Visiting My slaves is always a satisfying experience. For the slaves - that goes without saying - but also for ME. A real meet can be the trigger of a lifelong addiction to the domineering sound of My voice, the intoxicating smell of My feet, the warm taste of My piss or whatever puts the freak's reptilian brain under My TOTAL CONTROL. And most of all, I always return home with a NICE STACK in My pockets.

Last Thursday I went to London. As always, the plane tickets and the four-star hotel were fag paid. The lucky homo who invested in this trip was waiting for ME at the arrivals hall. Slaves are always dying to meet ME but, I don't know why, when they finally see ME standing in front of them for the first time, they seem to LITERALLY die of excitement and stress. Anyway, this cunt survived the first close encounter, drove ME to the hotel and paid ME a nice and juicy steak at the hotel restaurant. After I finished My meal, I sent him to his room to wait there like a good cunt for ME to come and use him.

After a short siesta, I went to his room and used him for My entertainment, while emptying his wallet. But the cunt needed more. You have to know that this spank monkey has passed hours and hours watching My video of cashrapes at ATMs. Now he wanted to live that same experience sitting on the first row. He drove ME to an ATM where he gave ME his bank cards. Then he got a little panicky, so I had to popper him up first to disorientate him a bit, anaesthetise his last resistance and make him tell ME the PINs. I admit, when I smell cash, I can be merciless. The cunt got so exhausted by the poppers and the serious damage I did to his bank accounts, I had to drive. Back at the hotel I took a well-deserved rest.

The next day I received a few of My other slaves. One of them had bought a train ticket in advance to get to my hotel easily. But this silly little queer was so excited he didn't want to wait for the train. No. Instead, he jumped in his rust bucket and headed to My hotel. London! Rush-hour! Friday evening! Do I need to say more? Only a bitch in heat does not realise this is the worst moment of the week to drive a car in London. As I expected, he got stuck in traffic and arrived late and was, of course, even more stressed. When he saw ME, the poor faggot could barely speak, shaking and trembling, totally impressed by the sight of his Master. Being a shy slave, he didn't feel ready for a domination session yet so we had a drink and a nice chat at the hotel bar. Like all My slaves, this one knows he always OWES ME. He had been to the bank earlier and he had brought ME a good amount to make My stack of GBP notes grow even more. Easy cash, that's what I like!

On Saturday I had to get up early to catch My plane. The stacks in My pockets made My pants bulge and for a moment I thought the guys at the security control were going to ask ME if I was carrying bricks in My pants. I flew back home as a very satisfied Master, feeling the cash in My pockets and remembering the nice moments I had, even though I wasn't able to meet all of My slaves I have there…

Don’t worry, London, I'll be back!

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