Two hours on the train, a forty-five minute walk and an eternity in an ever spiralling queue and he was finally there. He'd waited three years to see them and spent £195 to get a good spot in the crowd - Mark had finally made it.
He'd been a fan for years, collected everthing and been obsessed with their back catalogue. His t-shirt had their logo - a bright yellow fist with OF in large unfriendly letters, pointed and styled. His hair was rough but designed, just like his favourite album cover and he had his backstage pass tightly held in his hand. His boots were rough but clean, his jeans were cheap but deceptively stylish - it's amazing what a pair of scissors and some tie-dye can do - and he was proud to be there; Alone in public. Why talk when the best conversations went on in his head? Why bother interacting when all he wanted to do was take in the band? The trial getting here had been worth it and The OF were waiting.
As the queue started to move, he heard the opening music play. It wasn't theirs, but it was similar. He'd put the pass round his neck and showed it to the skinhead doorman who ushered him to the right area - front centre, pride of place. A few other so-called fans surrounded him there but he knew he was in another league. Even amongst their worshippers, Mark was superior.
The mood changed, the lighting dipped and it began; the hits, the b-sides, album tracks and the rarities. He knew them all word for word. The two-some dominated the stage. They had a band of musicians behind them but they were righty shadowed by their excellence. Mark was pleased to see that they were dressed very similar to him - he was in their world and part of the performance and no one else mattered. At one point he could feel Tom's boot brush past his face and a whiff of sweat cascaded towards him. He'd thought so much about being near them but hadn't considered what it would be like to smell or feel their presence. Nick moved less but stared more. Mark was sure that he had stared him out a few times and whilst Tom was more physical and played with the crowd, Nick's brooding looks and earnest style captivated Mark even more. What did Nick smell like - how did Nick taste?
The gig went on - bangs and strobes, cascades of noise - and it finally reached an end. He and the other fans were ushered to the Backstage area. Mark had never been backstage anywhere and considered how normal it looked. Exciting, but normal. He was dripping with sweat having not had a drink - the bar was too far away and he didn't want to miss anything. He wiped the sweat from his forehead onto his sleave, brushed his pass, looked - he thought - awkward and then tried to compose himself. How did these backstage things work? Was it like when the Queen did her swordy thing and you just sort of said "Hi" and moved on or was it more relaxed?
The skinhead doorman stopped him before he made his way fully backstage. "Do you mind going last?" He said. "There's a few groups in and they want to get them out of the way. They'll make extra time for you at the end, more relaxed." Mark didn't hesitate in saying "No, that's fine" and it was only when he was queueing that he realised what a strange request it was.
Another queue. All of the fans lined up, ushered into a room behind a big black, paint peeled door. There must have been a dozen or so and Mark saw each one going in for a few minutes then leaving. Mostly in groups, mostly there for a laugh. He moved down the line, passing fire extinquishers and bits of set, not worrying about the train home because this was more important. If he missed the train he'd sleep on a bench or whatever.
He was at the front of the queue, heart pounding and still sweating. He wiped the sweat away again, nudged the pass again, composed himself again. 'Come on Mark, stay calm, stay cool.' The last group left the room giggling and talking about jager bombs and Biffa bins, Mark was ready to be ushered into the room when the skinhead Doorman - clearly moonlighting - went back in, leaving Mark alone in the corridor. The gentle hum of electronics and the relatively distant sound of dismantling equipment went on slightly in ear shot.
Minutes passed but they felt like years. Standing there, still, Mark thought about his life. The travel, the wait, the expectation and now look at him, stood with a fire extinquiser for company. Was this a joke and how long would he wait there?
The bottom quarter of the door opened, not outwardly but like a dumb waiter. He could see feet behind the door but they moved away shortly after it opened. Silence. Mark looked around and thought about saying something to the effect of "Hello..." but didn't. he moved forwards, then stopped, moving his head down slightly to see through the gap in the door. There was nothing to see just ahead of him and no noise. The only way for him to get through would be on his knees and to stoop down. He considered whether this was a good idea or whether he should turn away.
Music erupted from beyond the door. A song he hadn't heard but definitely by the band. His eyes widened and he moved further forward. He tried the door knob - needed painting, still clammy - and it wouldn't budge. He looked down at the gap and listened to the music, imagining 'them' playing it, imagining 'them' behind the door, lounging, smoking, relaxing. Taking a step back he decided to just do it. Mark sank to his knees - he'd paid the money, made the journey and enjoyed the show. Whatever was happening now was meant for him and he could either embrace it or walk away. Walking away was not an option.
He crawled through the door and across the painful, uneven concrete. By the time he had lifted his head he felt something around his neck - cold, metal, nicely tight - 'click'. No time to yelp, he was brought forward, he assumed by the doorman. The music was loud, all new to Mark and as much as he was loving it and wanted to take it all in, he was ever aware of his current situation. He looked up for the first time and saw Tom and Nick stood over him, staring at him. Turning to his left, as he had expected, was the doorman holding a chain. He felt something brush his arm and another, harder object smacked him lightly in the face. He looked down and a pen and paper rested near his knees. He went to pick up the paper and a boot immediately pushed his hand back down. It was Nick's. Mark looked up and Nick shook his head - that's all he needed to do. Tom crouched down next to Mark and put the pen in his hand, with force but no aggression. He smiled, reassuringly. Tom stood again and Nick moved his boot away. They both continued staring.
Mark had always been a loner, this had never bothered him and he'd always thought that to just exist and be nothing was an ideal situation - to enjoy the simplicity of not caring. In that moment, on his knees and presented with a future he'd never known he might have wanted, Mark did the only thing he could do, the only thing he wanted to do. He never looked back.
I only ask as a Londoner and a master that needs constant attention and real life interactivity. I find it very hard (excuse the pun) to make proper bonds on online only but appreciate that certain people live far away or are using this site discretely.
I want massages and foot sniffers to come to the front. Those that wish to pleasure me and let me drain them (through this website only) to grow those bonds to meet in real life. DM me and let’s take it from there.
I really didn’t want to write this, but I need to get something off my chest, and be warned, I am not going to sugar coat anything and I will tell it how it is.
Next year it will be 10 years since I set up Owned Fags.
I built this place from the ground up, on my own and to a lot of negativity and abuse from other sites and people that were around at the time thinking that they ‘owned’ the findom scene.
It took me a lot of work to get the site to where it is now, and I have spent thousands of my own money and fuck knows how much time and stress making sure that this place was a success and continues to be. Thankfully now the site pays for itself and all I need to do is keep building and innovating.
I literally never get away from this site, if I am not sat at my desk working on it then I’m looking at it on my phone while I’m out, answering emails on the go etc. I go to bed thinking to myself ‘will I wake up to any drama’, I have to plan my holidays and breaks around pay-out dates etc, it’s a lot for one person to handle.
That is why I have some mods and they help with the day-to-day tasks of moderating content which really would be a full-time job on its own if I didn’t have them, so let me please thank the mods for the great job they do because without them I really couldn’t cope.
Now, the problem I have is users that join and think they can say and do whatever the fuck they want. I’m sorry but no you can’t and no it does not suppress your ‘free speech’, you do not have free speech on a private platform. If you want to invoke your right to free speech go shout outside.
Like I said before I have invested an awful lot into this site, still do, and it is a huge part of my life. Imagine if you had to constantly read others trash talking your hard work, yourself, or other people, it would be absolutely exhausting and it would start to take a toll on you.
If you’re on a site like Facebook or Twitter, heck even Owned Fags, you can simply block someone and move on – I do not have that luxury. If someone is constantly bringing a negative vibe to my day, then I see that and I can’t escape it. So, yes, I will remove people that fuck me off and I am not sorry for that.
Think to yourself what it would be like if every day you went into work dreading how it was going to be because of a few people. You’d probably try to look for another job or move teams, right? Again, I don’t have that luxury.
Owned is only a small site with less than 4 thousand members, a small number of people can make a big difference, and if it’s a negative one then sorry you’ll be gone. I don’t care if you feel it’s unfair, that’s how it is. I am not going to spend my time having lies spread about me or having me and my site trash talked.
If we were as big as Twitter and I wasn’t the only one running the place and having to see it all the time then I probably wouldn’t take it as personally, but that’s not the case. We are a small site with a big focus on community, and if you’re acting in a way that damages that vibe then you’ll be told to go.
I’m 36 now, my tolerance for bullshit and petty games is very low, so if you’re not enjoying the site then just fucking leave, it will absolutely continue on without you. I used to be very tolerant and put up with more than I should, but that time has ended.
Now I’ve had my rant, enjoy the rest of your day 😁
"Findom mainly relies on the willingness of lesser beings - determined by diminished stature, both physical and/or mental - to give to their betters. This does not necessarily mean that these have to be the same species, in fact there are some cultures which tribute to their own waste material. Whilst this may seem reductive and rather pointless to most life forms, it does have its advantages for as the poet Monumentum V Helmstrum once said "if you can't treat your waste to fine living then why bother producing it at all?".
Interestingly Monumentum V Helmstrum died shortly after this due to chronic congestion in 9 of his 12 bowel sacks. Proof, if any be needed, that some life forms are too clever for their own good.
Where the Findosians - simple, base creatures who were willing to blindly go along with their Gods and Demi Gods - were willing to give their offspring, so many creatures in the universe have given up nearly everything just for the simple pleasure of being of use. This has had wide reaching issues across the universe and has caused many a bloody war, none so more bloody than the terrible war between the Antroxophoni and the Scoundrels of Bandtraxis Major. The Scoundrels, seven foot crab like beings with pleasingly cat like faces and pointy yellow fronds instead of eyes, are well known throughout the cosmos as the most evil, the most vile and certainly the most shouty creatures ever to have spewed forth from the foul smelling bogtroids of Sychophantic Major. Their sole purpose is to take movey, sit on it and slowly digest it through their ample osmotic tendrals. Whole galaxies have been engulfed, piliged and sat on by hordes of these monstrous beings and no one has had the time or the inclination to try and stop them, until the Antroxophoni - well known as kindly Findom sadists - decided enough was enough and they wanted the money for themselves. The guide has this to say about the Antroxophoni;
"The Antroxophoni are shape shifting creatures who, upon meeting them, would instantly change into whatever the viewer deemed as worthy of worship/sacrifice. If an Antroxophoni were to look at another Antroxophoni it would likely see itself and hand over everything it had whilst the other would do the same, leading to a pleasingly symmetrical and well balanced society of give and take. No one knows what the resting form of an Antroxophoni would like like but some have speculated that they would be small, with pockets and be nicely smooth. Some cultures have even taken this on as a ritualistic item to hold money - one such culture being the Human race. (See entry: Earth (Mostly Harmless)"
The war began with a simple infiltration of two Antroxophoni. They stood before the globulating, terrible Scounderels and were instantly set upon and sat on, as the only thing Scounderels worship is money and that is what they saw. Slowly sufficating and obsorbing, the two terrified shape shifters sent the homing beacon with a simple message of failure, thereby leading to all out war between the races. If the Scounderels would not worship the Antroxophoni and the Antroxophoni wouldn't surrender their money to the Sounderels there could be no viable solution and it led the bloodiest of wars. As giant evil crabs fell and soft small pockets of loose change exploded screaming throughout the universe onlookers could only marvel at the sheer banality of it all. Centuries upon centuries of combat, angry letters, bolistic atomizer rays, negative press and sereptitious rumours led to the complete extermination of both species and, perhaps coincidentally, a time fracture which led to a wormhole between a small vinyl shop in Dewsbury, Earth, and the homeworld of the Findosians.
(To be concluded)
The Hitch-Hikers Guide to the Galaxy has this to
say about Findom.
"Findom" it says "is scary. Like,
you may think jumping out of a plane at seventeen thousand feet with a small
thin air filled parrachute is scary, but this is nothing compared to the absolute
terror associated with Findom."
The pro-style calms down somewhat and the
allusions to other scenarios peter out but the general theme of terror and
anxiety hangs over the article like a particularly pungent, if not very
attractive, candle.
The Guide does however go into detail about the
origins of Findom, which planets and cultures have embraced it as a way of life
and where a sub can go to get a really groovy cheap haircut so that money is
saved.
The earliest recorded mention of Findom can be found
in the Ninth Dynasty Omni-Froogle Gargantuan Beta Text: Fourth Cycle. As the
text is written in ancient Gargantuan it is not possible to print it in full
here, as this would take up the entire guide and leave all readers unable to
read, think, eat asparagus or breathe for several moments. A rough translation
of the text exists however and the entry is as follows;
"Gado
rose from the pit, his torso enflamed and his sweat aglow. His people waited
for Gado in the wilderness, scared and entrailed at what he would find. The
void welcomed him and called to him in musical tones, sending effervescenct
fumes and commands only Gado could interpret. The void proclaimed itself as
Gado's Master and Gado, humbled by the sheer magnitude of what he could see,
hear and smell, did fall to his globular kneepads, his protruberances abased in
supplication and awe, and low the Findonians were formed in his image."
The Guide has this to say about Findonian
culture;
"Being as they were, entirely subsumed in
serving Gado, the Findonians had no concept of time or self. Basic Findonian
needs like food and shelter were either there or not and they lived in blissful
ignorance of whether they would live or die on a cycle by cycle basis - being
as they were, entirely unaware of what a cycle was. Even procreation just sort of happened and
when the swamp fronds spat out their offspring it was entirely possible that
one or more of the hatchilings would splatter on the alter of Gado, ready to be
sent to the void to feed his Master. What Gado didn't know and could not have
predicted was that his Master's voice was actually a tape recording of the
first telephone call made on the Planet Earth which had been sent back through
time in an unfortunate time fractured wormhole. A very disgruntled worker in a
record shop in Dewsbury, Yorkshire would often find tiny squirming creatures
amongst the records and in typical Earthling fashion would resort to the time
honoured tradition of 'having a nice cup of tea and sit down' to deal with the
infestation, little knowing that he was being worshipped as a god by a culture
long since pointlessly dead."
(to be continued)
(This is a post from my blog at gaybdsmfiction.blog)
A boy contacted me this morning and asked me, "I'm just curious here. What is ethical findom?" The boy has an established presence on Twitter as a cashslave, so he wasn't just wanting information about findom--he already knew what it was. He wanted to know how ethical findom differed from findom as it's commonly practiced on Twitter. And that struck me as a good subject for a blog post.
Findom, for those who aren't familiar with it, is the use of money as a tool for power exchange in an erotic context. A 'cashslave' or 'cashfag' will give money or presents to his 'cashmaster' as a way of expressing his inferiority to his cashmaster. While the practice is ancient--it goes back at least to ancient Greece-- in recent years it's exploded online, and a lot of people who are not particularly kinky have used it as a form of sex work to make money. This has given rise to a wide range of seriously problematic practices, such as findoms pushing their cashslaves to ruin themselves financially, blackmailing their subs into continuing a relationship against the cashslave's consent, encouraging subs to get high so they lose control of their tributing, and intentionally seeking to damage a sub's mental health, for example by making them feel that they're so pathetic that the only way anyone will pay attention to them is if they send money.
As a result, there is a burning need for the establishment of a basic standard of what is and isn't acceptable in findom play, the same way the rest of the kink community has developed standards of play (such as making informed consent the bedrock of kink play). Since I come to findom as a kink, not as a form of sex work (which, to be clear, I am not condemning), it feels absolutely natural to me to approach findom from an ethical perspective, and I'm rather appalled by some of the crap I've seen and heard about in the online findom community.
So what is ethical findom?
Ethical findom is doing findom with ethical standards intended to protect the sub's basic financial well-being and mental health.
It's helpful to look at the basics of ethical kink in general. Take impact play--using crops, canes, floggers, and so on to hurt a boy. The goal of impact play is to create hurt, not harm. I want the boy I'm beating to feel erotic pain, but I don't want to actually injure him. So I only want to beat a boy who consents to be beaten. I only want to hit him in places where it's safe to hit him. I need to provide the boy with safe words or other ways to slow down or stop the play when he feels he needs that. I need to look out for him as I beat him to make sure that I'm not potentially harming him even if he's not telling me to stop (for example, a boy being flogged may go into subspace, a euphoric state where he can no longer feel pain, which means I might be injuring him and he wouldn't use his safe word). When the scene is over, I provide him with aftercare, to help him come back from his submissive headspace (unless he indicates he doesn't want that).
The same basic standards apply to findom play. I only do play with boys who are willing to sent tribute. So things like b*******l are unethical (not to mention highly illegal), unless the boy has requested a b*******l dynamic (consensual b*******l is still legally risky for the dom, but some subs crave it).
I want my cashslave to feel the sexual charge of tributing (that might be humiliation or the thrill of talking to a hot dom or the satisfaction of serving me well), but I don't want him harming himself financially, for example finding himself unable to pay his rent or falling deeply into debt just to tribute. So unless a boy just wants a brief one-off tribute moment, I always discuss the budget he has to work with so I can stop the play when he hits the limits of his budget. If I know that he can only afford to send $100 a month, I'll stretch out the play over the course of the month, maybe only demanding $10-15 at a time. That way he can have the thrill of me pressing him to tribute but knowing he's safe because I won't push him beyond what he can afford. The focus becomes not the amount of money I'm taking but how we get there. Do I seduce it out of him? Do I humiliate and verbally abuse him? Do I use hypnotism so he feels like a literal ATM dispensing money from my "account"?
If my cashslave indicates that he's got an unexpected expense, I adjust my demands instead of trying to force him to send what he can't afford. During the Covid lockdown, I reviewed my boys' budgets and adjusted expectations accordingly. And I reassured the ones who had to sharply reduce their tributing that they were still important to me and continued to chat with them without taking tribute, or taking only very nominal tributes. One of my most memorable sessions involved taking half an hour to demand $1; the boy literally got so worked up that he spontaneously orgasmed hands-free when I finally allowed him to send it.
I provide aftercare. Literal aftercare usually involves cuddling and things like that, but obviously that doesn't work very well online. So my version of aftercare is simply talking to the boy after the tribute is over, demonstrating that I care about him as a human being and not simply as a wallet. When my boys are feeling frustrated or scared or angry about something in their lives, I listen to them and offer support and advice. I often ask them about their goals in life and then start pushing them to meet their goals. One of my boys recently expressed interest in setting up his own business--basically taking what he did professionally and doing it more as a freelancer than for a company. So I asked him what the first steps in that process were and then told him that I would be expecting a progress update in a few weeks. I had another boy who wanted to lose weight, so I ordered him to tribute me the cost of the coffee-drinks he said he was consuming too often, helping him reduce his calorie intake. Since subs are generally eager to please their doms, that allows me to help encourage them to achieve their goals.
In other words, I try to build a dynamic that fits my needs and my cashslave's needs and makes him feel valued and cared about. I seek to be more than a financial parasite, helping the boy grow not just as a cashslave but as a human being. Of course, every boy is different in terms of what he wants and, in my opinion, what he needs. One of my boys likes to do 'silent sending', where I don't acknowledge it when he sends money to my account. It makes him feel small and unobtrusive, which feels right for him. But I make sure that every couple weeks I reach out to him and demonstrate that I do see his tribute. When he sends gifts, I always post them on Twitter.
In my mind, ethics are what separates findom for ruthless exploitation of a sub. As a superior man, it's my job to let a sub explore and indulge his desires while protecting them from the more destructive tendencies they can often have. It's common for subs to fantasize about financial ruin, so I'll sometimes incorporate the idea into a scene, boasting about how greedy I am and how badly I'm going to ruin them, but that's the findom equivalent of a sadistic dom boasting about how much pain his masochist is going to be in. I enjoy letting a boy worship my greed, the same way I enjoy letting my cruel urges come out during a humiliation or pain play scene, but as a dom, it's my job to know how to restrain those urges so I don't actually cause harm with them.
I've had a couple of boys who had the resources to tribute very substantially, and we've discussed ways for the sub to sacrifice for me, for example by cooking at home and not going out to an expensive dinner so the boy can send the money he would have spent at the restaurant. But I've always made it clear that there are limits to what I'll allow the boy to send, and when I discuss budgets I always make sure the budget includes money for savings and money to buy friends birthday presents and so on.
Obviously there are ethical grey areas in findom, just as there are in other aspects of the kink scene. Another findom might draw his ethical line a bit more broadly or a bit more tightly than I do. There are ethical questions about the use of intoxicants during play, about things like consensual b*******l, about what sorts of things a cashslave should or shouldn't be willing to sacrifice, about how much he should let his tributing restrict his socializing, and so on. These are issues that each findom has to resolve for himself and on a case-by-case basis with each boy. But I think the broad outlines of ethical findom are fairly easy to discern once the findom starts thinking about them. And I think the parallel with other forms of kink play is extremely important, because it allows us to isolate the ethical issues for consideration.
The discussion about ethical findom is still, I'm afraid, in its early stages. The idea that ethical findom is an actual thing is not as wide-spread as it should be (which is one reason this kink has such a bad reputation among those not in the scene). There isn't a consensus yet among ethical findoms about what the basic standards are, although I know it when I see it. So if you're in this scene, I definitely want to hear from you. Feel free to post in the comments! And look for the #ethicalfindom hashtag on Twitter.
When I'm useless, stupid and dumb, more so than now
Will you still drenching me in urine
Constant beatings, Scum maligned
If I can't get up from broken knees
Will you kick my jaw?
Will you still use me? Will you abuse me when I'm Scumty 4?
I could be handy as a doorstop
Or a draught excluder
You can kick your feet up on my back
Press down hard until I crack
Taking the pension and make be poor
What Reek could ask for more?
Will you still use me? Will you abuse me when I'm Scumty 4?
Well, I crawl from my pit and grovel to the ktichen
Slouch through town with zero ambition
Fawn and crouch and give up all my time
No time to shower and no dry humping
Out on the sreet the people are clumping
With slaves like me on the job doing overtime
Working overtime, so my Masters can keep taking
Barely getting by, so that they're luxuriating
They just use my mind and then push me to the limit
It's enough to make you horny if you let it
Working overtime, i've got nothing left to fight for
Barely scraping by, just so my King's can reep my
rewards
Wouldn't change my life, it's a pleasure just
subsisiting
Begging all day just to send and be their plaything
I've got my dreams and they're all brimming
With they're feet and they keep winning
The moment's gone to run and hide away
I'm in the the same boat as a lot of subs
Working hard so I can pay up
The tide won't turn and we're all owned always
Working overtime, all the hours permittied
It feels so right to be programmed and committed
The days are long and the nights are dark and lonely
But that's a price worth paying for my Masters to own
me
Working overtime, so my Masters can keep taking
Barely getting by, so that they're luxuriating
They just use my mind and then push me to the limit
It's enough to make you horny if you let it
I had to spend Wed, Fri and Saturday nights by court order at my father's house with his new improved family. My two step-brothers slept in bunk beds, hung one next to my sleeping bag on the floor (for 6 years. Can you believe that, he never bought us beds.) Anyway I was on the floor next to my brother and me on the floor like a dog. That's where I think it from, that and him making me beg for that boner of his. He had a really perverted mind, the tings he would think up, while our parents were occupied with other things. His timing down in my throat was always a favorite. Wish i remembered more of the games.
I’ve been off for a while primarily due to illness. No, not Covid or anything similar; just a chronic illness I struggle with from time to time. Secondly, some of these fags on here have been reaching out to me on my kik and telegram accounts. I had no immediate need to log in. That said, I want it expressly understood that if I just ignored you completely: you are being punished. I punish by indifference and negligence. You mean nothing to me, only what you can do for me.
In another announcement from me, my kik is no longer active. It has been bugged for some time now and refuses to let me see let alone respond to new messages. I will adjust my profile accordingly but I suggest that should you wish to contact me offsite you use my telegram @richlandchub
Owned Fags is a male only site which deals with adult themes
You should only view this site if you are over the age of 18, male and are not easily offended.
