At your service, master ll. Dirty, rich and yours

The office was in silence. Enrique waited on his knees, naked, exactly as Aarón had ordered. The curtains were closed. The mobile phone was turned off. The bank account was open on the laptop in front of him. The only thing he was wearing was a leather collar with a small engraved tag: "property of Aarón".

The young man appeared at nine o'clock sharp. He was wearing his gray sweat suit, a sweaty tank top, and a gym bag hanging from his shoulder.

"Well, well... how obedient my banker is today."

"Welcome, master," Enrique whispered, his voice trembling with lust and adoration.

"And what's with the open laptop screen?"

"It's my personal account... and my card is in your bag. Today I want you to ruin me, master."

Aarón raised an eyebrow. He sat down in the executive's chair, opened the laptop, and whistled when he saw the figures.

"Is this all you have?"

"Yes, master. Everything. Bonds, stocks, cash. It's all yours if you want it."

Aarón leaned back, with a sideways smile.

"And what makes you want me to empty your accounts, rich boy?"

"Watching you fuck my dignity, my work... my fortune. There's nothing more humiliating. Nothing more perfect."

The young man looked at him for a moment, then got up and walked towards him, slowly. He took off his tank top. Dropped the bag. Stepped on Enrique's hand with force.

"Then get ready, Wall Street bitch. Today I'm going to break you... and buy you yourself with your own money."

He made Enrique lie down on the table. Enrique arched his back as he felt the young man's body pressing down on his. Aarón penetrated him without asking, while typing with one hand on the keyboard:

"Let's start easy... 10,000 euros to my account." Keyboard. Click. Transfer complete.

Enrique moaned.

"Now... an automatic monthly payment. 5,000. Every first of the month." Click.

The businessman came violently, trembling beneath him.

"Did you come from a transfer, rich bitch?"

"Yes, master... I'm nothing without you. Everything that's mine... is yours."

Aarón spat in his face. Then he put his sweaty underwear in Enrique's mouth.

"Do you want to live in my neighborhood? In my shitty apartment?"

"Yes, master."

"Do you want me to sell your Mercedes to buy myself a quad?"

"Please, yes!"

Aarón laughed while continuing to fuck him.

"You're the best investment I've ever made, shit banker."

The session lasted more than an hour. When it ended, Enrique was covered in sweat, semen, and tears. The laptop was still open, showing the account now noticeably emptier.

Aarón cleaned himself with a napkin, pulled up his pants, and before leaving, left a note on the table:

"Next time I want the deeds to your house. And I want you in heels."

Enrique, panting, could only nod with a ...