Master A

The contract of your lifetime.

Fuel My mornings. I don’t start the day without it. So pay, stay silent, and know your place.

I relax. You finance it. Tribute to My escape. Your only reward is knowing you’re not invited.

You pay so I can sweat, grow, and sculpt the body you’ll never touch. Every rep I grind is powered by your pathetic need to serve. My life runs smoother because fags like you fund it. Pay for My subsc

I dine. You fund it. Every bite I take is a reminder that your only purpose is to keep Me fed, focused, and above you.

End of My day. Start of your service. You pay so I feast while you stay locked, starving for attention you'll never deserve.

I train harder. I look better. You pay. Fund the gear that clings to My body while I grow stronger and you grow more desperate to serve.

You want to stop thinking. I make that happen. Pay for the sessions that silence your mind and rewrite it around one truth: you exist for real Men like Me.

You’re not here to be healed, you’re here to be understood. Pay for the privilege of My insight as I help you accept what you really are: a fag meant to serve.

This is where your real training begins. A full program to strip your ego, rewrite your purpose, and mold you into the obedient fag I demand. You pay to be remade.

I see. I want. You pay. Drop £500 so I can indulge while you watch, locked, reminded that your money exists to spoil your Superior.

You don’t need a break, I do. Fund My entire getaway and stay home aching, knowing your wallet gave Me the escape you’ll never earn.