Category: FindomGoddess

findom

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

Attention is currency, and mine is priced high for a reason. Don’t confuse this with being a kind soul, mon chéri. I don’t waste time on ghosts who confuse feelings with transactions. My only rule is etched in the ice of a Montreal winter: I only talk to losers who send me money.

And they are, universally, losers. Not in the theatrical sense, but in the sad, damp reality of their lives. They are the men who linger on the edges of crowds, who treat their pathetic lives like a tragedy requiring an audience. They try to send poems, long screeds about their mothers, or worse, unsolicited pictures of their sad little faces or their sad little neglected cocks.

Continue reading “Don’t Confuse This – Findom Phonesex” →

The Casino

Posted 4 weeks ago by Anna

finally

Anna 844-332-2639 EXT. 203

Miss Anna got a gig at a local Casino as a Cocktail waitress. She prowled around every night amongst high rollers and whores looking for someone to play with. Finally, she stumbled upon a kind gentleman. She offered him a drink, and he obliged.

Continue reading “The Casino” →

findom blog

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

Corey was already kneeling when I walked into the living room, a soft, almost imperceptible tremor running through his body. He was dressed precisely as I’d instructed: an old, faded t-shirt that was clearly too small for him, barely covering the lacy bra I’d made him wear underneath. His hair, usually neatly styled, was a mess, indicating he’d spent the morning cleaning my apartment, just as I’d ordered.

“Good morning, little piggy,” I purred, settling onto the plush velvet armchair opposite him. He swallowed hard, his eyes – wide and pleading – fixed on my designer slippers. “Good morning, Mistress.” His voice was raspy, laced with a familiar mix of shame and fervent eagerness. It was a sound I’d grown to enjoy, the sound of a man willingly surrendering his power, his dignity, his very livelihood. “Such a compliant sissyboy, aren’t you?” I let the words hang in the air, watching him flinch slightly, then visibly melt into the humiliation. “Have you been a good little finsub and followed my instructions to the letter?”

Continue reading “Corey Is Such a Good Sissyboy Finsub” →

gooner

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

I was on the laptop in lingerie, as usual. Today’s appointment had just logged on. He wasn’t anything special, not like some of the others who tried to project an air of mystery or charm. This one was just average. Beige. The kind of man you’d pass on the street and forget instantly. He called himself “Braveheart’ in the chat, which felt ironic given how timid his actual keystrokes felt. He wasn’t a high roller, but consistent. Enough to make the time worthwhile. He didn’t want much in terms of conversation, and the pictures he requested were merely a precursor, an hors d’oeuvre to the real meal.

What he truly craved, what he paid for, were the words. Not just any words, but those specific phrases, strung together just so, meticulously crafted and delivered with a precise cadence. The ones that unlocked something in him, a sort of mental key turning in a lock. “Get worse, loser.” I’d type them out because I didn’t need to see his face to know what was happening on his end. The slight delays in his replies,

Continue reading “This gooner wasn’t anything special” →

findom

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I reclined on my velvet chaise lounge, my ruby-red dress hugging my curves just right. My lips, painted the same shade of red as my dress, curled into a wicked grin as I watched Tobias. He stood before me, his eyes filled with desire and longing, his chiseled body tensed with anticipation. He thought I liked him, but oh, how wrong he was. I liked that he paid me. Tobias was a man of wealth, and I was a woman of power. He was my plaything, my puppet, my pet. Our one rule was that he could pump, he could stroke, but never ever would he be allowed to cum. He couldn’t touch me, but I could touch him. I was his goddess, his queen, his mistress. He was my submissive, my slave, my whore.

“Take off your clothes, Tobias,” I commanded, my voice as smooth as silk. He obeyed without question, shedding his designer suit piece by piece until he stood before me in all his naked glory. His cock was already hard, twitching with need. I

Continue reading “my velvet chaise lounge” →

pinged

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

The notification pinged, a shrill, digital cry slicing through the quiet hum of Mark’s cheap laptop. He knew what it was before he even glanced at the screen. A DM from me. Or, more accurately, the DM. He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the trackpad. It was Tuesday. Rinse day. The day his meager freelance earnings evaporated, funneled willingly into the digital abyss of my demands. He’d managed to tuck away a tiny bit extra this week, clinging to the hope of finally replacing his cracked phone screen. Now, that same phone mocked him from the corner of his desk, a constant reminder of his weakness.

Mark sighed, a sound like air leaking from a punctured tire. He knew the rules. He lived by them. Or, rather, he lived for them. The thrill of the chase, the delicious self-loathing as he emptied his digital wallet, the fleeting sense of purpose it gave him. It was pathetic, he knew. Utterly and completely pathetic. He clicked the DM.

Continue reading “The notification pinged” →

Kevin

Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407

We all have those people in our lives—the ones who orbit our world, never quite landing, always just…there. And then there’s this guy. Let’s call him Kevin. (No offense to any Kevins out there, but it feels like a fitting name for this particular brand of awkward admirer.)

Kevin calls me sometimes. Not for anything important, mind you. Not for scintillating conversation or a shared intellectual pursuit. No, Kevin calls to…well, to put it delicately, “appreciate” my voice while “engaging” with me. Okay, fine, he goons. Actually, he’s your typical loser who pays me to pay attention to him while he goons over my photos because he can’t have someone like me in real life. It’s pathetic. There, I said it.

Continue reading “never quite landing” →

Diana 1-844-332-2639 Ext. 248

You’re so pathetic and weak, aren’t you? All you’re good for is throwing money my way while you stroke your pathetic little dick, jacking off to my pictures. You think you’re worth more than that, but you’re not. All I see when I look at you is a disposable ATM. A cashcow that exists to bankroll my lavish lifestyle.

When you send me money, it’s not out of generosity. It’s out of desperation. You’re so infatuated, so obsessed, so utterly enthralled by me that you’ll do anything to catch my attention. Even if that means opening your wallet and letting me drain it dry.

Continue reading “You’re So Pathetic and Weak” →

Mercedes 1844-33-CANDY Ext. 423

You’ve always had a thing for feet, and have always wanted to feel what it’s like to be beneath them. You would pay whatever price, just to get a view. Lucky for you, I have an open schedule for you to drool over all the parts of my feet. This is the day you have been waiting for to give me wads of your cash just to worship my beautiful feet!

Continue reading “A Little Bit of Foot Worship” →

Rhonda 844-332-2639 ext 446

Rise and shine, my little human ATMs. I know exactly what buttons to push to make you spit out as much money as I want, and I do it with an evil smile. Dirty, filthy, disgusting little ******** like you aren’t even worth of me stepping on you. But alas, I am generous. Tribute me well and I just might step on you. Might. It’s important a pathetic little bitch like you understands this. Just because you Tribute me, giving me all your hard-earned money, doesn’t guarantee you’ll get anything back. Continue reading “My Little Human ATMs” →