[235413/4029042]

White Tiger Planning Presents Mio Ichijo: Making Her Pay

The day I confessed to a cosplayer that I was a "tribute masochist," her reaction was completely unexpected. Normally, women either reject you with a "That's disgusting," or see you as an easy mark and start exploiting you instead—but her response was entirely different. When I told her, "I get turned on by giving money to women," she nodded quietly and listened with genuine attention. Then she said, "I understand. Everyone wants to give to someone special. I get it." Her words filled me with an overwhelming sense of relief and warmth. Being accepted like that instantly deepened my trust in her. I became certain that she would actually accept my offerings. I should've opened my wallet right then, but she had another shoot scheduled, so I had to wait. During her break, I rushed to the ATM, withdrawing cash while thinking it'd be great to make a proper introductory offering since it was our first meeting. The moment the shoot ended and we were finally alone, I was already wearing the blissed-out, eager tribute-masochist face. She seemed to know exactly what I wanted. And then, suddenly, she gently pulled me into a warm embrace. Huh…? Just that single act sent my heart racing, flooding me with happiness. This petite, adorable girl was hugging a middle-aged tribute masochist like me. I felt overwhelming affection, as if happiness hormones were gushing uncontrollably from my brain. Massive amounts of oxytocin surged, throwing me into a euphoric, drug-like state. Just being held like that "purified" my mind, turning it completely blank, while pleasure whispered through my body and soul at the perfect moment. It felt as if my very spirit was melting away. "I'll let you give to me." Aaaaaaah… Like I was being guided, I pulled bills from my wallet and handed them over. Trusting her completely, the more I expressed my twisted love through money, the more aroused I became. Before I knew it, what was supposed to be a simple introductory offering had turned into an all-out tribute session—my wallet completely emptied. As long as the money kept coming, I wanted to keep giving forever. I wanted to offer endlessly. While basking in this bliss, my brain wasn't just leaking oxytocin anymore—dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins were gushing out nonstop. And that flood flowed straight to my cock, resulting in a rock-hard, tribute-induced erection. Ahh… it's incredible… I'm melting… She was so kind, and seeing how intensely aroused my tribute-masochist cock was, she escalated into even more blissful torment. Tribute-bill nipple torture, Yen-note grinding, offering-whip flogging, used-pantyhose glans domination—she served me a full-course degenerate tribute-masochist destruction menu. Aaaaaah… it's so amazingggg…! My mind blank, lost in masochistic euphoria. But then I realized—once my body and wallet remember this feeling, there's no turning back. Memories flashed of being broken the same way before. It was all fake. Her empathy? Completely nonexistent. It was just an act—using fake compassion to flood me with oxytocin, then dominating my body with overwhelming skill to turn me into her tribute slave●. I knew this was the classic trap of a wicked woman. My thoughts fragmented. I was already backed into a corner with no escape. The moment I saw her smirking, bills clenched between her teeth, I realized the truth—I had already fallen, completely transformed into her tribute slave●.