My Cock. My Cash. My Planet.
The air around Mistress Misha Goldy crackled with power as she stepped onto her expansive, plushy platform. Her heels dug into the soft surface, carving out a path of dominance that left no room for doubt. She was the center of attention, her presence commanding and unyielding. Her eyes swept across the room, taking in every detail - from the trembling man kneeling before her to the stacks of cash that lined the walls.
Her gaze fell upon him, and he shuddered under her gaze. He was small in comparison to her, his body quivering with anticipation and fear. She could see the bulge in his pants, a testament to how much he longed for her even before she had spoken a word. Mistress Misha smiled, her lips curling into a wicked grin that sent shivers down his spine.
"Look at you," she purred, her voice like velvet over steel. "Tiny, trembling, already hard just staring up at me. You didn't even press play yet, and you're leaking like some weak little walletworm with a cock." She stepped closer, her towering figure casting an imposing shadow over him. "What were you expecting? A welcome mat?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Bitch, I am the earthquake."
With that, she grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at her. He couldn't help but stare, mesmerized by her beauty and power. "Your bank account already knows my name," she continued, her grip tightening. "Your dick? It's a panic button I step on whenever I want. And this? This is my heel—raised, glinting, about to drop. Right where your savings used to live. You don't get to watch me. You worship me. You fund me. You beg to be flattened."
She released him, stepping back to admire the effect she had on him. His cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and his eyes were filled with a mixture of lust and fear. Mistress Misha smiled, knowing that she had him right where she wanted him. "If you can't afford me," she drawled, "don't bother crawling. But if you can... strip. Stroke. Shiver. And pay the fuck up."
Her voice was a command, and he didn't hesitate to obey. He undressed slowly, his movements deliberate and tantalizing. As he did so, he felt her gaze boring into him, assessing his worth. When he was finally naked before her, he lowered himself to his knees, his head bowed in submission.
Mistress Misha stepped closer, her towering frame casting a long shadow over him. She reached down and grabbed his cock, squeezing it gently at first before starting to stroke it in time with her words. "I'm not just above you," she purred. "I own what's left of you."
Her words were a threat and a promise, and they sent shivers down his spine. He could feel the heat of her body against his skin, the softness of her breasts brushing against his cheek. As she continued to stroke his cock, he felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.
Finally, she released him, stepping back to admire the sight of him on his knees, cock in hand. "That's it," she murmured. "Show me how much you love me."
With that, he exploded, his cum spurting across the room to land at her feet. She watched, unmoved, as he shook with the force of his orgasm. When he was finally spent, he looked up at her, waiting for her next command.
Mistress Misha smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Rise, my little walletworm," she said, her voice a low rumble. "Go and get yourself cleaned up. You've got a long day ahead of you, worshipping your Mistress and funding her lifestyle."
He rose unsteadily to his feet, still trembling from the intensity of the experience. As he walked away, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder at the power of Mistress Misha Goldy.
