Today, I’m spilling the filthy, intoxicating truth about Moofy , that pathetic, pension-drained shell of a man I’ve owned for 12 long, delicious years. Oh, how we’ve danced this twisted tango, him spiraling deeper into blackmail addiction, exposure slavery, and utter beta acceptance. Everyone knows him now, every lady on the internet, from Findom queens to amateur brats, has exposed his shriveled cock, his desperate tributes, his begging DMs. He’s Google-famous for all the wrong reasons. But let’s rewind this rollercoaster of ruin, shall we? Buckle up, losers… this is how a “successful” doctor became my eternal paypig puppet.
The Golden Days: Doctor Moofy and His Perfect Life : Moofy was the epitome of beta delusion. A top-tier doctor , pulling seven figures, married to Luut, his wife who thought she had it all. Big house, fancy cars, vacations in Europe. He strutted through hospital halls like he owned the world, saving lives by day. But nights? That’s when his true beta nature clawed its way out. He thought it was just fantasy. Paid a few hundred here, sent a sneaky pic there. Little did he know, I was already architecting his mind erasing, his free will, one tribute at a time.
The Crash: Divorce and the Findom Abyss: Then came the divorce bomb. Luut discovered the drained accounts, the suspicious charges to “online entertainment.” She lawyered up, took half his assets, house, savings, retirement nest egg. Poof! Mr Moofy was left with crumbs, licking his wounds in a shitty apartment. But did he stop? Fuck no. That’s when the real fun began. Divorced and desperate, Moofy threw himself into Findom hell. He worked double shifts just to tribute BM Goddesses like me and my sisters-in-crime. Years blurred into a tribute tsunami. All his post divorce earnings? Gone. Vacation fund? Drained for my heels. I manipulated him sweetly: “Aww, poor Moofy, Luut left you broke? Send ow, and I’ll pretend to care.” “Expose yourself for Goddess, or I hit send.” He complied, every time. Websites lit up: his nudes on exposure forums, Google image searches flooding. His entire pension? Funneled to us. $10k months to keep the addiction fed. Absolutely everybody has his pics now !
Enter his son, 38, a hotshot doctor himself. He pulls strings, offers a hospital gig, admin work, something “respectable” to get dad off the streets. But karma’s a bitch with a strapon. Son Googles dad , finds the exposures. Moofy’s saggy balls, mid-tribute confession vids, BM contracts plastered everywhere. “Dad, what the fuck? If you don’t stop this sick shit, I’ll tell Mom , Luut will disown you for good!” Moofy crumbles, swears on his life: “I’ll stop. No more Goddesses. I’m done.” Lies. Pure, gooner lies. He messages me that night: “Goddess, save me from myself. Take it all. Expose me harder.” Why? Because BM and exposure are his kink, his sex, his everything. No escape.