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A desperate, married man, fingers trembling, types out a message to his financial mistress. "Please, Goddess, I can't afford this month's payment," he pleads, his heart pounding. She responds instantly, her tone clipped, "You'll find the money, paypig. Or I'll make sure your wife knows where her husband's 'business trips' really take him. You wouldn't want that, would you, loser?" He swallows hard, his mind racing. He knows he'll comply, as he always does. She owns him, body and soul.