Findom- The Ultimate Domination?

I recently heard (from an ex-Findomme) that Findom is the ultimate form of domination as once that money is handed over, it is gone, therefore it is the ultimate power. As soon as I heard this, it made me think (of course), but it also made me question the veracity of this statement.

It also made me think about some of the Findom requests I had recently received and thought about how I might ethically, responsibly, and creatively, engage in another dimension of Female Domination that was suited to me personally.

But the question of money being the ‘ultimate form of Domination’ still irked me, because I knew this not to be true. Money spent, given away, tributed, can all be earned again if so desired- money is not a finite source in life, nor in any one individual’s life although it may seem that way at times.

Even for those that hand over hard-earned money to Findommes are only handing over a resource that is not finite. But the going out again to work more hours, more days, overtime- that is the crux of it- they are spending their finite time to earn more money.

For them it might be more like:


Now, this might be correct for those that work for a paycheck of some sort, engaged in the dynamic of time spent at work for money per hour, regardless of the per hour rate. But what if someone did not have to work per hour? What if they had a passive income stream of some sort? Once that money was taken by a Findom, it could easily be regenerated by compound interest. Therefore, not the ultimate power exchange.

There is only one form of exchange that is truly finite and that is time.

What about the HNWI subs that do not have to exchange their time for money? Or the ones that exchange their time at such a high rate pro rata that much of what they hand over is small fry to them? Independently wealthy- their money works for them.

If they have found a way to make their money work for them, how can Findom work for them, and more importantly, the Domme? If it is of no real stretch for someone to hand over money, where is the Domination in this?

So, unless I want to extract ever increasing amounts from the sub, there must be a way to really target his wallet in a meaningful way.

Psychological research shows that spending money has less emotional impact when we pay via card or on the Internet (cite source) rather than paying via cash. Essentially using a card rather than cash 'dulls' the experience: Monopoly Money: the effect of payment coupling and form on spending behaviour.

Does that mean that cash drops would therefore be more of a psychological impact for the sub than sending gifts, vouchers or giftcards via email? Would it have a deeper and more lasting impression than the fleeting thrill of the click of a button?

Most of my clients prefer payment via BACS in advance of our time together so that the money element need not be raised during our time together, and as old-school gents, this suits them well. Likewise, this suits me well too.

For those to whom the financial transaction is part of the thrill, cash is king. Handing over thousands in cash certainly has a lot more impact than a bank transfer, which is easily done especially when someone is set up as an ‘existing payee’. And for those that work with money on a daily basis, numbers on a screen can mean even less, even when it is their own.

So what else could be done?

For large sums maybe a James Bond style cat-and-mouse style cash/chip drop at a casino would be more thrilling, adding to the frisson of the exchange?

Or instruct the sub to align their portfolios to less index-linked investments, and more socially conscious investments?

Interestingly, the median age range for the people I see appears to be in the 50-60 age range (with a few significant outliers!) and research also shows that it is this demographic that are less inclined towards Socially Responsible Investments: Socially Responsible Investing: How Millennials are Driving It.

Make him donate a generous sum to the charity of my choice? Anonymously. No charity gala, no black tie, no handshakes and social validation. Just a plain donation. In cash. 

And I so continued with my thinking. More specifically, how I might want to engage in Findom in a way that suited me.

I’m not someone who swears much in life so all the usual clichés are out for me, but I knew that I would be interested in finding a few people with whom I could strike up a genuine power exchange, in a financial context that is done with Dominant compassion, integrity, and intelligence. That the sub may or may not be into humiliation, but is into financial servitude. Not to feel emasculated, but nourished by his generosity.

Essentially, a style of Findom that is less about draining the last drops from someone and more about raising a joyful glass to the D/s dynamic.

So, I am still curious about the possibilities of creating financial servitude connections, whether at distance or in person, that are more based on genuine power exchange, rather than selling revealing photos for cash. Something that is aligned with generosity of spirit, where neither party is diminished in the giving or receiving but where the (financial) servitude is an enhancement of the D/s relationship to enrichen both parties.

I’d be very interested to hear your thoughts on this topic- is money the ultimate form of domination?

Professional Domination and Sexual Objectification.

This is a repost from the archives of previous blog but one that I think is still very much worth a repost. Some very minor parts have been edited to reflect changes since it was written four and half years ago but the heart of the piece is still very much relevant...



Without wanting to get all Feminist Theory 101, before I begin here is Martha Nussbaum’s definition of sexual objectification to give you an idea of what I am talking about in this post.

•     Instrumentality: the treatment of a person as a tool for the objectifier’s purposes;

•     Denial of autonomy: the treatment of a person as lacking in autonomy and self-determination;

•     Inertness: the treatment of a person as lacking in agency, and perhaps also in activity;

•     Fungibility: the treatment of a person as interchangeable with other objects;

•     Violability: the treatment of a person as lacking in boundary-integrity;

•     Ownership: the treatment of a person as something that is owned by another (can be bought or sold);

•      Denial of subjectivity: the treatment of a person as something whose experiences and feelings (if any) need not be taken into account.

(Source: Nussbaum, Martha, 1995, “Objectification”, Philosophy and Public Affairs, 24(4): 249–29)

Now that you’ve hopefully not run away screaming, I can share that one of my major perplexities since starting as a Professional Dominant has been how to reconcile the Professional aspect with the Dominant aspect. Is it truly possible to have both the Professional and the Dominant aspects in equal measure, or would I have to relinquish one in favour of the other?

It’s a subject I have given a lot of thought to and tried to direct my practice in such a way that reflects my conclusions on the subject. On one hand I want people to walk away happy and satisfied with their experience, but on the other I do not want them to direct how that should be.

The three areas of contention that seem to occur the most are: Instrumentality, Fungibility and Denial of subjectivity. 


One of my major bugbears is very specific clothing requests. From a young age I was very clear about what I would and would not wear- no white socks, only ‘brown socks’ (which according to my mother meant any colour that wasn’t white). I have not changed, not least in my taste in socks but with regards to the overall principle too. Aside from the annoying implication that I should have to wear a costume in order to ‘become’ Dominant rather than acknowledging that I am regardless of whether I’m wearing jeans or a leather catsuit, I am not ‘Dominatrix Barbie’, to be dressed up as you please. Let me be myself, dress myself and if there is something that particularly excites you, do let me know but in a general ‘I really like the photo of you in black strappy shoes’ or ‘I find red lipstick to be a turn on’ way because I certainly do like to use my feminine powers against you, my looks and clothing included. The secret is to appeal to my dominance, not to make demands of a Dominant Woman. It really is just common sense.

Likewise, do not expect me to be a wind-up talking Domme-Doll whose string can be pulled to produce the words that get you off:

Person tied to bed: And are you going to put me over your knee and tell me what I bad boy I’ve been?

Person being led: Yes, I’m going to put you over my knee and tell you what a bad boy you’ve been. An attempt to make this happen has happened only once. Enough said.  

Just as soon as you think of something, you can Google it and find that someone, somewhere has had the same idea as you. What did we ever do before the Internet?


I have recently changed my minimum time to reflect the fact that I do want to spend some time getting to know you before we play and I want you to get to know me also. I find going straight into play space very jarring unless I already know someone. It feels more like acting and getting into character rather than sharing my authentic self, even if later we do role-play together. Beyond that, I find it odd that you would be willing to be tied up by someone who didn’t even take the time to get to know you first but I am willing to concede that that is solipsistic thinking on my part. Also, I do not offer a brief consultation prior to play but prior to making an appointment. Whether it is a consultation appointment or a thorough examination of your interests, experiences and limits via email, I will not schedule a session with anyone without having a clear idea of what they are looking for. Otherwise potentially we are both wasting our time (and for you, your money). Beyond that, I find it hard to make an informed choice as to whether I want to session with someone without a good understanding of their desires.

Denial of Subjectivity

Then there is the notion of the PD as a ‘service-provider’. I do not list ‘services’ but interests. I have always been clear about this from the beginning when I first wrote the copy for my website. It is not merely semantics. I do not consider myself to provide services but to provide an experience. Personally, this is the most contentious issue. Yes, I want both of us to have a mutually enjoyable time (even if your time is spent in pain/being erotically humiliated) and the fact I want to deliver a good session does not mean that I am a service provider. It means that I take pride my Dominance and my ability to get inside your head. Indeed, the ability to get inside someone’s head, pull out their desires and make them come alive pleases me immensely. With a service provider, you are (hopefully) getting what you want. It’s quite easy to get what you want in life these days if you have the means but that’s quite a shallow level of satisfaction.

Yes, I have a job but I don’t see my job as giving you what you want but rather what you need. In my opinion, that is the difference between a service-provider mistress and a Mistress.



FLR Valentine Part One


Sometimes, my gents want to spend some time meeting in a vanilla situation, Skyping or talking on the phone before we meet. Also, sometimes, we email. This is always a wonderful way to build a connection together, discussing our various interests and how they align and begin to exchange that wonderful D/s energy.

Since closing down my old blog, which ran from 2012-2014, and now bringing back to life a new and updated website, I have heard from a few gents who followed my weekly blog posts, wanting to meet with me but never quite mustering up the courage to contact me, saw that I had returned and decided to take the bull by the horns and email or phone me. How wonderful!

I was contacted by a chap who wondered if he might email with me so that we could have a more in-depth exchange before he thought about making a date with me. He emphasised that he wanted to tribute me for my time and we set up a pen pal exchange via email.

Imagine my delight when a little story popped in my inbox this morning! It seems I have been quite the muse recently, inspiring the artistic soul of those that enjoy expressing themselves through words.

I asked if he would be okay with me sharing it here, and he agreed. I think Part Two I will write in reply, detailing how the evening continues for him, but not wanting to give too much away of what I do have planned for our upcoming meeting.


I awake before my alarm. My night has been restless, hell - my week has been restless. It's today, finally today has arrived. My mouth and throat are dry with the anticipation. The same thoughts, the same fears keep rushing through my mind. Will I disappoint her? Will I be able to please her? Will she be dissatisfied with what I have prepared for her. Will she feel my gratitude? Will she accept my servitude?

I must get up. Check through my preparations to make sure I've missed nothing that might misplease Miss Fitzgerald. I feel I've come to know her, through reading her blog and our conversations on the phone and through our email exchanges. She'd let slip a few things, perhaps intentionally, perhaps not.......

..... I'm here, I'm actually here. The hotel room looks so smart, so luxurious. She surely won't be disappointed. It's Valentine's day, and the hotel have followed my instructions clearly. Not a hint of any schmaltzy triteness that I know would offend Miss has been placed in here. The roses I had requested, they fill the room with their intoxicating presence, and they're breathtakingly elegant in their crisp whiteness. Miss will be pleased. Won't she?
I hurriedly check my watch. She'll be here soon. I have my instructions, I must comply - I must have a bath drawn for precisely 4:17pm. I get the scented bath oil I painstakingly chose for Miss out of my bag and make my way to the cool marbled room. I comply. The bathroom fills with steam, intermingled with the scent of violets. Good I think, there's not a hint of vanilla. I know that would displease her.

The gentle yet precise rapping on the door snaps me to a state of alertness. This is it. I make my way to the door and tentatively open it. A warm smile meets my apprehension, which I can feel instantly dissipates. Almost unawares I feel my hand taken and I'm led back to the bathroom.
A soothing, sophisticated voices instructs me to kneel. I feel the soft touch of velvet being tied around my eyes, such a contract to the cold hardness of the marble. My heart is thumping as I hear Miss swish the bathwater. She's pleased. Oh, thank God, she's pleased. Having my sight denied me, my other senses seem to be jumping into overload. She's undresssing, I'm sure of it. What's that, that just brushed my cheek? It must've been silk, what was it? I mustn't move a muscle. She's getting in the bath. Oh God. I can hear splashing, Don't move, don't dare to move. I hear a loud splash. I feel the water trickle down my face. I smell the violets. I've pleased her. She's allowing me to be touched by the water that has caressed her body.


Happy Valentine's to those of you that celebrate it, and for those of us who don't- well, go ahead and treat yourself to something nice- a candlelit bath, catch up with an old friend on the phone, write kinky stories. Who knows where it all might lead?



The Allegory



She lights the candles scattered around the room, taking her time to allow the darkness to become thin slices of light in his narrow field of vision against the mask. There is only the steady sound of each other breathing, the smallness of which fills the entire room and she waits, holding the quiet between them in suspense.

He hears the clink of metal and the soft shuffle of her heels on the carpet. The sound appears to surround him and he cannot tell where she is in the room. As instructed, he keeps his head down as he kneels on the carpet in the centre of the room.

He wants to know where she is, to look up and see her silhouette against the light and feel reassured that she is still there. A moment of panic, of childish need and quiet desperation runs through him and he is tempted to raise his head but he hesitates and breathes in deeply. The heady scent of leather and the light touch of Miss Olivia’s hand cream from where she had caressed his face before blindfolding him steadies his nerves.

Fingers trace lightly on his back. In the few moments he had let his awareness slip away, she has slipped closer to him. The sensation shocks him back in to the present.

“Where were you?” she demands.

“I was wondering where you were Mistress.” His voice tightens in his throat, dry and brittle as the words come out.

A warmth strokes across the side of his face: her breath close to him.

“Then you were not here,“ she whispers.

“No, Mistress.”

“In fact,” He feels the warmth pull away from him “You have been quite remiss. I have been calling you and you have only just answered.”

He feels another warmth in his cheeks, this time burning with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry Mistress, I don’t remember hearing you call me. Please accept my apologies if my mind had wandered again.” 

“Not now. Not here. Before. I have been calling you for some time.”

“I’m sorry Mistress, I don’t understand.”

“I am the siren’s call in your dreams, I am Lilith come back for you, I am the writhing sweat-soaked sleep you call rest.”

A coldness slithers down across his back and encircles his wrists behind him. A click as the chains are padlocked together. 

The panic rises up again. How does she know? Only an hour before they had been sat together over dinner, conversing with ease and now, here he was naked, blindfolded, and chained in his hotel room.

“I know what you dream of at night,” she continues. “I know that you come home tired and by the time you crawl into bed you’re completely exhausted. I know that you long to sleep but sleep is no respite as the dreams prevent restful sleep.”

He lifts his head up in curiosity. It is met by a forceful push back down.

“Sorry Mistress.” He gathers his thoughts. “I was wondering how you know about my dreams?”

She stands closer to him, clasps a handful of his hair and pulls his cheek against her leg. He feels the softness of her stocking, the tautness of her strong muscles and feels overcome with emotion. He cannot say what it is, only that it is a rising feeling like fear or overwhelming happiness. Tears begin to well up in his eyes behind the leather mask and small sobs punctuate the stillness of the room. Her hand strokes his exposed neck.

“I know what you have been hiding from. It is time to stop hiding.”

He nods in agreement, thankful that the mask prevents his tears from damping his Mistress’ leg.

“You dream of me…you dream of me,” she soothes.

Deeper sobs erupt from him, pulsations of deep-buried fear and she allows him to be, close to her, vulnerable but safe. A hand reaches behind his head and removes the blindfold. She moves in front of him, lifting his chin with her hand.

“Slowly open your eyes.”

In the flickering darkness, as his vision returns, he sees before him the woman of his desires, this alchemist of desire, unattainable and yet here in front of him. Her very presence begins to quell the emptiness he feared would haunt him forever.

“Do you trust me?” she asks.

“I do, Mistress. I trust you completely.”

“Then we are ready to begin,” she smiles.

He focuses on her eyes glinting in the dark and feels the weight of the chains behind his back and for the first time in many years, feels that he is truly free.