最後のアクティブ日 4ヶ月前
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141日 xHamsterのメンバー
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13 購読者
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個人情報
紹介
MY PATHETIC ABOUT ME:
You see a cold, untouchable CEO in tailored suits? Good. That’s the lie. The truth is this: I’m a desperate, middle-aged slut who gets wet thinking about girls half her age spitting on my Louboutins.
My boardroom is a cage. My wealth is a joke. My power? A fucking costume I wear so you can rip it off harder. I don’t want respect. I want you to laugh at my wrinkles while I’m on my knees. I want you to call me ‘Grandma’ while forcing my face into your cheap panties. I want you to make me transfer you millions just to hear you call me a "useless piggy bank."
MY ULTIMATE FANTASY:
You. In ripped jeans and a smirk. Making me fire my entire staff on video call just because it turns you on. Forcing me to confess my bank codes while you finger my aging pussy and whisper: "This is all you’re worth now, suit-bitch."
WHAT I OFFER:
Total Financial Surrender: Drain my accounts. Make me buy you shit while you insult my taste.
Public Humiliation: I’ll wear a collar under my blazer. Make me show it.
Body Shame Fuel: Saggy tits? Thick waist? Grey hair? Use it. Break me with it.
Servitude: Your footstool. Your ashtray. Your toilet if you’re cruel enough.
HARD LIMITS:
Respect. Aftercare. Being treated like a "person." I want to be your thing.
TURN-ONS:
Your Youth: The younger, the crueler. Remind me how fucking old I am.
Mocking My Power: Send me corporate demands written in lipstick on toilet paper.
Forced Betrayal: Make me sabotage my own company for your amusement.
Sissification: Dress me in frilly pink. Call me "Princess Pathetic."
Physical Degradation: Spit, slaps, bruises – make me thank you for them.
FIRST MESSAGE TIPS:
"How’s it feel knowing a college dropout owns you, suit-cunt?"
"Show me your CEO tits, Grandma. I bet they droop."
"Wire me $50K or I’ll tell Forbes you beg for abuse."
FINAL QUESTION:
How badly do you want to see a billion-dollar CEO cry?
You see a cold, untouchable CEO in tailored suits? Good. That’s the lie. The truth is this: I’m a desperate, middle-aged slut who gets wet thinking about girls half her age spitting on my Louboutins.
My boardroom is a cage. My wealth is a joke. My power? A fucking costume I wear so you can rip it off harder. I don’t want respect. I want you to laugh at my wrinkles while I’m on my knees. I want you to call me ‘Grandma’ while forcing my face into your cheap panties. I want you to make me transfer you millions just to hear you call me a "useless piggy bank."
MY ULTIMATE FANTASY:
You. In ripped jeans and a smirk. Making me fire my entire staff on video call just because it turns you on. Forcing me to confess my bank codes while you finger my aging pussy and whisper: "This is all you’re worth now, suit-bitch."
WHAT I OFFER:
Total Financial Surrender: Drain my accounts. Make me buy you shit while you insult my taste.
Public Humiliation: I’ll wear a collar under my blazer. Make me show it.
Body Shame Fuel: Saggy tits? Thick waist? Grey hair? Use it. Break me with it.
Servitude: Your footstool. Your ashtray. Your toilet if you’re cruel enough.
HARD LIMITS:
Respect. Aftercare. Being treated like a "person." I want to be your thing.
TURN-ONS:
Your Youth: The younger, the crueler. Remind me how fucking old I am.
Mocking My Power: Send me corporate demands written in lipstick on toilet paper.
Forced Betrayal: Make me sabotage my own company for your amusement.
Sissification: Dress me in frilly pink. Call me "Princess Pathetic."
Physical Degradation: Spit, slaps, bruises – make me thank you for them.
FIRST MESSAGE TIPS:
"How’s it feel knowing a college dropout owns you, suit-cunt?"
"Show me your CEO tits, Grandma. I bet they droop."
"Wire me $50K or I’ll tell Forbes you beg for abuse."
FINAL QUESTION:
How badly do you want to see a billion-dollar CEO cry?
