I was a walking payment app
There was a deep humiliation in the way she treated me. I was nothing more than a payment app at her command.
There was a scene I use to play out with a stunningly beautiful and far too young for me Black Woman I knew back in the day. She’d dress to impress, I’d go low with “looks like I’m trying but couldn’t afford it”, then we’d go off into town. Obviously we caught a bit of attention.
I had a prepaid card on me with a set amount and she’d burn through it. There was subtle stuff in what she said and did. She’d never ask for anything, just tell me she’s having it. If we had a coffee or a meal she’d either walk off from the counter after placing her order, or toss the bill at me. In shops she’d stand waiting for me to pay without saying a word. As the balance ran down the comments about, “Can you afford this?” or “Maybe you don’t have enough?” started. She’d push it to the point the card was declined.
The whole thing was an intense experience. Obviously I was attracted to this incredibly hot woman and there was a deep excitement from being with someone way out of my league. How she controlled me was wild. There was never any overt, “Yes, Mistress” or getting on my knees, spanking or whatever. Just a look was enough to make me feel about a half metre tall. Then there was the deep humiliation from the way she treated me.
For an hour or two I was nothing more than a walking payment app.
It was never a huge amount of money that went on the card (relatively speaking) but it was the principle. It was the control of being compelled to wind down the balance until it was zero. And maybe the psychological safety-net of knowing there was a hard limit too.
We did it a half dozen times or so before she packed in sugaring. The fact I still think about it from time to time should tell you the impact it had.
The Wasteman Surrenders
Yewande takes control as the cleaner becomes the owner, and claims the first wasteman for her new world order.