Here is a findom confession from a worshipper
“I stumbled across Glitter Goddess’ Niteflirt page about a week to 10 days before my first call. Yes, of course I noticed her beauty, but I was drawn to her hypnotic promise. I was drawn specifically to the way she dangled her little spiral. Beckoning me closer. Closer. I am not being insincere when I say I could really actually feel the beckoning. On a very deep, primal, subconscious level that beckoning is everything. It is the promise my submissive loins long for. The promise of a girl who understands her effect, dissects my weaknesses, and consumes me. As a submissive man, she offered the promise of a dream.
Of course, I have probably felt this dream before, and did not have it fulfilled, but even as a grown man, I felt trepidation, longing, and nervous sexual energy as time grew near for our first call. There it was. Her niteflirt call signal finally available at a time I was willing and able to indulge. I no doubt pressed that button.
Now I am no stranger to my own vulnerabilities. I keep only one credit card and on this particular evening I had $150 to play with. Enough to hopefully have fun for a little while and to enjoy the company of GlitterGoddess. Now, as an optimist, I guess I always expect it to go well. Still, calling a girl for the first time can be stressful. What if there is no connection? What if my hopes were up for nothing?
Time melted away on the phone. Glitter Goddess began to probe my buttons and I felt easily relaxed. Her dominant nature was intoxicating. I am sure I even told her of some of my dangerously effective weaknesses. My submissive nature was beginning to blossom under her guidance. I was smiling. I was having a good time. I was comfortable. But time was vanishing and I dutifully informed my interesting domme that I would not be in a position to extend the call.
Glitter Goddess did not seem at all upset, but she did ask me if I had ever cammed. If I had, I surely did not remember it to be special. She naturally suggested we extend the session on cam, of course, as long as I could tribute. I was instantly intrigued. Without as much as a whim, “why not?,” I thought.
It was new. It was surreal. Here I was, in bed, with my laptop, yet face to face with this amazing smile. It was nothing like I expected. It was like she was right there. I felt awkward, self-conscious, and more than that, this girl was real. She moved, she blinked and she smiled. Oh did she smile! In moments I realized she was way more than some picture and voice. She was this adorable living girl. My heart leapt. She instructed me to relax. Just kick back and hang with her. She did just that. She kicked back and stretched herself out. In all my delight, but it may have been all over for me in that moment. For my dream girl had donned the perfectly seductive outfit. Her glittering black bra accompanied only by sheer black pantyhose. My new Goddess was content to just sit back and allow her visual trap to do the rest. Her fingers played along her hips, motioned past her most private part, and sucked all the will power out of my brain.
Things sped up. They slowed down. The room spun. Time was lost. A more smitten victim there could not be. I was being entranced, intoxicated, and carefully encased. Glitter Goddess had ensnared me. She spoke of her own needs and intentions. How she longed for financial domination of a helpless man. Careful to bring my intense fetish for her pantyhose into focus as she led me with her words. Her calmness enthralled me. Her teases incapacitated my defenses. Her sharp mind allowed me room to go deeper and of course, she began training me to start sending her money.
Spasms of delight were shooting through me. I knew I was in trouble, but the pulsations of bliss bouncing all over me from the effects of this amazing woman were pure submissive heroin. I was drugged by her charms and power. Lured by her cunningness. Blinded by her smile and the way her darn fingers never stopped twittering about her pantyhose covered hips. A man could not be more smitten. Can anyone possibly imagine the trouble I was in? Could a female domme’s trap ever be more perfect?
Our fantasy talk was flowing freely now. We were both responding. Feeding off each other. Could it be? Could I have found a girl so intoxicating, so intense, that I would not be able to stop her femdom razor sharp claws from cutting me into little pieces? Even worse, every indication and every instinct I had was telling me she had no intention of holding back. Her financial domination talk was causing a fever between both of us. My own sexual urges mad with wild elation with every hint that she could steal unending power from me. Scenarios were popping up. All involving my financial downfall at the hands of my new vixen. The more I realized how wanton she was with her own needs and nature, the more flutters of brutal exhilaration burst through me. Or better yet, brutal fear.
As our fantasies unfolded, my Goddess decided she would construct for me a cage. A financial domination cage, to be exact. Complete with a warning sign she would design and post on the door. A warning sign just for me. Alerting the world that if I was ever foolish enough to enter this cage she would lock me in it. Yes, a steel and metal trap, easily and so simplistically able of holding and containing a large physical male. If the poor dumb male entered without heeding the warning, it would cost him a small fortune to get out. That was the promise of this cage. That was the covenant of this trap.
‘Come to my cage,’ she would beckon. ‘Come closer. There is no harm in taking a closer look.’ Oh the beckoning. Her evil perfection even promised the bliss of submissive delight if I would come into the cage. For inside the cage I could indulge my true fetish. I could worship her pantyhose covered ass through the bars. I felt like crying. Girls like Glitter Goddess love to inflame a poor man’s fetish, but understand the art of never letting him indulge. ‘That’s right my naked pet, into the little cage trap you go. ‘Good boy.’ I was hers. In over my head. Locked in a cage. Bound by her power and a mutual fetish. We both came to the fantasy of me being in the cage, but we both know I stepped into a metaphorical, though very real cage that night. One that does not have a buy-out and almost surely will result in my total financial ownership. I am scared but already caught, already seduced. What is a man to do but give in?”
-Hopelessly Addicted and In Love