There’s pretty much nothing I won’t write about. From my sex life, to falling in love, being humiliated, deeply deeply personal shit – I genuinely just don’t care. I receive an enormous amount of pleasure in writing and in leading a transparent lifestyle in general.
That was of course, until a recent meeting with a potential new slave.
I not only heard things that were so … out there … but I genuinely wondered if this dude went through with his plans if I could even be tied to anything. After 3 years of leading this lifestyle I had ABSOLUTELY found my limit.
This is some SERIOUSLY fucked up shit, man.
Alrite … gather round …
So, obvi, I’m a domme. You can read more about how I got into it over yonder, but I’m still a n00b and enjoy it not for sexual reasons but for the power it has given me in business. In domination, the shy people pleaser is stripped and exchanged with this … presence. It started off as dissociative but now that I’ve been doing it for a few months it has seeped in pretty heavily into my life.
I’m a great, great domme.
Either way, I got an email from this dude asking if I had ever considered financial domination.
Financial domination? What’s that? I wondered.
After a quick google search, I had my answer.
Financial Domination is when people, usually slaves and submissive men, pay or tribute money to a Dominant Female. This fetish is brought on by the need to be controlled in any and every way possible. True financial domination means that the slave tributes money of his own volition without expecting anything in return. Often, the Mistress humiliates the slave verbally while he tributes Her.
Many financial slaves tribute on a weekly or daily basis, as well as buy their Mistresses gifts whenever told to or whenever they feel it necessary. Often a financial slave will take it upon himself to adopt a Mistress’ bill which he will pay faithfully every month for Her.
The financial slave desires for his Goddess or Mistress to live like a Princess or a Queen while he himself is often forced to make financial sacrifices. The financial slaves truly see their Mistresses as Princesses or Goddesses and worship them thus.
Sometimes financial domination is coupled with a blackmail fetish. The blackmail fetish (My personal favorite as a femdom Mistress!) brings the slave deeper into his submission by forcing him to obey and tribute his Mistress or bare the consequences of his blackmail information and/or pictures being posted by Her. Often there is a blackmail contract involved since blackmail is a potential legal hazard for the Mistress unless all bases are covered.
Now, I’m a foot fetish queen. Dudes that come to me are interested in being objectified and humiliated with a side helping of sadism.
This was new, but maybe something I could be into.
Alrite, I replied back. Let’s meet.
I then arranged our first meeting to be at one of my favorite bars, in broad daylight, on a very busy Saturday.
When I arrived I saw him sitting at the bar (he had texted me telling me what he was wearing). I approached.
Hello, I say greeting him with a hug.
Hello, he says barely able to look me in the eyes.
He’s going to be a good sub, I thought.
Let’s go in the back, I said. We’re going to need privacy.
We then sat in a booth and I asked him to tell me more about himself and what he was into.
I’m a financial advisor, he admitted.
Ironic, I thought.
Tell me more …
I had a domme up until recently but sadly she is now pregnant and engaged.
We then ordered a round of beers.
What did she do?
I was really into having her use me as she got ready for dates. I would take her shopping, off to get her hair done, and buy her things specifically for her to use them on other men.
Like lingerie? I pressed.
Yes, he said.
His eyes then went to my body.
Have you ever dated a slave, he asked?
No, I said. I would never date a slave.
Because you’re not worthy. You’re not even human, you’re a slave. I have zero emotional attachment to you – I say 5% believing it myself.
He smiles as he continues to sip his beer.
You are much prettier than your pictures, he admits.
Thank you, I said. Back to you, I say controlling the conversation.
ARRRRRGHHHHHHH THIS STORY TOTALLY FREAKS ME OUT!! I CAN BARELY EVEN WRITE THIS!!! Breathe Friel, Breathe.
He then chugs the rest of his beer and orders another one.
I stare at the slave causing a break in the conversation.
He’s in his early 40s. Sandy brown hair. Wearing a black shirt and jeans.
This could be any “Joe, Tom, Dick, or Harry.” This is the guy that goes to church and attends PTA meetings regularily.
The taxi driver in Vegas was so, so, right I thought. It’s always the quiet reserved ones that are into some super kinky shit.
He then chugs yet another beer.
I am at this point half way through my first one.
Now, I’m a drinker – but this dude? holy shit. I’ve never seen anything like it.
We then continue talking about dating and my lifestyle in general.
I date a lot, I admitted. It’s my job to get out there and meet new people.
How far are you willing to take this, he says as he leans in chugging YET ANOTHER beer.
Speak slave, I order raising my eyebrow.
I had an arrangement with my last domme where she would be the beneficiary on my life insurance policy. My company automatically gives us a 1 million dollar insurance policy.
She would then instruct me to do “risky” things.
Like skydiving? I ask.
That’s too regulated, he said. I’m talking more about going swimming in a shark den off of Catalina. The best part is, is that I can’t swim.
His body visibly quivered with excitement.
This fucker wants me to kill him, I thought. You have GOT to be kidding me.
Wondering how far he was going to take this I slipped into my improv shoes and decided to say “yes and” to everything that came out of his mouth.
We were just getting to that point with my last domme when she got pregnant. I really want to explore this.
How did you first hear about this, I asked innocently?
There used to be a pretty big group on Yahoo! and we would all post the risky things our dommes would ask us to do. I hadn’t found someone who was into it though until recently.
Do you think this is too far?
I stare back at him and realize we are WAAAYYY past the point of no return.
No it doesn’t freak me out, I said. You’re just lucky I’ve given you this much of my time in general. I want you to tell me more and get to the fucking point, I commanded.
He shook again with excitement.
I have a condo in Venice, I’d also put that in your name.
Damn right, you will I said playing along.
And what about other properties? You make enough money to have multiple houses.
Scottsdale. A house. Yours.
Good boy, that pleases me.
I also want to get another insurance policy. 250K. Yours.
Good boy, I say.
You can only collect once though, he instructed.
I look him dead in the eye, and realize this guy is legitimately serious. He really, really wants me to kill him.
He then catches himself.
Is this going too fast, he wondered chugging YET ANOTHER beer?
What is fast, I said getting all Yoda.
He then started to do the math in his head.
How long will this take? he asked.
Do you think I’ll be alive next year?
I stare back blankly.
Improv Friel, Improv. Play the part. Find out more about this guy’s fetish.
You’ll live for as long as I let you, I say. Have you ever known someone who has “collected?”
I finally ordered my second beer. At this point he was on about his 5th. Mind you, we had only been there for about a half an hour. I have NO idea why the waitress even kept serving him.
Yes, he said. My last domme’s sister. She collected on her slave and now she is also married with kids.
OMG, I think.
Now, I’m a mama hen. I’m extremely pack oriented and a lioness. That makes me a natural protecter. The THOOOOUUUGHHHHHTTTTTT of being involved with something like this IMMEDIATELY sent shivers up my spine.
I’m in too deep, I thought. Eject, Friel. EJECT!!!!
I need to use the restroom, I say.
Here, he says handing over his glass. Fill it.
Fill it? I ask.
Use this cup.
HOLY SHIT, I thought. HE WANTS ME TO PEE IN THIS THING!!!!
Oh HELLLLL NOOOOOOOO CHILLLLDDDDD.
I’m really good, I say handing the cup back to him. And I’m just going to go. I can’t be involved with something like this I admitted.
I could audibly hear his heart break as his face flushed.
I think you’re great, and I’m sure going to make a domme super happy, but we’re not into the same things.
I placed my hand on his shoulder and wished him well as I was walking away.
What is well in this scenario, I thought? Happy dying?
Yep, I’ve definitely discovered a limit.
Now I at least know I have them.