Date: Sat, 26 Feb 2011 12:24:10 +0000 (GMT)
From: Jamie Knight <badboyjed@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Cashmaster Jed Part 4

This work is copyright and remains the intellectual property of the
author. Any reproduction, either in part or in whole, without the express,
written permission of the author is strictly forbidden.

      Fuck! It was good to be me!

      I was sat in my exclusive hotel suite, a clean white towel round my
slim waist, a tumbler of expensive scotch in my hand as I logged in on my
new Macbook Air, courtesy of my new suitfag. The piss-soaked wallet cunt
had been allowed to wash itself down in the bathroom, only using the sink
of course, after I had finished my luxurious wet room shower. As a reward
for following all of my email instructions so far, I allowed the fat loser
to dry it's disgusting blob of a body with my wet towel. It was now
changing into to the outfit I had told it to buy.

      So far the afternoon was going exactly as planned, plus a little
extra profit on the side. Unplanned wallet rapes and slave abuse always get
me extra horny. Queer fuckers always forked out their fagcash for young
greedy dominant lads like me, and I had plenty of experience using the
scum. This latest suited middle-aged faggot was a rich one. It had coughed
up the laptop, a grand in notes, now stuffed into the inside pocket of my
new Langlitz biker jacket, a fuckin' sweet gold chain, weighty round my
neck as I watched the homepage open, AND the pathetic shit had paid for
this fuckin' MINT hotel suite. On the side, I'd used and blackmailed a
young city bloke in the hotel bogs, for another 350 quid plus it's watch. I
had just liked the look of it, a fat expensive Tag Heuer, so of course the
fag handed it over. I always get what I want.

      I took a slug of scotch as my homepage on Cashlads.com showed I had
three new messages and there had been some comments from servile little
queers on the latest batch of photos I'd uploaded. I'd be adding loads more
before the weekend was over, starting with the ones of the suitcunt I used
in the bogs, which I bluetoothed over to the laptop. I called up the
messages and read the first one from one of my regular cashslaves, telling
me he had paid my latest phone bill and gym membership. The cunt had paid
for the phone as well months ago, and I used it for chat lines to find even
more eager submissives. The last bill was nearly 250 quid. I had made much
more than that from the fags I used; in their cars, in their offices, in
motorway services and in their own fucking homes when the little wifey was
out. Fuck I'll use a loaded fag anywhere.

      The second message was from another young dom looking to hook up and
use fags. I always treated stuff like this carefully. Normally it was from
lads looking to make some fast cash from sad middle-aged cunts by using my
experience and obvious success. (The pictures were there for the world to
see on the site after all). I checked out his profile, and he seemed pretty
good. Young skin lad, just 17, looked good in his skin gear flicking the
bird or with a blade, and using a variety of worthless fags on his
profile. He certainly had the right attitude. Might be good hooking up with
him, and he lived in the city, not far from the hotel I was staying in. I
send him a short reply, suggesting a meet and beers later in the evening.

      The third message was far more promising. It was from a faggot, who
called itself walletbitch. Nice. It lived about half an hour's drive
outside the city and was begging to serve as it had seen on my profile I
was in the area, abusing fags. It was online so I opened a chat window to
get it's attention.

      "Oioi fukka." Almost immediately a reply flashed up.
      "Thank you for your attention SSIR. How may I SServe?" Eager little
fucker. I gave it the usual response.
      "50GBP in MY paypal NOW fukka. Addy is on d profile. U got 2minutes."
      "Yes SSIR." Came the immediate reply.

      I opened up my Paypal account and logged in ready for it's tribute. I
was pleased to see 7 tributes from regular cunts since last night, each
paying it's weekly fagtax. I transferred them to my bank account, then
settled back to wait, sipping my scotch and wondering where I could get a
good fat Cuban cigar from.

      "Sir" said a small voice behind me. I swivelled on my chair and burst
out laughing. Kneeling at the bottom of the steps to the bedroom was my
cunt, dressed in a plastic and rubber French maids outfit, complete with
apron, cap and even fucking feather duster. It was so fucking funny I
whipped out my mobile a clicked off a few shots. It was fucking
priceless. The cunt's face was red with shame and embarrassment and I
didn't give a flying fuck. What a dickhead!

      "Keep still sweetheart!" I laughed, moving in closer for some close
ups. My new maid grovelled lower, trying to bury it's face in the deep pile
carpet. "Oh no you don't faggot!" I snarled, grabbing it by its ear and
forcing it's head up painfully, shoving my phone in it's face so there
could be no mistaking the shame and embarrassment on it's face. Fucking
hilarious. Still laughing I clicked off a few more shots.

      The chat window pinged. "Sent SSIR" it read. Slamming my new
fagmaid's head back down into the floor, I prowled back to my chair and
opened up the Paypal window.

      "Lick my feet sissyboi," I said quietly and my account refreshed. My
rubber fagmaid scurried to my feet and was soon reverently licking them. I
started laughing quietly to myself. I had scored again. My account was
fatter by £150. Another fuckin' result. My cock started twitching under my
towel as I called up the chat widow.

      "Fukkin nice tribute FAGGOT. I am pleased."
      "Thank you SSir. I really want to serve YOU realtime. Are you in your
hotel SSir?"
      "Yer fag n bein SServed VERY well."
      "May this cunt cum and worSShip YOU as well SSir?"
      "Yer fag, but u betta go fill yer fuckin wallet first ya fukin queer
piece of shit."
      "Yes SSir. Can it see YOU on cam pls SSSIR?"
      "OK CUNT." I typed. If it could fork over 150 notes straight off, I
was thinking that this could be a cunt worth using. Time to see if it was
for real.

      Almost straight away the cam request flashed up. I pulled closer to
the mac, making sure my smooth, perfect abs could be seen, then clicked
accept, tuning on my cocky sneer. The dual windows flicked open, which
allowed me to check myself out again (fuck I looked good with the gold
round my neck!) while some pointless advert scrolled round on the cunt's
cam.  I put my free foot up on the fagmaid's back and leaned back in the
chair whilst it carefully cleaned between each of the toes of my other foot
with it's faggy tongue. Walletbitch's cam window finally opened revealing a
dishevelled bespeckled man in his 30's wearing a shirt with the top button
undone and slack tie. He was staring eagerly at his screen, revealing a
thinning hairline. I checked my mic level and spoke, making the cunt
jump. "DO UP YOUR FUCKIN' TIE AND SHOW YOUR RESPECT FAGGOT," I snarled at
the screen. The tonguing below me paused in surprise. I kicked the cunt
hard and it swiftly resumed.

      "YÉyes Sir," walletbitch stammered, fumbling with its shirt button
and tie whilst trying to watch me on it's screen at the same time. I took
another slug of scotch whilst I waited and idly kicked the fagmaid again as
it continued to lick my god-like feet. It whimpered it's thanks.

      "Sorry SIR" walletbitch finally said, having made itself presentable.
      "That's better cuntboi," I said and flicked it the finger. The fag
virtually creamed there and then.
      "Thank you SIR," it snivelled gratefully. "Have I proved myself
worthy of serving you in person SIR? I'm glad you liked my tribute SIR. I
wanted to prove to you I am serious." I took another slug of scotch, and
just stared at the screen, eyeballing the fag. It shrivelled under the gaze
of a real man and finally stumbled on with it's stupid need to fill the
silence. "Did it please you SIR? I'm well off. I really need to serve you
SIR, I've admired you on Cashlads for months and couldn't believe it when
your status said you were coming here for a weekend of cashrape. Please
SIR, rape me in person and take my fagcash. I am your walking wallet SIR."

      It paused again, hopefully looking for my reaction. I continued
staring at the screen and finished my scotch as my cock started tenting in
the towel. The cunt's eyes widened.

      "You're not kneeling in my presence FAGGOT." I said after a
moment. The fag immediately slipped off the chair and onto it's knees,
nearly smashing it's chin on the desk. I didn't bother to cover the smirk
as walletbitch became just a head above the keyboard, giving me a good view
of the room behind it. It seemed to be a flat, high up with a view of the
skyline. It was tidy, and I could see the edge of a flat screen TV. Looked
like the cunt had some money anyway. A decent start. Under the desk, I idly
kicked my fagmaid in the head as I changed feet for it to clean and leaned
back further, letting the towel slip slightly down my waist, and making my
6-pack more visible. The maid muffled a thank you as it got to work.
      "Why THE FUCK should I waste MY time on a low life piece of shit like
you then?" I said to the head on the screen.
      "Oh I can serve you really well SIR," the head said eagerly. "I've
got a good job running my own business and always needed to serve a young
dom lad, SIR, but never really admitted it to myself until I joined
Cashlads, SIR and saw your profile. That's when I knew you were the one I
needed to serve and obey and worship SIR. I want to be like those walking
wallets in your photos SIR, especially the one in the car park at night
with the fag on it's knees holding up it's wallet and you just standing
there laughing with the baseball bat in your hand.  I just want to be in
your presence and give everything to you and worship you SIR. I've got my
own place and I'm loaded SIR. I look at your pictures on cashlads all the
time SIR. I want to serve You SIR. I NEED to serve YOU SIR. Please SIR,
tell me where you are and I can come over there straight away to please you
SIR. I was born to serve you SIR." The pathetic shit was gabbling now,
desperately wanting me, like so many other scumbags. This was going to be
so fucking easy.

      I looked down at my fagmaid still dutifully cleaning my feet with
it's tongue. "Get the fuck up and go bring me my fukking leather." The fat
slob clumsily hauled itself out from under the desk as I rolled the chair
slightly out of the way. At least the slob was clean now. Fucking
disgusting piece of queer shit. It had half stood up in front of the cam
until it caught my eye and quickly dropped to its knees, muttering an
apology before crawling off like a fat rubber slug.

      "Who was that SIR?" walletbitch asked, leaning more closely into the
lens to get a better look as the slug shuffled off.
      "Just a cunt I'm using in my room. It's my fagmaid."
      "The first of many I'm sure SIR" came the snivelling, puerile reply.
      "Yer fag, too fuckin' right. What job do you do fukka?"
      "I run my own IT consultancy business SIR."
      "That your own place is it fag?"
      "Yes SIR. I own this flat plus my house in the country and a weekend
place on the coast." The fag sounded a little too smug listing off how
fucking loaded it was. I'd soon fucking smack the bitch into shape.

      The slug returned on it's hands and knees with my leather jacket
draped across it's back. "Didn't want it dragging on the floor Sir," it
mumbled as I lifted it up, still impressed by the weight and feel of it.
      "Good little faggot. Go get me more booze," and I handed it my empty
tumbler. The slug shuffled off again.
      "Nice jacket Sir," wallet bitch said, as I reached inside and drew
out the wad of notes. His eyes widened as I casually fanned out the 10's
and 20's, revealing just how much I had.
      "Still think you're worth my time fukka?" I said as I fanned the cash
further. "This is what I want. This is what I fuckin DESERVE you cock
suckin' piece of worthless SHIT!" My tone was low and deadly as I looked
over the fan of cash at walletbitch on it's knees, it's mouth a perfect
Ôoh' of surprise. "Still think u can satisfy ME, ya smug CUNT?" I
snarled. The image on the screen gave a little whimper. "THIS," I stroked
the cash, "Is the only fuckin' thing that turns ME on cocksucker. Not you,
or ya fucking top job, or ya fucking 3 fucking houses in
shit-knows-where. THIS." I waved the fan at the screen. "Fucking cold,
hard, fucking CASH. I deserve it, gayboi, coz I am a fuckin GOD compared to
a shit-eating piece of arse-licking trash like you. I cashrape fuckin
faggots like you every fucking day, coz you spinless scum KNOW I am better
in every fucking way to an arse-eating nancy like you, and I deserve
tribute and acknowledgement of MY fucking superiority."

      Ripping open the towel, to expose my rock hard 9 inches, I curled the
cash around my rod, crumpling the wad around the leaking head, as precum
began to ooze. The walletbitch gasped and it's shoulder moved as it's hand
went to it's cock.
      "Leave that fuckin pencil dick alone queer," I snarled through
gritted teeth, getting into the rhythm of my cashwank, precum leaking into
the cash, my fist full of notes stroking up and down my hard abs, as I
worked my cock into a frenzy. "That fucking hand should be fucking clicking
on Ôsend'.  Paypal now fucker. Prove your loyalty. Prove you're fuckin
worth my time you fucking CUNT!" I was gasping now as I crept towards
completion, some of cash working free from my grasp to lie on my chest,
legs and abs. most of it stuck there with my ample precum! The onscreen
walletbitch licked his lips and frantically scrabbled for it's keyboard and
mouse, it's eyes never leaving it's god, staring hypnotised by the frenzied
cashwank it was privileged to witness. "Tribute to your fucking GOD you
worthless fucking walletbitch!" I snarled, totally caught up in the feel of
the fucking money around my sensitive helmet. "If you want to serve ME
properly fucking show ME. NOW!" There was no fucking stopping now as my
fist worked more frenziedly.
      "Sir, yes sir," walletbitch squealed, caught in the moment of desire
and lust after the cocky young stud it so desperately wanted to be near. It
clicked it's mouse.
      "Again fucker." I growled, "I deserve all your fucking fagcash. Be my
FUCKING walletbitch!"
      "Yessir!" Click.
      "Again fucker." Fuck I was close.
      "Yessir!" Click.
      "Again you fucking walletbitch!." My hand worked to a fury as notes
flew everywhere. My body tensed.
      "Yessir!" Click.
      "Again FUCKER." My voice rose as I growled through gritted teeth.
      Click.
      "MORE YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!"
      Click.
      Click.
      Click.
      Click.
      The cunt's other arm as working furiously beneath it's desk but I was
past caring. My own fist gave a final few strokes as my body tensed and
arched in the leather chair, and I finally shot my creamy boi jizz into the
remaining wad of cash and over my smooth, cash covered abs, chest and the
chair. The cunt onscreen wordlessly cried out as it's furiously working arm
suddenly stopped and it's body suddenly tensed, then relaxed.

      I lay on the chair, spent, as my fagmaid rose up next to me with a
tumbler of scotch in its' hand. I grabbed it and took a slow sip, relishing
the post- wank euphoria. I glanced across at it, noting the look of awe and
fear in it's little piggy eyes. "Lick it all up fucktard," I said. "I want
every fucking note clean."
      The cunt's eyes widened with desire. "Yes, Sir. Thank you Sir." It
whispered, and it fell back on all fours, licking the sticky, cum filled
pile I had let drop to the floor. My eyes narrowed as I looked at the
screen at walletbitch, it's eyes wide once again as it watched fagmaid drop
to the floor.
      "As for you, you fucking disobedient cunt," I said as the queer
lowered it's head in shame, "You will meet me at 7.00 tonight to tribute
more of your fucking disgusting fagcash in person, and to apologise for
touching your fucking excuse for a dick in my presence AND wanking without
my permission. You fucking disgust me walletbitch."
      The head onscreen looked shocked , grateful and scared all at the
same time as it raised it's head. "Yes Sir. I apologise Sir. I will make it
up to you Sir."
      "Yes fucker, you will." I grinned evilly as I gave the cunt the
address of the meeting place. "You will be smartly dressed, suited and
booted, and your wallet will be fucking fat," I continued. "You will stand
in the doorway and look for me, and when you see me, you will put your
fucking wallet in your mouth and humbly approach my table."
      "Through all the other people Sir?" the cunt queried, it's voice
quavering.
      "Just be fucking thankful that I don't make you do it on your fucking
knees you fucking queer." I sneered. "Consider it the start of your
punishment, faggot. And a test of how desperately you really want to serve
me."
      "Oh I do Sir, I do." The cunt was virtually grovelling.
      "Then you're gonna have to fucking prove it walletbitch. Don't
fucking disappoint me."
      "No Sir. I won't Sir. I'll be there."
      "Yer, CUNT you fucking will. You may now piss off."
      "Yes Sir. Is there any chance your maid could save a couple of those
notes for me to clean Sir, please Sir?" the faggot looked so pathetically
needy and eager, I almost felt sorry for it.
      "We'll see fag. Fuck off." I said, and broke the connection. Smiling
to myself I turned in the chair to watch fagmaid eagerly and tenderly
cleaning each 10 and 20 with it's tongue. I grabbed a couple of clean ones
and idly used them to mop up the cum on my abs and chest. My grin got wider
as I put them on the desk and took another slug of scotch. What the stupid
fucking walletbitch didn't realise was that I had also arranged to meet the
skinhead lad at exactly the same time and place. This was going to be even
more fun than I had originally planned.
      Fuck! It was really fucking good to be me!


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