Maeve's Piggybank

“Alright, my turn to go get a round,” you said. You and Maeve had gone back to talking about University, and why she’d chosen to do an internship in the US when she probably had more (and better) opportunities in the UK - her answer had been that she wanted a reason to see the States, and other than a few specific people she’d met it was generally as overbearing and overhyped as she’d expected.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about that,” she said, shaking her head. It set her curly hair waving a bit and you wanted to run your hand through it but didn’t follow through on the reflex. “I’ll order another round on my tab.”

“You’ve already bought two,” Gemma said across the table. “It’s our turn.”

“Oh,” Maeve said. “Right, no, I haven’t been buying them. Alastair has been.”

She said it so matter-of-factly that you felt like you should have known who ‘Alastair’ was, but you definitely didn’t know anyone by that name.

“Who?” Sabrina asked after a moment.

“My Paypig,” Maeve said.

“...What?” you asked.

“Maeve, stop having fun,” Amanda sighed, shaking her head.

Maeve smirked a little.

“Wait, paypig?” Sabrina asked, sounding like she’d made a connection in her mind. “That’s a kink thing, right?”

“Sort of,” Maeve said. “Well, for him anyway. I actually have three of them. It’s ‘Financial Domination’ - like I told John, I’m interested in unique sexual experiences. One of those experiences led me to taking on some Paypigs.”

“OK, hold on,” Gemma said. “So you’re… I don’t get it. Is this like a BDSM thing that they… pay you for?” Her tone hinted at ‘Isn’t that just prostitution?’

“Again, sort of on their part,” Maeve said. “I haven’t really been able to figure out the psychology of it yet, and there aren’t exactly a breadth of studies on the subject for me to draw from. Basically, I have three very well-off men who send me money and gifts whenever I demand them. One of them pays for my rent every month in London, another one obsesses over me having the latest fashions and gets off on me ruining the designer clothes he has delivered after wearing them only once or twice, and Alastair pays for anything I eat or drink. I can also use their credit cards as often as I want, though I save that for special occasions.”

“Holy fuck,” Sabrina said, shaking her head slightly. “And what do they get out of it?”

“The occasional text from me,” she shrugged. “One of them only wants to be called degrading things, so that’s fairly easy. Another enjoys being turned down by me so I generally only need to tell him I want something and ‘No’ when he asks me out. Alistair is a bit of a little bitch when I’m not spending enough of his money so sometimes I have to pretend I’m spending it on male prostitutes, or hooking up with people from Uni.”

“Jesus,” Gemma said, her eyes wide.

“Actually,” Maeve said, taking her phone out of her purse. “Mind if I take a photo of us, John? He’ll lose his mind if he knows I’m planning on fucking you.”

“Not his face,” Sabrina said quickly.

Maeve shrugged. “That’s probably better actually. Here, Amanda, get on the other side of John.”

Soon you were getting two pictures taken, one just showing the bottom of your jaw as Maeve posed with a hand on your chest, scowling slightly at the camera, as Amanda hugged your other arm with her big cleavage pressed to it but her face out of frame as well, and then another for the two of them that showed all three of you smiling nicely.

Amanda pinched your butt as she stepped away and you laughed and shook your head.

“Here, watch this,” Maeve said. “It’s… around 3 AM in London right now. I’ll send this, and he’ll respond in a few minutes.” She sent her text and then put her phone down on the table.

“How did you… I guess it doesn’t matter how you met them,” Sabrina said. “Doesn’t it feel weird, getting all of that from these guys who you basically ****?”

Maeve shrugged. “Why should it? I didn’t coerce them into it, all I did was respond to some Direct Messages on my Instagram. Each of them started sending me money before I asked.”

“But, have you ever talked about it explicitly?” Gemma asked. “Like… so everyone knows the line of consent? What if one of them, like the one who asks you out, is being serious?”

“I asked the same question when she told me,” Amanda said. “Maeve wrote up contracts and everything to protect herself legally.”

“It would be entirely irresponsible not to,” Maeve said. “The tax implications alone could ruin me if I didn’t do it all through legally binding contracts.”

“So you pretty much act like a bitch to them, and they send you, well, thousands of British pounds a month?” you asked.

“If you include my rent, and average out some of the larger other purchases across multiple months, my Paypigs make me about £45,000 per month. That’s about $57,600,” Maeve said. “To be fair, I invest most of the actual cash payments, so it’s technically more than that now.”

Part of you wanted to be disgusted. Part of you wondered if Sabrina, in her amateur pornstar persona, could take on a few Paypigs since that kind of cash would help expedite paying for law school for you, her and Gemma, not to mention all the other living expenses and such. For some reason, though, you didn’t like the idea of it for her - the amateur content, and the money generated from it, felt a lot more… honest, even if it was more risky than how Maeve described what she was doing.

You also wondered what Amanda’s thoughts were on it, considering Sabrina’s insistence that she did OnlyFans content as well. Did Maeve know about that, if the two of them were so open about the FinDom stuff?

Maeve’s phone pinged, and she picked it up and frowned slightly before setting it down and turning it to show you, Gemma and Sabrina. A Venmo notification had come through, sending £6,969.69 to Maeve’s account from ‘Little Piggy.’ “See?” she said. “I’ll go get the next round.”

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