Chapter 8

Bruce didn’t have the money to call Natalie’s phone line the other day, which ruined his entire week. But he’d been paid and finally had enough money to give her a call. He’d even have some money left after the fact that he could spend on his wife, perhaps. He’d been feeling guilty since she nearly caught him jerking off to Natalie once again. He’d lied to her and told her he’d talked to his debtors, that it was all a big misunderstanding, and she seemed to trust him.

She’d snuggled into his arms that night for the first time in a week, and he’d built up his resolve to quit spending money on Natalie. He couldn’t quit her, he knew this now, he was her gooner forever. But maybe he could keep his spending in check, balance being Natalie’s paypig and being a real human being with a job and wife and life.

“Bruce,” Natalie said when he joined the call. Hearing her bratty voice say his name was enough to make his cock throb. “You didn’t call last week.”

“I didn’t have the money—” Bruce started, but Natalie cut him off.

“Um, I don’t care. Spending money on me is what you exist to do, right? I thought you liked spending money on me.”

“I do,” Bruce said, but she wasn’t listening to him. “Send me $100, I have something for you.”

“For me?” Bruce asked. Natalie had something for him, specifically? His palms started to sweat, his heart pounded. She thought about him? He wasn’t worthy. “I’m not worthy—” He began, but she cut him off.

“Just send me the money,” she snapped.

“Sent, Princess,” he said once he was done. Her bratty voice making him excited.

“Check your email. Oh, and if you’re not wearing headphones already, put some on.” Bruce’s inbox chimed with an email from Natalie. It was a link. He clicked it and the next thing he knew audio was playing, Natalie’s voice was layered over binaural beats, light music that seemed to flitter through Bruce’s head, lodging right in his brain. Her voice did what it always did to him, turned him on, but the music made him feel lightheaded and sleepy. He wanted to stroke his cock. He rested his head on the desk, playing with himself sleepily as Natalie spoke.

He could barely concentrate, but it seemed his brain was understanding her messages without him. He felt like a horny zombie.

“Gooner,” Natalie sneered. “Money, now.” A minute later, “Good paypig.”

Bruce felt himself sending her another $100. A small puddle of his drool gradually collected, wetting the side of his face. He couldn’t move to wipe it away, he needed one hand on his cock, the other on his mouth to give Natalie more of his money. The audio kept going, her words familiar. It was looping, he thought, somewhere in his dreamy brain. “Gooner. Money, now.” He clicked away, another 100 gone. “Good paypig.” He was a good paypig. He was Natalie’s good pay pig. Over and over again the hypnosis audio looped, and Bruce gave her money each time while he played with his cock. He couldn’t seem to get off, he was too drowsy, but he could click small small salary away.

Between her demands for money Natalie insulted him, calling him stupid, worthless, pathetic. He agreed. He nodded in a puddle of his own drool, his cock, which belonged to Natalie, aching but unable to get off. “Stupid simp,” Natalie said, and then the audio looped again. “Gooner. Money, now.”

“Good paypig,” She said.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bruce knew that he was nearing the last of his money. As the loop repeated, he hit send again but got an error message. That was it. His money was gone. He wouldn’t be taking his wife out this week, though he’d already promised her he would. He wouldn’t be paying off any debts. He didn’t even know how he’d pay for new clips next week. The shame and defeat built inside him, just as Natalie reminded him that he was a “good paypig,” and he came hard.

It took him a minute to come back to his senses, and when he did he checked the time. He had spent an hour in her hypnotic loop, missing out on her live call, but Natalie would still hopefully be online. He hoped back onto the call.

“Natalie,” he said. He was still feeling lightheaded. It took him a moment to place the emotions that were overwhelming him. Shock, fear, awe, all mixing together.

“God, why are you interrupting me?” Natalie asked, annoyed. “Why would you possibly think I care what you have to share.”

“I’m sorry, Goddess,” Bruce said, hanging his head in shame. “It’s just. I’ve just spent my last $100 on you. I was supposed to take my wife out with that money.”

Natalie laughed.

Bruce thought he was about to accuse her of hypnotizing him, maybe even beg her for some of his money back, he couldn’t. Her laugh, bratty and superior, took away all his doubts. Of course he gave her all his money. She deserved it.

“Am I a good paypig?” Bruce asked, but Natalie only giggled harder.