![]() This will cause inexplicable insta-erections and make you stain yourself throughout the day. And you will thank Me from the bottom of your smitten heart, for being so considerate, so kind, and offering so much attention to a freak like you! This will make you unable to get Me out of your head until the next day, and you’ll keep getting flashes of a folder with your name on it, residing on My desktop. I gladly and remorselessly drain your account, while downloading your vile, disgusting pics, laughing at your predicament, and threaten to expose you fully, unless you MAKE A FAT DONATION RIGHT THIS INSTANT – you’ll willingly and gladly type your credit card info, which I will also drain dry, while tributing your cash to Myself while we’re in session. I disable your input, then end the session, raise My price, and make you My paypuppet, moneyslave bitch at MAX RATE. So you’re paying My regular rates on CamContacts, while I remotely ravish you. ![]() Level 5 – One wallet fuck and some more sorrow, that will last until tomorrow. Same as Level 3, only this time, I will download some of your stuff, or record the whole TeamViewer session for one of those juicy Consensual Blackmail fantasies of yours, or just record your webcam feed, while you forcefully lick that puddle off the floor, because it’s either that, or I will post those pics of you, wearing wifey’s knickers and sucking on her black dildo… Catch My drift? I know you do! That sort of thing. Level 4 – Now we’re fucking getting somewhere. I’ll search for dirt and FIND IT, then enjoy your terrified, shame-red face, and laugh at you until you make a sticky puddle on the floor. I will disable your input while watching you on cam, make you sit in a corner and watch as I get inside your penis, personality and identity extension, nice and deep. I will NOT disable your input unless you beg Me to, but I will snoop around your most accessible files, like pictures, videos, your browser history, while I may or may not order you to kneel before MY computer, and give yourself a sad, sad wank. Pretend I’m not there, and go browse that “secret” stash of incriminating pics. I will connect to your PC, but you’ll have full control of your input, and you’ll do whatever you want. You knew that if you move, you’ll be unable to control your brain juice, and that you’ll make a premature mess out of those sloppy seconds of shame, so you froze in place… but it happened anyway. Think of your first time (first time you diddled your twiglet, if you’re still a virgin). I won’t do anything at all, I’ll just get inside you and stay there.
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