of four of the baristas could be called hot. So it was lucky dip. Plus its not like I'm paying for it. But then there was the dilemma: to shower and make herself beautiful just in case hot guy 1 or hot guy 2 was on duty, or just go scruffy with her bed head? Fuck it, I'm hot as fuck anyway, she decided, pulling a hoodie over her pyjama top and stepping into flip flops. These pyjama short things showed off her legs anyway. Sarah had great legs.
Hot guy 2, the one with the dark curly hair, smiled and gave Sarah the glad eye as he handed her the latte. She rewarded him with a little wink, then turned to treat him to a glance at her fine ass as she left. She didn't have to look round and catch him looking. She just knew. If only he knew, she thought, chuckling. She stood outside, admired the latte art (he had done a heart for her), then took that glorious first sip. Nothing better than the first sip of the first coffee of the day.
Right, might as well get this paid for. Always fun to see how many times over she could get it reimbursed. Every time Sarah spent money, she ended up richer than before. As it should be. She took a picture of the coffee and tweeted it with the caption: "Pay for this losers. I want it covered many times over. Now."
She could hear the payment notifications going off as she fumbled with her keys getting back into the flat. It made her laugh out loud. OK OK you little losers. Give me a second.
She went and sat on the balcony with her coffee. OK who was first? David. Pathetically poor but always eager to please. Good bitch. Then Gunnar from Norway, good boy. Ugly fucker but he knows his place. And Simon. Don't know him. No message either. Silent sender, love it. Three reimbursements. Pathetic. Time for another tweet. She screen-shotted the three, blanked out the names, an action she had done so many time she could do it one handed. Then tweeted them out, just saying "reimbursed three times but it should be more". Then went back to sipping her latte. She cleared out the non-paying trash from her message requests while waiting for more payments. Even bigger losers than the losers who paid her were these dickheads who tried to get her attention for free. In your dreams, toads. One more payment in. You're late, Loserpig5. If that really is your name anyway.
After showering and pampering herself a little while she checked her phone again. Lol. That's more like it. Seven more losers trying to get her attention. Like a pack of little dogs begging for scraps. That might just be a record. Eleven reimbursements. No more than I deserve, she thought, pulling on her favourite comfy panties. She looked in the full length mirror. Yes, I am hot, she thought. And I get paid for it.
The doorbell rang and she grinned to herself. Packages time.
"Morning Sarah."
The postman was bemused as usual.
"Just the four today."
He was cute enough in a dad bod kind of way. Probably would, after a few drinks. Whatever.
She took the packages, thanked him and closed the door gently before carrying her packages back upstairs.
The first two looked boring, Amazon wish list stuff. Probably gym wear or something. Pathetic losers buying her stuff. Always handy, but also boring. She tossed them onto the pile of unopened boxes in the corner of the living room. Next one - chocolates, yeah less boring. She opened the box, stuffed one in her mouth then tossed it with the other packages. The final package had that feel about it. Class. It just smelled of money. Hooo yes. I think I know what this one is.
She unwrapped it gently, feeling a little excitement as she did so. Inside, Agent Provocateur. Nice. A beautiful bra and panty set, lacy silver/grey. Sent by cuck Frodo. If that really was his name. Good boy anyway. She took the set into the bedroom, put it down on the bed and took a picture of the beautiful lingerie.
Maybe just a little reward for the cuck. She sent him the picture of the lingerie he had bought, lying on the bed.
"You will never see me wearing this. A real man will, though."
Then she undressed and slipped into the exquisite panties and the delicate half-cup bra. It made her feel aroused, and she thought about calling Carl. She admired herself in the mirror, took a couple of test pictures, then lay back on the bed. She sent one of the pictures to Carl, giggling as she thought of that nice thick cock of his getting hard at work.
Checked her loser messages - reply from Frodo.
"Thank you for the privilege of buying them Goddess Sara."
Dropping the h in her name was not exactly spy-level anonymity but hey, she was only 19 when she thought it up and it seemed to work well enough.
Rather than just chat off the cuff with these losers, Sarah always took a moment before replying. Thinking of the most effective reply. The one that would weaken them. The one that would make them pay the most. It was a game to her, and she was skilled at the game after two years. She enjoyed her own intelligence, her cunning, and her powers of manipulation.
This one was going to be easy though.
"What is the best way to thank me though?" she replied.
She counted the beats, waiting for the notification. Ching! £30. God this was so easy.
"Thank you for letting me pay again to thank you for letting me buy the lingerie for you Goddess Sara."
She laughed. Although she was exposed to it pretty much all day every day, she still found it incredible just how pathetically submissive these losers could be.
"You're welcome cuck. I'm going to have a real man come over and enjoy me in the lingerie you bought."
"Oh God, thank you Goddess Sara. It is such a privilege to pay for your pleasure and a real man's pleasure."
"You know what I'll want to hear in the background while he fucks me, don't you cuck?"
"Yes Goddess, cash notifications. Please let me know when he is there and I will be waiting to pay."
"Good little cuck. Round up some other losers too. After work time. Your work time that is, I don't have to work, do I? Now go away until I call you for more payment."
"Yes Goddess Sara. Thank you Goddess Sara."
*
Sarah felt irritated as she stepped into the gym shower cubicle. A little pull in her delicate calf had forced her to cut short her workout. She had been in the zone, enjoying working up a sweat, ignoring the subtle little glances of the men around her. The power and heat of the shower made her feel better. Always so much more enjoyable here, so much space, so much water. She angled her body to direct the flow of the hot water down towards her calf, and the soothing heat took the pain away.
Patting herself dry with the fluffy towel, she allowed herself a glance at her phone. There were notifications of course. Money. Also, a message from Carl.
"Thanks for the work boner you little minx. When can I come over?"
She giggled. Let him dream for a while before replying. She had already decided she wanted his cock today, but he didn't need to know that right away.
