Fantasies are hot.
I have a bunch,
So here’s one…
You loved serving Him, your master. He was everything you wanted and more than you ever knew you needed. Yet, despite all of this, you had begun to be doubtful of your place in the relationship. You were always on edge, always anxiously worrying about how to please Him and survive the next month. Your savings had slowly evaporated, and even your checking account was running dangerously low. You’d spoken to Him, of course, and He was perfectly understanding, letting you know He’d always support you.
A month went by, a slow terribly painful month. Every time you bought something, you wished you were buying Him something. Every time you walked past a store and saw the mannequins in something stylish, you pictured Him in it. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep your mind from going back to Him, in all of His glory. All you wanted was to return to His side but you held fast, possessed by some strength you didn’t know you had.
You knew you weren’t going to last, you knew you were going to relapse so you did what a responsible adult does in a situation like this: you sought outside help.
Dr. Godeau came to you highly recommended, an older gentleman who had always worked with men, particularly gay men. He had worked on people with relationship troubles and issues with addiction so you thought he would be the only man out there capable of helping you, capable of understanding what you were going through.
You arrived at Dr. Godeau’s office on time and were promptly led into the therapy room by his secretary. The room was furnished in comfortable seats, chairs, sofas, and even a beanbag. On the walls were pictures of beautiful sandy beaches, quiet meadows, and flowery plains. Soft reggae played quietly and even the smell of the room was calming, the aroma reminding you of lavender and vanilla. Dr. Godeau was writing on a notepad when you arrived but stood as soon as he noticed you, a warm inviting smile on his face and his large hand outstretched to shake yours. He radiated warmth and acceptance, any judgment he might ever have locked deep down within himself, never to be spoken aloud.
“Hello there, Jacob is it? Please, make yourself comfortable and pick whatever seat fits your mood. I will be with you in a moment, I just need to finish my notes here… and done. So tell me, Jacob, why are you here today? And feel free to not answer that question until you’re ready, we can talk about something if you would feel more comfortable starting with that,” said Dr. Godeau, his voice deep and paternal, while stroking his salt and pepper beard.
“No it’s fine Dr. Godeau, I want to… deal with this as soon as possible. I have a problem that I think you can help me with. I have always been submissive, particularly to masculine men, and I had found the perfect one to serve and worship. He treated me better than I had any claim to yet was resolved and firm enough to punish me when necessary.”
“Ahh, I’ve heard a great many times and will continue to hear,” said Dr. Godeau. “It sounds like you’ve found yourself the perfect relationship but if it was so perfect, I doubt you would be here with me now.”
“Correct, Doctor. He was always demanding and I was always happy to follow whatever whim He may have. I served Him dutifully and faithfully for many months, treating Him like the King He is. However, a little less than two months ago, I realized I couldn’t continue to support Him as He deserved. I told Him as much and He was completely understanding. He even told me I should do what was in my best interest for once and stop if I felt I should. And I did.”
“Support him? As in financially?” asked Dr. Godeau, clearly perplexed.
“Yes, Doctor. If He wanted something, I got it for Him. Sometimes I would even just send him some money. I guess it was my way of letting Him know how much I wanted to worship Him.”
“I see. Now you mentioned that you stopped… “supporting” Him, why was that?” asked Dr. Godeau.
“I was beginning to go crazy. I had stopped taking care of myself as I should and I was sending Him my money faster than I was making it. It had reached a point where it was no longer sustainable, so I had to stop. I thought He might be angry at me, or worse, disappointed yet He only seemed a little saddened. Don’t get me wrong, He could be awfully selfish when He let Himself be, but I didn’t sense any of that. He was genuinely concerned for me, which may be why I can’t get Him out of my head. God, sometimes I wish I had never learned about Findom but then I realize without that discovery, I never would have met Him…”
“He certainly sounds too good to be true and I can completely empathize with your… devotion to the man. I’m a little confused about a term you used, “Findom”. Can you explain it to me, Jacob?” said Dr. Godeau, a look of intrigue carving itself upon his face.
“Well Doctor, as I understand it, Findom is a short-hand term for Financial Domination, a paraphilia of BDSM wherein “tributes”, usually in the form of money and expensive gifts, are offered to the dominant as a means of symbolizing the exchange of power in the relationship. The money is generally important to the dominant, but it really boils down to someone giving up what they worked so hard to get, willingly and dilligently.”
“Well, I learned something new today. Thank you for sharing, Jacob. If you don’t mind my inquisitiveness on the matter, what do you get out of it?” asked Dr. Godeau, his intrigue now seemingly bordering on fascination.
“You know that feeling when you give someone a gift, one that makes them happy and puts a smile on their face? It’s partially that. It’s also that the idea of letting yourself wither away so that your Dominant may flourish and prosper. And there’s also the erotic nature of allowing yourself to be taken advantage of by someone you’re attracted to. I guess, in a certain way, I don’t think I deserve what I have as much as I believe He should have what I have.”
Dr. Godeau was silent for a moment before speaking up: “Well Jacob, that is quite intriguing. I can’t imagine what such a relationship would feel like, but you can’t be so hard on yourself. You are a person worthy of happiness and you shouldn’t let yourself be taken advantage of, even if it feels as good as you say it does.”
You looked Dr. Godeau in the eye and said in a manner that was more reflex than anything else: “You’re wrong, Doctor. Alone, I am a worthless fag boy. With Him, I am a fag boy who has found his purpose.”
You stood up and gathered yourself: “I’m sorry for wasting your time, Dr. Godeau. I see now that I can’t be helped with this. Talking about it has only made me weaker, has only made me crave serving Him even more…”
“Jacob, please don’t go, not yet at least. I want to help you, so please sit down and talk with me some more about Him. I want to know more about this master of yours…”
A week later, you met with Dr. Godeau. The two of you greeted each other warmly, brothers in service to the only man you’d ever felt so strongly about. You made your way to His door and rang the bell. The door opened and there He was, dressed in a white dress shirt and black tie, black slaps wrapped perfectly around his legs.
“I’ve been expecting your return Jacob, and boy am I glad you’ve brought along some fresh meat. Now boys, stop lollygagging and get inside, I have some fun I want to get to.”
Photo by David Travis on Unsplash
