Homewrecked and Hypnotized: From Vanilla to Her Virtual Control

by MajestyNatalie

Tags: #D/s #dom:female #f/m #humiliation #hypnosis #sub:male #bratty_domme #clothing #fantasy #femdom #femdom_hypnosis #financial_domination #findom #hypno #hypnokink #mean_girls #microfiction #scifi #technology_with_hypnosis

Bruce thought he had control over his life, but all it took was one hypnosis video to unravel everything. Obsessed with the alluring domme Majesty Natalie, Bruce’s descent into financial ruin and utter subservience begins. How far will he fall for a woman he’s never met?

Chapter 1

Bruce shrugged off his jacket, stretching to crack his back as he made his way to his computer. He kicked off his pants, his underwear, and threw himself down onto his well-worn seat. He was practically shaking from his need to log onto his favorite porn sites, his cock already throbbing. This was his daily routine, and his body was primed for the masturbation session he was about to indulge in. The next few hours of his life would be consumed by the pretty girls on his screen. He'd eat whatever he could that involved the least amount of time away from his computer, get just enough sleep to be able to work tomorrow, and start the cycle over again the next day.

He stroked himself as he watched his videos, mostly vanilla porn with the same actresses he'd been watching for years. On that particular day, he couldn't seem to find the right video, couldn't seem to get into it. But he couldn't pull himself away from the screen, either. Just stop watching, he told himself, even as he clicked on another video. Just shut it off. He doesn't and two hours of his life slipped away. He realized, as he finally got close to cumming, that he didn't even want to jack off. It had just become a habit. He frowned at the girl on his screen. She was pressing her naked tits together, making her nude, soft flesh spill out of the top of her shirt. She gave the camera a sexy smile, making a face. He came, but his heart wasn't in it. As he wiped the remainder of his cum off his cock and threw away the tissue, he felt the shame setting in.

Bruce was wasting his life on porn. He was obsessed with it, knew intimate details about his favorite actresses' online drama, followed them on X, subscribed to so many Loyalfans accounts he could never keep up with them all. It had started to make him feel numb. He felt disgusting and out of control. His life was porn, and he was spiraling.

I'm a porn addict, he thought. I have a problem. He opened a new tab, grimacing at all his recent searches, at every suggestion. It was all porn. He cleared his browser history, reset his cookies, and deleted all his bookmarks. He was serious about the change this time, he told himself. He googled "porn addiction help" and clicked on the first article, "10 Telltale Signs of Porn Addiction: How Majesty Natalie's Resources Can Help!" He exhaled deeply, proud of himself for starting down this road of recovery. He felt better already. He was going to beat this. He was going to get better.

As he's reading the first lines of the article his screen flashed. He barely noticed, even as it began to fully glitch, the article flashing in and out of view, replaced by a series of photos of a young woman. Bruce's mind was encaptured, his attention drawn to his screen. He couldn't look away. He didn't want to look away. Everything outside of his computer screen was hazy and out of focus. On the screen, the woman smiled at him. She was cute, with a natural makeup look, full lips that smiled sweetly, even as her eyes were dark with something dubious. She had long black hair and was petite, with a tight, juicy ass and small tits. She wore tight, athletic-like clothing that Bruce almost felt he could touch, if he could just reach out and stroke the screen.

He couldn't, though, because he found his hand drawn to his cock. He had started to stroke himself, even without realizing it. He tried to stop, but he couldn't focus on controlling his hand. All he could do was watch the girl on his screen, Natalie, her body, her face. She's so sexy, Bruce couldn't look away. He was enchanted by her, compelled by each little movement she made. She'd wiggle her hips and he'd feel a rush, a real head rush. She'd toss her hair over her shoulder, adjusting her position on her seat, and he'd feel light-headed. She was magnificently gorgeous.

In all of the pictures and videos that flooded and overwhelmed his screen, he never saw her naked. In a way, it made each flash of flesh—her stomach when she wore a sports bra, her legs when she wore shorts, her collarbones peeking out from a loose collar, her thin arms—feel significant. She had a perfect belly, toned and tanned. When she traced her fingers over her skin, Bruce literally shivered.

The virus spread, the computer completely glitching out, but Bruce couldn't stop watching the screen for each and every view of Natalie. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of his mind, he knew his computer had been compromised. But he couldn't make himself care or react. Of all the girls he's ever jacked off to, she was the best. There was just something about her that made all the blood rush to his cock, and he couldn't help but stroke himself aggressively, even as his computer froze and flashed.

"My little click slut," an innocent voice from the speakers said, Natalie's voice. "Loser! Loser! Double loser!" She laughed. Bruce let out a hopeless groan, his mind blank except for her voice and thoughts of her tight little body. An image of her, back to, flashed on the screen. She squeezed her asscheeks together, tensing the muscles there, and all Bruce wanted in the world was to squeeze her body, to touch her himself. He wanted it so badly he couldn't even articulate it in his own head. His mind was a hazy, thick blur of need for Majesty Natalie. He wasn't sure where he was anymore, or even who he was. He was Natalie's click slut, he supposed.

She flashed a bratty grin. She was adorable. "My click slut. Buy my clips more than once. Buy my clip 100 times! Do it now, click slut. I know your mind is gone, but I need you to focus enough to do this for me..."

He felt himself nodding, and, with his free hand, he purchased every clip in her store, 100 times, downloading file after file of his new porn Princess. He opened them, one after another, his hand relentless on his cock, nearly chafing the skin. There was Natalie, showing off her new costumes. Natalie, tiny feet near the screen, wiggling her toes as she talked about her shopping, Natalie, ignoring him, Natalie, touching herself through her clothes, teasing him with her covered pussy, squeezing her small breasts. It was all too much for Bruce. He couldn't focus on anything but the overwhelming attraction he felt for her, the pleasure that coursed through his body as he looked at her tight tan body. Soon, he felt himself tensing, and then he exploded, cumming harder than he had in years, groaning out Natalie's name.

Slowly, he regains enough of his mind to hear Majesty Natalie's words on the video he'd been watching. "You're going to come back to this video over and over." She giggled. "Spend. Send. Do it again." she taunted. "You're going to have to get off to me every hour of every day. You need this." She touched her body, and Bruce nodded at the screen, knowing she was right.

Chapter 2

Bruce had been watching Natalie's videos for months. He'd seen them all. He'd paid extra to see them earlier than her other followers. He knew it was a problem, but he couldn't stop. Anytime he'd so much as think of the little Latina his cock would stiffen. Her sexy, condescending cruel voice constantly whispered to him, convincing him to forget whatever plan he'd made and instead take his cock in his hand and jack off to her. He had spent all of his money and started to dip into the joint account with his wife. She'd begun taking notice, questioning him. He knew if he didn't get his addiction under control he'd lose her, he was surprised he hadn't already.

In a last ditch effort to break himself from the spell Majesty Natalie had him under, he unfollowed her on social media. Next, he tried to block her fansite, but found himself drawn in, his hand already stroking his cock as she spoke to him through the screen, telling him he couldn't quit her.

"You can leave," she said, "but you'll be back. You're such a pathetic goontard for me, you can't live without me." She was doing stretches, her toned, muscular body in tight athletic wear that showed off her sexy, petite form. She smiled sweetly at the camera. "The more money you give me, the longer I hold this stretch." With that, she bent over, her tight little ass in the air, the outline of her pussy visible through the stretchy fabric of her yoga pants.

Bruce somehow managed to log out of the page, and he swiftly blocked it before she could pull her back in with her greedy smile. His addiction to Majesty Natalie clips was so bad, he missed when he'd just been a regular porn addict. He wiped his computer clean, clearing her videos from his device, throwing away a harddrive full of them.

He went through the rest of the day feeling like a zombie. He found himself back at his computer more than once, his body going through the motions of opening Natalie's videos before he remembered that he'd deleted them all. His thoughts kept going back to her. He didn't know what he was if he wasn't her...what did she call him? A Gooner. He didn't know what to do if it wasn't to watch her, spend money on her, think about her, jack off to her. He needed to clear his head, distract himself. He knew that he was a porn addict, but surely porn would be better than Natalie, and it would help fill the hole in them that missing her had left.

He searched for the most vanilla content he could find, trying to recapture how he used to feel watching the videos of his favorite porn stars. He watched couples fucking, big tits bouncing, models moaning sexily. It hardly had any effect on him at all. He scrolled through endless videos, and the only ones that gave him a fraction of satisfaction were ones that reminded him of Natalie, girls with small breasts and toned stomachs, porn princesses with pigtails and tan skin. But even they couldn't get his cock hard.

After hours of searching, Bruce began to feel helpless. He realized he was Natalie's completely. She had broken him, or maybe he had already been broken, and she had only broken him further. He couldn't get off to anything normal. He wasn't normal. He couldn't have sex with his wife. He couldn't jack off to nudity. It was only Natalie for him, forever. His shame swelled inside him and finally, his cock started to stiffen. Tears collected in his eyes as he realized he was growing hard from his own shame, since it reminded him of Majesty Natalie and the way she made him feel.

As the realization hit him, his tears fell, dripping onto his cock. He was completely reliant on Natalie to cum, to get hard, even to feel arousal. His whole world was her, and he was helpless to stop it. He found himself unblocking her, even as his tears streaked down his cheeks. He'd have to resubscribe, he realized. He'd have to download all the videos he'd taken months to find and purchase. It was going to cost all of his money, and his wife's money, too. She was going to divorce him, she'd have no choice.

He found some of his favorite videos first, and downloaded them all. He opened the first one that loaded, a short clip of Natalie showing off her outfit while she sat on her bed. She shot the video on her phone, holding it above her head as she smiled into the camera. He started to jack off before the video even loaded, his body tense and ready, his mind finally relaxing into its familiar pattern. He felt like a drug addict who'd just been given a pill, the effects of it impacting him even before he'd swallowed it.

"Hi loser!" she said. "Look at my outfit today." She moved the camera down to show off her crop top, a sheer white shirt with pink sleeves, her cute belly exposed below the shirt. Her nipples were visible through the fabric, and she rubbed her tits as she gave a little fake moan, making fun of him while she did it. He gripped his cock harder, stroking himself relentlessly. His orgasm was building stronger and faster than he was used to. She switched the view of the camera so the only thing he could see were her legs. She moved her thighs together, soft skin rubbing against soft skin, then angled the camera to show only her lower legs.

He would have emptied his bank account just to be able to lick the sole of her shoe, and she knew it. She wore bright white socks that contrasted beautifully with her tanned skin. Her sneakers were also white, and she wiggled her feet, turning her feet inward so her toes touched.

Bruce gave a mighty groan, knowing that this was all she had to do to control him completely, to make him cum, to make himself give up his life in the pursuit of one more orgasm watching her. He was obsessed with every part of her, every hair on her head to the bottom of her feet. He came, harder than he ever had before, his shame and pleasure building and exploding in unison. He was Majesty Natalie's.

Chapter 3

Bruce had just gotten off the phone with his ex-wife. He'd had to beg her for money, which he desperately needed to buy a used pair of Natalie's socks. She promised they still smelt from when she had peeled them off her petite feet at the gym, and Bruce needed them. He knew, from months and months of watching her videos, that it was his purpose in life to spend money on Majesty Natalie. He existed to fund and, occasionally, amuse her. He knew she was better than him, that his life was worth a fraction of hers, that he was inadequate in all ways. To him she was literally a Goddess. He worshiped her entirely.

Owning a pair of her socks would have been like owning prayer beads, ones he could put his pathetic nose to and inhale the scent of her. Even the stink of her feet would have been too good for him, he knew. He'd drained his bank account, and his ex-wife was unwilling to give him money, no matter what excuse he could come up with for needing it. Instead, he pulled out another credit card that would soon be maxed out, purchasing the socks obediently. Natalie had wanted him to do it, so he'd done it. She'd taught him that he was good for nothing, just a stupid goon slut that meant nothing to her.

Just as he was about to put the purchase through, he got a message from Natalie. Her phone lines were on! He'd been working up the courage to call her since he'd stumbled on her videos, but he knew he wasn't good enough to have her sweet voice talking directly to him. He knew he'd make a fool of himself. Plus, it was expensive, nearly ten dollars per minute. But the card he was using was already going to be shut down by the end of the week, and Natalie already thought he was pathetic and a loser. He bought her used socks, and still half hard from the thrill of the purchase, he decided to call her. Hands shaking, he dialed her femdom phone line.

"Hello little simp," Natalie's voice was cruel and high, her inflection bratty and indifferent. Desire coursed through Bruce. Hearing her speak to him was almost enough to make him lightheaded, in part from all the blood that rushed to his cock in an instant.

"Natalie," he breathed, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Goddess Natalie to you," she said, already sounding bored of the conversation.

"I just bought your socks," Bruce said. "I can't wait for them to arrive, Goddess Natalie."

"I'll be you can't, bitch. I bet it's the best thing to happen in your sad life in a while, am I right?"

"Yes, Natalie, you're right," Bruce hurried to say. "I hope they still smell like you."

Natalie made a non-committal noise of agreement, barely listening to Bruce. He could hear her TV, loud in the background. It was clear paying attention to Bruce was the last of the things Natalie planned to do. The disregard stung, and made Bruce's cock ache.

"I bought your panties awhile back and—"

"Are you touching yourself right now, loser?" Natalie cut in, clearly not having been listening to him at all. "Sorry," she added, not sounding sorry in the slightest. "I'm shopping for new shoes right now. Should I get the white ones with the pink accents or red ones? Which one are you buying for me, you loser wallet?"

"Whichever one you want, Goddess. And yes, I'm touching myself. I can't help but stroke my cock when I think of you."

Natalie giggled. "Yeah, I bet you can't. I'll send you a link to the sneakers, you can buy me both. I'm size five." Bruce groaned, thinking about her tiny feet in shoes that he himself had bought. "Slow down the movements of your hands. You should have waited for me to tell you you could jerk off. You're so disgusting and pathetic. No wonder you're such a loser loner. Get on your knees. I want them bruised for me."

Bruce lowered himself to the ground and stroked himself slower. "Yes, Goddess, you're right. I'm sorry Natalie."

"If you were here I'd make you kiss my toes. But thank god you're not, you'd make my room smell like desperation. You literally probably stink, all alone in your sweaty nasty goon cave." There was a long pause where Natalie scrolled, shopping for something else, barely hearing Bruce's heavy breathing on the other end of the phone. He kept stroking himself slowly. "Oh, are you still here?" She asked, sounding annoyed. "You really are a miserable gooner, aren't you? I want you to squeeze the base of your tiny cock—is your cock tiny? Just kidding, don't tell me, I'm sure it is—and watch your pre-cum drip out of your cock for me. Now taste it." There was a moment's hesitation before Bruce dipped his fingers in the off-white liquid, and then he brought it to his lips. "I didn't hear a 'yes, Goddess," Majesty Natalie said. "God, you can't even be a simp correctly. You're the most hopeless loser I've ever had talked to. I don't even care if you die. Only if you're leaving your money to me."

His cock twitched and he let out a groan. He tasted his own cum in his mouth while he listened to her humiliate him. She was so cruel. His knees hurt. He'd never felt so pathetic, or so turned on. The meaner she got to him the more his cock ache and wanted more.

"Have you started to stroke yourself again? You better not have," she said, sounding more distracted than annoyed. He wasn't worth even half her attention, and she wasn't scared to show him that. "I guess you can just run one finger up and down the length of your gross goon stick. Slowly."

"Yes, Majesty Natalie." Even that sensation drove Bruce mad, he ran his finger up and down his cock, listening to the silence of her ignoring him, wasting his money and his time like he was no more than a piece of trash.

"Okay," Natalie said, finally. "Spit on your hand and stroke yourself fast, as fast as your slow brain can manage. I'm gonna give you a cum countdown."

Bruce whimpered. This was too much to handle. His cock was leaking for her.


Bruce groaned. His ex-wife could never make him feel this.

"...4...3...2...1...Cum for me loser, okay?" Natalie said, distracted by her online shopping.

Instantly Bruce spit on his hand, jacking off as fast as he could, fast enough that it made him breathless. "Majesty Natalie, could you—" he was about to ask her to say his name, or even just make a noise, anything for him to get off to, but instead she hung up, and he came to the click of the phone and the knowledge that he was so insignificant to her that she didn't care if he came or didn't. As long as she'd gotten his money, as long as he knew he was hers. He came hard, a sob wrecking his body. Pleasure so great it was overwhelming flooded through him as he came, on his knees, with a dead phone line against his ear.

He had no regrets.

Chapter 4

"Hello stupid goon," Majesty Natalie said as the video finally loaded. Bruce had spent so much money on this one, as he had for all of her videos. She had recently increased the cost, but it didn't stop him. He'd do anything for even a glimpse of his porn princess. As soon as he clicked play, a file started to download onto his device, and then another. It was always happening with Natalie's videos, sometimes freezing his screen, sometimes bugging his computer down with so many viruses he'd have to buy a brand new one the next day.

In the new video, Natalie's hair was down, cascading over her narrow shoulders. She was wearing a bikini that exposed most of her little body, her perfectly shaped belly, her tanned upper thighs. The rest legs were covered in thigh-high socks in a light pink that matched the striped bikini. When she leaned forward, Bruce could almost see her nipples from under the bikini. Almost, but not quite, like she didn't think he deserved to see them, and she probably didn't. Her clip featured a pink spiral, turning and twisting and making Bruce's mind feel groggy.

He always felt transfixed watching Natalie's videos, and the power of this one had his brain turning to mush. Even if he had tried to shut the video off, tried to get clean from his overwhelming porn addiction—his addiction to Natalie, in particular—the background pulled him in, kept him hooked. Natalie herself, too, had him feeling like a porn zombie, only able to focus on the way her—the way she moved, the sound of her voice—as she started to talk to him.

"How is my idiot cum slut today?" She asked. Bruce felt his stomach twist, thinking about just how literal that term had become for him. Ever since Natalie had made him eat his own cum, he hadn't been able to get over the humiliation of it. But more than that, he couldn't get over just how much it had turned him on. "Oh wait! I don't care. You're just a human wallet to me. I could care less about your well being. As long as you are able to give me money."

Suddenly, the screen split and a second video loaded. The change caused a fresh wave of glitching on his computer, and for a moment, Bruce panicked. Not about the unequivocal damage that was being done to his computer, but over the possibility that he might lose sight of Natalie. Luckily, she stayed on one of the screens.

"Take your dick out, pathetic simp," Majesty Natalie instructed, and Bruce complied quickly. The second screen had a white background, and right up close to the camera were Natalie's small hands, gripping a large, realistic looking dildo. In the first screen, she leaned close to the camera, so her perfect face was in the shot. Her big brown eyes made her look innocent, even as her full lips smirked judgmentally, and she wrinkled her nose.

"Are you matching my pace, dummy?" She was slowly stroking the dildo. "I want you to go nice and slow, but that shouldn't be hard for you, should it? Stupid gooner, I'm surprised you can manage anything other than jerking off with how rotted out your porn brain is. You only really think about me, don't you?" Bruce nodded, feeling his shame bubbling inside him.

"You live to jerk off to me. I am your Goddess, and you worship everything about me. You're pathetic, a loser, nothing without the direction I give you. Your own purpose is to be my simp, to kiss the ground I walk on, to give me all your money. Isn't that right, loser?" Bruce nodded, feeling the pressure of tears behind his eyes. It was humiliating to know everything she said was true. His life was only worth what he could give to Natalie.

And Natalie was so sexy. In one frame, she was gently touching her body. She traced her hands over the parts of her Bruce ached to touch, but knew he didn't deserve. She ran her hands through her hair, twirling a lock around her fingers. She touched her inner thigh, shivering just a little at her own touch, then dragged her fingers slowly across her stomach. Next, she took her small breasts in her hands, massaging them through the fabric of her bikini. Bruce could barely breathe watching her. All the while, she kept a painfully slow pace on the dildo in the other frame. Bruce felt his arousal rising, he needed to cum, and he needed to taste his salty, pitiful cum again. Just to hear her laugh.

"Don't you even think about cumming until I've told you to," Majesty Natalie scolded, her hand on the dildo stopping. "You're my stupid little simp, and you'll cum when I tell you to cum." She started to move her hand again, and Bruce bucked, his body twitching with the need to cum. He couldn't believe how tight of a leash Natalie had him on. He felt impossibly ashamed. He felt small, helpless, deplorable, totally and utterly controlled. And part of him liked it. Part of him grew more and more at ease the more he gave himself over to his porn Goddess.
"Okay," Natalie said, the frame with her body showing her touching herself through her bikini bottoms, her finger drawing small circles. "Cum for me, stupid fucking idiot."

Bruce didn't need to be told twice, cumming into his palm with a grunt. Hesitantly, shamefully, he raised his palm to his lips, shuttering as he started to lap up his cum. He shivered, full of shame and regret as he tasted himself, knowing he was so far beyond help, so immersed in his princess's world.
Just then, his phone rang. He was surprised to see that it was his ex wife. He steadied his breath and picked up. They exchanged pleasantries for a moment, Bruce feeling awful about the fact that his limp dick was still in his lap, and then she cleared her throat.

"I guess I'm calling because I miss you." His ex wife said, and Bruce couldn't believe his ears. "I'm offering you a second chance. I know you have a problem. But I want us to work."
"I do too," Bruce hurried to say. "I'll do whatever I need to to make this work, I promise." He meant it. He was going to quit Natalie, to overcome his porn addiction. He was tired of his femdom addiction. He wanted his wife back, wanted his life back. He unplugged his computer, carrying the entire thing to the trash. He scrolled to all of Natalie's accounts on his phone, blocking one after another, deleting everything he'd downloaded. He felt good. He'd never been able to get this far with Natalie before, always becoming distracted by her cutesy smile and the temptation to allow her to tell him just how worthless he knew he was. But this time was different.

He was fairly sure he'd deleted it all, and he sat back, sighing. He was ashamed of his addiction, and had let it get too far. This was the fresh start he needed, for him and his wife.
His phone chimed. It was an email from Majesty Natalie's mailing list.
New Video! Click here if you're a submissive simp!
Bruce's thumb hovered over the link...

Chapter 5

Bruce was proud of himself for his progress. Did he frequently unblock Natalie and spend an outrageous amount of money to get back the content he had deleted when he tried to quit? Yes. But he would delete it all back again, and he was getting better, going days without getting off to Natalie (which, unfortunately for him, meant days of not getting off at all). He was showing improvement.

So when he got a notification from Majesty Natalie's mailing list advertising a way to quit, he thought it might just be the perfect thing for him. There might have been a voice at the back of his head reminding him that he had stumbled upon Natalie herself the first time he tried to get over his addiction to porn, back when he had been an almost normal person, not Natalie's simp. He pushed away all his worries, opening the email.

"Goonblocker", the email read, "Is my new program to help pathetic gooners like yourself finally quit porn for good. Watch all my clips and content, but censored! Start downloading here." The image attached to the email was Majesty Natalie, her hair done up in two braids along either side of her head, her petite chest covered by the words "Goonblocker", her toned, tan stomach visible.

Censored? Pixelated? Bruce didn't want that at all. It went against all his natural desires. But he knew Natalie. She was smarter than him. She deserved his money, so she'd get as much of it as he could give, and that included re-downloading all of her videos with the Goonblocker censoring her body. His cock throbbed as he downloaded video after video, excited to watch them and help cure himself of porn addiction at last.

"New videos to come," The second paragraph of the email had promised. God, he couldn't wait.

Bruce spent the afternoon watching all of the clips she had censored, waiting for his email to let him know when she uploaded a new one. He had made plans with his wife, but he canceled them, not wanting to miss out on the new pixelated video.

"Hello dumb gooner," Natalie said as soon as Bruce pulled the video up. She was wearing tiny, soft looking white shorts and a matching top, her nipples pressing through the soft fabric. It took Bruce a moment to realize she wasn't censored, he was so distracted by the expanse of her light brown skin. His cock ached. "So, you've realized you're not worthy enough to look at my body. Took you long enough." The pixels started to cover her shorts, her top. He could just make out the white color through the pixelation.

Bruce is ashamed to realize he's just as horny at her pixelated body as he was when he could see her, but he can't stop the video now. Her words just make him feel more humiliated, but that only makes him want to give her more. He pulled up her site, sending her a tribute. Pre-cum leaked from his cock. Try as he might, spending money on Majesty Natalie, his Goddess, made him hard.

"You're probably touching yourself just imagining my ass, aren't you, degenerate loser?" Natalie said in her bratty voice. She turned around to show her pixelated ass. "God, that's sad." The pixelation bubble grew, covering her stomach and upper thighs. Bruce's hand stroked his cock, even as he felt a sob bubble up in his throat. The pixelation spread further, covering Natalie's entire body except her sneaker-clad feet.

"You don't deserve to see my face," Natalie said. "Say it outloud you gooner simp. 'I don't deserve to see your face'. I know it makes you so horny to know you're worthless to me. Except as a human wallet, right?"

"I don't deserve to see your face," Bruce said, "I don't deserve you, Natalie."

"While you're thinking about how much of a miserable porn addict you are, why not send me some more money? Don't I deserve it for making these videos beta-safe for you? You should pay twice as much for them. Go ahead, give me twice as much as this video cost." Bruce did, even though he'd just sent her money he gave her more. He'd give her everything if she asked. As soon as the site made the "swoosh" noise that indicated his money was sent he came, Natalie's bratty voice mocking him, reminding him how much of a brainwashed goon he was. He'd get off to just her feet, the only part of her he deserved.

Bruce canceled his plans for the rest of the week, clearing his schedule to make room for the new censored Goonblocker videos. He watched them religiously, even though he knew he had fallen back into his addiction. He'd fallen harder this time, too. But this felt right. Of course he wasn't good enough to see Natalie's body, not even her panties.

"Look at my new panties," Natalie said in one video,

holding them up to the camera. Bruce could only make out the color through the pixelation: bright pink. "Oh wait, you're too stupid and pathetic to see them. I'm going to try them on." The video cut to her wearing them, or, Bruce assumed it was them. He could make out the shiny material through the blur, and she moved her handheld camera over her body, showing a close up between her legs. Bruce leaned into his screen, desperate for even a glimpse of her clothed pussy, but all he got was the pixelation. "Do you like them?" Natalie said, laughing. She wiggled her legs, grinding back into the bed. God, Bruce wished he was worthy enough to see her. But the fact that he wasn't fueled him, and he sent more money to Natalie and jerked himself off as she mocked him. He came to her touching herself through her panties, her small hand just a blur against the pixelated fabric.

He deserved this. Denial. Humiliation. Censored porn. Majesty Natalie was making him see the truth of his so called manhood. She was teaching him about his own sexuality. She knew more about him than he knew about himself. He could see that she was, as always, right about everything.

He bought and loaded up the next Goonblocker clip...

Chapter 6

Bruce had been watching Natalie's videos for days. She had recently started dropping content in the mornings instead of the evenings, and it was positively killing Bruce to have to wait until his work day was up so he could come home and watch her videos.

He felt like a failure. He couldn't focus at work, even less so than normal, and he couldn't even prioritize Natalie the way he knew she deserved to be worshiped. All the subliminal teachings she'd given him over the time he'd spent watching her videos told him he should be doing more to support his porn princess. And yet, if he quit his job he wouldn't be able to pay for her content. He wanted, more than anything, to have a work from home job that would allow him to have work on one monitor and Majesty Natalie on the other, but he didn't have the skillset.

He'd tried to watch Natalie's videos on his lunch break, but they were just a bit too long, and he'd have to make excuses to stay on his break longer. He was still watching the pixelated Goonblocker clips, knowing that he wasn't worthy of watching uncensored videos of her. He didn't deserve to see her skin, her tiny body, her pretty clothes. He should be grateful he's even allowed to listen to her bratty voice. And he was. He was so grateful.

He took his break a few minutes early, trying his best to not draw attention to the fact that he was slipping out before it was time. He sneakily locked himself in his car and played Natalie's new YouTube video. It was a Goonblocker clip, but she uploaded it free to her channel.

"Good morning gooner," Majesty Natalie said, sounding cute and bored. She was wearing a white crop top and pink yoga pants, and her tits were centered, so Bruce couldn't tell if she was wearing a bra under it or not. If he knew Natalie, probably not. His gooner cock ached at the thought. "I went on a shopping spree with some of the money I've been sent lately—which means I mean more, in case you're too stupid to get the hint—and I wanted to show you my haul."

Natalie began pulling clothes from bags, holding them up, making Bruce imagine them on her body—shiny skimpy bikinis and crop top sweaters, tight athletic wear and grey sweatpants. She had bought three different pairs of bleach white sneakers, size five, and some gold jewelry. Everything was designer, one tiny bikini top probably more expensive than everything Bruce owned put together. He had helped fund that. He felt a confusing rush of pride, purpose and shame. Pride that he had been able to fund Natalie's shopping spree, shame that he had been draining his and his wife's money for months to be able to do so. But Natalie needed him to be a good cum slut and give her his money. Every time he spent money on her it only made him more ashamed, and even more horny.

"Not only did I go shopping, I had slaves binge my wishlist. One of you bought a sexy toy." Natalie said, pulling out a new bag in front of her. "I've already tried it out." Bruce felt his palms grow sweaty. He had paid extra to buy a toy for her, specifically from him. He had picked it out on her website, wrote a note along with it, and signed it with his real name. Would she acknowledge him in this video? He didn't know if he was worthy of it, and yet he still ached for her bratty voice to say his name. She held up the first item, sent to her from someone else, but it was pixelated. He had almost forgot this was a Goonblocker clip. "First, someone got me this fox tail butt plug. It's silicone, soft, and small. It was fine. I looked adorable in it. But like. You literally only exist to spend money on me and you bought the cheapest thing possible? God, that's annoying. I expect you to make up for it. As punishment, the bitch who bought this butt plug has to wear a butt plug into the office today. I know who you are. You know who you are." She smirked, knowing her submissive would obey her every command, no matter how humiliating.

Bruce was glad he hadn't bought the fox tail butt plug, even though he'd considered it. It would have been the smart thing to do financially, but Majesty Natalie deserved more. "Okay, next I have something really special from someone really special." Natalie turned and looked at the camera, rolling her eyes. "Just kidding, I have a new bikini from someone who sent me their credit card info." She held it up, but the blur made it appear to be only a shiny, maybe PVC blob. "I only care about your money." Bruce knew it was only a YouTube video, yet he still felt the insult. It twisted his gut and made his cock throb. And it was throbbing.

Bruce's phone chimed. His boss, wondering where he was. He shot her back a message saying he was on his way and stuck his headphones in, listening to Natalie's voice and glancing at the screen as he made his way back.

"By the way," Natalie was saying, "If your cock is any smaller than this I feel bad for you. Or, I would feel bad about you, if I cared about you at all. My next wishlist gift was bought to me by a gooner so stupid he probably thought he was special for sending me a little pathetic love note with it. Well, Bruce, here's my reply: Dear human wallet, I do not care about you, send me more money, XOXO, Majesty Natalie."

Bruce had ducked into the bathroom, heart pounding, and made his way over to a toilet seat. He was transfixed, stuck to his screen like Natalie was running a hypnosis video. But she wasn't, it was just the sound of her voice, saying his name. He couldn't stop himself, pulling his cock out and stroking himself, as hard and fast as he could.

"This horny little gooner bought me a pair of high heels! Look, they're red bottoms!" The shoes themselves were pixilated, but Bruce could hear them clacking together as she teased him. "Too bad I don't like high heels. I'm a sneaker girl. I'm going to throw them away." She did just that, right into the trash, and then she turned back to the camera. "Are you touching yourself gooner? Are you thinking about all the money you've spent on me, all the money you're going to spend to make up for your mistakes here? You need to spend more. You need to get me what I really want."

The screen started to pixelate, until Natalie was just a shape, a small, censored, feminine outline. She angled the camera to her feet which came into sharp focus. She wore bright white sneakers which she knocked together playfully. Bruce jerked off to her voice and those shoes, nodding along as she insulted him, already planning to tribute more of his money as soon as his hands were free. He rose to his feet and came hard into the toilet, letting out a long, heavy moan in the shape of Natalie's name.

"Bruce?" Bruce hadn't heard the door open—he must have forgotten to lock it—but he heard it swing shut. He glanced over the top of the stall and saw his boss, Sarah, looking hesitant. "What are you doing? You were supposed to be back at your desk ten minutes ago."

"Sorry, I um, I had to use the bathroom."

"The women's bathroom? Bruce, something isn't right here. I'm going to have to ask you to stay after today and meet with me, okay?"

"Okay, fine," Bruce said, tucking his cock back into his pants. By the time he left the stall his boss was gone and he was alone again. He played the rest of Natalie's video, even though he didn't want to. He'd never felt so embarrassed. He bought Natalie another pair of shoes, this time a pair of pink Nikes, but it hardly made him feel better.

His post nut clarity was hitting. He was in trouble with his boss. And his personal life was in shambles.

Natalie was going to ruin him.

Chapter 7

Bruce's wife wasn't home when he got back from work on Friday night, but she had left the mail on the table for him to see, envelope after envelope addressed to him, most of them with "FINAL WARNING" in dark red ink stamped across the front. His wife had left a note across the top: "Deal with this." He grabbed them all and brought them back to his computer room, tossing them in front of his monitor.

It was humiliating how bad his problem had gotten. He was in so much debt he was sure he'd never recover. He'd taken out credit cards, opened accounts in sketchier and sketchier to take out loans. There was a lien on his house, and the repo guys would be coming for his car any day now. He had dragged his wife back in with him, too. When they'd remarried he'd convinced her to give him access to her accounts, and he'd been slowly draining them. And for what? Why? Because Natalie said so, and Bruce was completely under her control. He had to spend money on her, even when he had no money, because Natalie told him he should.

He knew it was stupid. He knew it made him pathetic. He was completely and utterly shamed by it. But that only turned him on. Natalie had, slowly but surely, convinced him that it was his life's purpose to give away all his money to her. If he was being fully and completely honest with himself, the only reason he cared whether he went bankrupt or not was because if he ended up homeless on the streets he wouldn't be able to afford Majesty Natalie clips.

He pushed the mail aside. He would deal with them, he would. But first he needed to watch one of Natalie's videos. It would help him to relax, get him in the right mindset to deal with his financial issues. He pulled his cock out, soft and small. He used to think he had a good cock, above average size, but Natalie had shown him the truth, that it was small and ugly. She was so much smarter than him.

As soon as he pulled up her video his cock stiffened, coming to life in his hand. It was an older video, one he had watched a few times before.

"Hello paypig." Natalie said. She was wearing skimpy clothes, the top just barely wide enough to cover her nipples, the bottom a pink thong that only excited Bruce more. Her face was pixelated. "I decided betas like you don't deserve to look at me today," she said, running a hand down her toned stomach. "Losers like you don't deserve rights. Isn't that right, paypig?"

"Yes, Natalie," Bruce whispered, nodding.

"I have to tell you a story today," Natalie said, hopping up onto her bed. She piled pillows and blankets below her, straddling the soft pile, her thin, tan legs on either side of the stack. "Once upon a time," she said, starting to grind into the pillow that rested against her bikini-clad pussy. "There was someone who watched my content. He used to call me every day. He'd send me money multiple times a day. He bought me all the clothes that I wanted, every outfit I asked for." Natalie's voice was patronizing and bratty. She abruptly stopped her gyrations, and flashed a loser symbol at the camera. "What was so special about him? Well, nothing, he was a stupid gooner just like any of you. But he did something very very special for me, that your Goddess has never forgotten. Do you want to know what it was, dummy?" Bruce nodded, even though he knew already. "He spent every last penny on me. He went bankrupt. Anytime he'd get even a dollar back, he'd spend it on me. It's sexy to spend money on me," Natalie said, and Bruce nodded. "It's so hot to go broke for your Goddess." Bruce stroked himself at the same speed that Natalie moved her hand. She was making jerk off motions and he did his best to match her pace. "Go, spend more money on me right now."

Bruce pulled up Natalie's page on his other monitor, sending her a gift of 100$. It was declined. He put in another card. Declined. He started to sweat, stressing. He needed to spend money on Natalie, but there was no more money. Finally, he found a card that worked, it was in overdraft, but he'd worry about the fee later. He pulled up all his accounts on the monitor, watching Natalie out of the corner of his eye, listening to her instruct him to send her even more money. He sent her another 20.

His accounts, each in red, each with flashing notification, warning him of his debt, glares at him on one screen. Good. Natalie thinks debt is sexy. He did this for her. He looks at the stack of mail in front of him, glances back to the monitors. Natalie is fake moaning, mocking him and picking up her stroking pace. Bruce grabs the stack of mail, crumbling it in his free hand. His other jerks himself off, hard and fast, until he's cumming, pressing the crumpled mail to his tip, cumming into the stack of it as his monitor glares at him and Majesty Natalie lets out a giggle.

He cums so hard he feels a little light-headed, and he's out of it enough that he doesn't hear his wife until it's nearly too late and she's knocking on his door. He shoves the mail in the trash, closes both monitors, shoves his soft, drained cock in his pants and tells her she can come in. That was close.

Chapter 8

Bruce didn't have the money to call Natalie's the other day, which ruined his entire week. But he'd been paid and finally had enough money to give her a call. He'd even have some money left after the fact that he could spend on his wife, perhaps. He'd been feeling guilty since she nearly caught him jerking off to Natalie once again. He'd lied to her and told her he'd talked to his debtors, that it was all a big misunderstanding, and she seemed to trust him.

She'd snuggled into his arms that night for the first time in a week, and he'd built up his resolve to quit spending money on Natalie. He couldn't quit her, he knew this now, he was her gooner forever. But maybe he could keep his spending in check, balance being Natalie's paypig and being a real human being with a job and wife and life.

"Bruce," Natalie said when he joined the call. Hearing her bratty voice say his name was enough to make his cock throb. "You didn't call last week."

"I didn't have the money—" Bruce started, but Natalie cut him off.

"Um, I don't care. Spending money on me is what you exist to do, right? I thought you liked spending money on me."

"I do," Bruce said, but she wasn't listening to him. "Send me $100, I have something for you."
"For me?" Bruce asked. Natalie had something for him, specifically? His palms started to sweat, his heart pounded. She thought about him? He wasn't worthy. "I'm not worthy—" He began, but she cut him off.

"Just send me the money," she snapped.

"Sent, Princess," he said once he was done. Her bratty voice making him excited.

"Check your email. Oh, and if you're not wearing headphones already, put some on." Bruce's inbox chimed with an email from Natalie. It was a link. He clicked it and the next thing he knew audio was playing, Natalie's voice was layered over binaural beats, light music that seemed to flitter through Bruce's head, lodging right in his brain. Her voice did what it always did to him, turned him on, but the music made him feel lightheaded and sleepy. He wanted to stroke his cock. He rested his head on the desk, playing with himself sleepily as Natalie spoke.

He could barely concentrate, but it seemed his brain was understanding her messages without him. He felt like a horny zombie.

"Gooner," Natalie sneered. "Money, now." A minute later, "Good paypig."

Bruce felt himself sending her another $100. A small puddle of his drool gradually collected, wetting the side of his face. He couldn't move to wipe it away, he needed one hand on his cock, the other on his mouth to give Natalie more of his money. The audio kept going, her words familiar. It was looping, he thought, somewhere in his dreamy brain. "Gooner. Money, now." He clicked away, another 100 gone. "Good paypig." He was a good paypig. He was Natalie's good pay pig. Over and over again the hypnosis audio looped, and Bruce gave her money each time while he played with his cock. He couldn't seem to get off, he was too drowsy, but he could click small small salary away.

Between her demands for money Natalie insulted him, calling him stupid, worthless, pathetic. He agreed. He nodded in a puddle of his own drool, his cock, which belonged to Natalie, aching but unable to get off. "Stupid simp," Natalie said, and then the audio looped again. "Gooner. Money, now."

"Good paypig," She said.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bruce knew that he was nearing the last of his money. As the loop repeated, he hit send again but got an error message. That was it. His money was gone. He wouldn't be taking his wife out this week, though he'd already promised her he would. He wouldn't be paying off any debts. He didn't even know how he'd pay for new clips next week. The shame and defeat built inside him, just as Natalie reminded him that he was a "good paypig," and he came hard.

It took him a minute to come back to his senses, and when he did he checked the time. He had spent an hour in her hypnotic loop, missing out on her live call, but Natalie would still hopefully be online. He hoped back onto the call.

"Natalie," he said. He was still feeling lightheaded. It took him a moment to place the emotions that were overwhelming him. Shock, fear, awe, all mixing together.

"God, why are you interrupting me?" Natalie asked, annoyed. "Why would you possibly think I care what you have to share."

"I'm sorry, Goddess," Bruce said, hanging his head in shame. "It's just. I've just spent my last $100 on you. I was supposed to take my wife out with that money."

Natalie laughed.

Bruce thought he was about to accuse her of hypnotizing him, maybe even beg her for some of his money back, he couldn't. Her laugh, bratty and superior, took away all his doubts. Of course he gave her all his money. She deserved it.

"Am I a good paypig?" Bruce asked, but Natalie only giggled harder.

Chapter 9

Bruce felt so guilty about spending all his money on Natalie and canceling dinner plans with his wife that he decided to make her dinner at home, instead. He didn't tell her the plan, letting himself be overwhelmed by her disappointment when he told her they wouldn't be going out that week. He had expected her to get angry, or maybe sad, but her response was so much worse.

"Okay," she'd said, sighing. She didn't look upset, just disappointed.

"I'll make up for it," he had said, desperate for her to believe him.

"No, you won't," she had replied, and pulled out her phone, ignoring him.

He wanted his home cooked meal to be a surprise, so he left work early, arriving at his house before his wife. He started to cook, ignoring the urge he felt to watch one of Natalie's videos. He wasn't going to do it. Tonight was about his wife, not Natalie. His phone chimed to let him know that Natalie had posted to her fanclub, but he swiped away the notification without opening the app. It would be there later. So will my wife, a voice in the back of his head said, but deep down he knew that wasn't true. He had already lost her once. He wasn't going to let himself lose her again.

"Bruce," she said, surprise evident in her voice as she walked through the door and smelt dinner cooking. "What's this?"

"Surprise!" Bruce said, giving his wife a quick peck before heading back to the food on the stove. "I told you I'd make it up to you for not going out tonight, didn't I?"

"I guess you did, yeah," she was smiling, and Bruce's heart ached as he realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his wife smile at him.

He poured her a glass of wine and instructed her to go dress up. She laughed as she raced upstairs to peel out of her work clothes and put on an evening dress. Bruce finished preparing the meal, and then he, too, put on nicer clothes, seating himself across the table from his wife. He lit a candle.

"Bruce, this is so romantic," she said, honestly sounding impressed.

"Let's hope it's also delicious," he replied, and she laughed.

They shared a perfect evening together, and Bruce was convinced he'd reminded his wife that she loved him. They laughed, they talked, and they didn't argue once. His food was good, the wine was better, and they fell into bed together.

She kneeled on the bed, slowly slipping the straps of her dress off her shoulders, revealing her breasts. She slid the dress off her body, fabric pilling at her knees. She wore lingerie, a pair Bruce had bought her. He kissed his wife, tracing his hands over her body as she helped him out of her clothes, but his stomach had started to churn.

He didn't find her attractive. Her body was so much different than Natalie's petite, tan frame. She looked nothing like his Natalie.

She kept kissing him, her hand running along the outside of his underwear. She grasped his soft cock, stroking it, trying to work life into him. It wouldn't work. Bruce knew it was never going to work. He belonged to porn now, Natalie had ruined him for anyone else, even his wife.

"Bruce," his wife said, "please fuck me."

"I can't," he said, desperate for her to understand. The happiness in her eyes had faded, the angry lines of disappointment reappearing on her face. She looked dissatisfied and frustrated.

"You can't?" she repeated. He shook his head. "That's fucking pathetic, Bruce." She said, "You can barely pay attention to me normally, and the one time you seem to remember I exist you still can't manage to get it up for me. You're worthless to me. You don't provide, you're going to lose your job. You're nearly bankrupt, if you aren't already. You think I don't know but I do. God, I should have stayed away from you. I should fuck someone else. It would probably be better than you ever used to be. I guarantee you I could find someone more attractive, with a bigger dick, and more money, who's better in bed than you were tonight, if I wanted to." She shook her head, the fire draining from her. "Let's just go to bed, then."

Bruce waited until he thought she was asleep, and then he finally, desperately, pulled up one of Natalie's videos. He needed it. He felt like he might die without it. His cock stiffened before he even pulled it up. He was so pathetic. He could only get hard for Natalie, spending money on her, being denied by her, even being ignored by her. Why was Natalie's inattention so much hotter to him than his wife's attention? He didn't know.

He stroked himself to a new video, an ignore fetish clip where Natalie has set her camera up to face the corner of her room. He knows she's there, just off frame, staying out of his sight because he's not good enough for her. He cums fast, letting out a quiet groan before switching off his phone and setting it on the bedside table.

"You're really weird, and disgusting," his wife whispered. "I saw that. I don't know how I ever could have loved you. You're just sad. Really fucking sad. Do you have a wall fetish now? What is wrong with you? Sad."

Chapter 10

Bruce's wife sat him down and laid it all out in black and white. Quit watching weird fetish porn or she would leave. It was a harder choice than he wanted to admit. He was so addicted to being Natalie's human wallet that he struggled to remember his identity outside of lining her pockets and, occasionally, making her laugh at his patheticness. It was embarrassing, but he knew his place in the world, and it was somewhere just below Natalie's size five feet.

But he remembered what it felt like to be more than just someone's submissive, more than just a slave to a porn princess. He remembered loving his wife, feeling satisfied at his job. Majesty Natalie had hypnotized him well, but somewhere deep down he still craved more. So he agreed. He gave his wife his passcodes, sat with her as she went through everything, his bank statements, his credit card debts, and, most embarrassingly, Natalie's fan pages, her emails, the hundreds of files of her videos. His wife saw, and deleted them all.

It worked, too. Bruce felt weird being away from Natalie so long, almost itchy from the feeling of being without her content. But he felt so much better in so many other ways. He still couldn't get hard without thinking of Natalie, but he felt confident that he'd get there in time. He even got a , and told her about his problems. Everything was going well, and Bruce thought that he might just get his life together again after all, in the final hour.

And then he got a message from an unfamiliar number on his new phone (his therapist had recommended a new phone, a clean slate, in case Bruce had backed up any files to his old one. His wife had happily paid for the new one).

Hi Bruce. Call me. XOXO – Majesty Natalie.

He blocked the number, his heart racing. A few minutes later, his phone rang. A new number. He hung up, sending it to voicemail. He told himself to delete the voicemail without listening to it, but he had to know.

"Heyyyy Bruce," Natalie said, her voice bratty and amused. Bruce's cock instantly stiffened. "I've noticed you've been gone lately. Okay that's not really true, I don't care enough about you to know if you're around or not. But I noticed my good little paypig hasn't been paying my bills lately." Bruce's cock twitched at her words, his fingers itching to pull up her website and send her money right away. It was like her words had unlocked something in his brain. "You don't have to keep buying my clips," Natalie said, sounding pouty. "But if you don't, I'm going to release this video of you." A laugh. "Anyway, send me $100 to let me know you got this message, and I'll see you in the DMs of my fanclub this week! Bye!"

The video had come through as Bruce was listening to the voicemail. He clicked on it with dread. There he was, on his knees, bringing his trembling hand to his mouth, licking his own cum off his fingers.

Not knowing how fast Natalie planned to move, Bruce went to her website right away. It was blocked. Dammit. Of course it was blocked. He broke out in a sweat. He practically tore the house apart looking for anything he could get online with. He found his wife's old computer, waited impatiently for it to charge enough to turn on and went straight to Majesty Natalie's site. In the time it took before he could send her the money, he got another text.

Tick, tock, Bruce. It's for your own good. You know you're nothing but a brainless paypig.

"Yes," Bruce whispered. "I'm your brainless paypig, Princess."

The computer was painfully slow, it was the reason his wife didn't use it anymore, and Bruce drummed his fingers against it anxiously. "Come on, come on, come on," he mumbled.

Should I send it to your wife first? I can't wait for you to come back to me and spend every penny you earn on me

Finally, Bruce gets logged on and puts his payment through. The texts stop, and he thinks he's over the worst of it. He can send Natalie a few hundred dollars every now and then, call her , he could manage that much without getting sucked back in. He could still walk this tightrope.

His wife came home twenty minutes later with divorce papers.

"I get a notification," she said, showing him her phone, "when you go on blocked websites. We're done." Bruce's heart sank, but he didn't fight it. He couldn't explain to her why he'd done it, and part of him didn't want to. With her gone, he could be Natalie's again.

Epilogue: Three months later

Bruce's phone chimed. A message from his ex-wife. She had sent him a picture of herself and a man he recognized as his high school bully.

"He has a bigger dick than you" the message read. "And he knows how to use it, too"

The guy who had traumatized him in school was now fucking his wife. Ex-wife. It didn't matter. Well, it did. It hurt and humiliated him, but he can't care because he had Natalie now, whenever he can afford her. He lost his job shortly after his wife left him, since his boss caught him jerking off at his desk to a picture of Natalie's shoes. He started working at a fast food restaurant so he could afford to send Natalie at least a little money. His wife got the house, so Bruce was staying at the homeless shelter. Rent was so much, and he needed that money for Natalie. He was completely humiliated and, finally, where he was supposed to be. He was her gooner, through and through. Pretending to be anything but her cash cow was avoiding the truth.

He willingly, desperately, needed to be Natalie's bankrupt paypig for life.

I hope you enjoyed this story by me, Majesty Natalie :) 

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