Findom Challenge Ch 03 1

A very good writer here, DannyEight, starts his stories with some warnings. I've copied one of his warnings here, it also applies to my story:

Please DO NOT read any further if you do not enjoy fictional stories in which males submit to dominant females, either willingly, forcibly, or by coercion.

I'll also add one more warning of my own:

⚠️

Please DO NOT read if you are fussy about perfect English, which is not my first language!

Here are links to the first two chapters of this story:

https://literotica.com/s/findom-challenge-ch-01

https://literotica.com/s/findom-challenge-ch-02

Like those two chapters, the only explicit scenes in this chapter are between me and another woman, which I know from my video sales is hot for both men and women! My relationship with men is always dominant, and it's always mental domination, never BDSM or anything like that.

This chapter has less findom than the last two chapters, at least in the beginning. It's more about my relationship with Gemma, a submissive woman who I trained to become a findomme. But later the chapter has more findom again, so you addicts will be happy! 🤑🤑

* * * * *

Cam models, especially fetish models, who are starting out sometimes rent a studio for their streaming sessions and photo-shoots. These studios are really more like porn film production companies, and often they exploit the models, taking a cut of their earnings; and they tell them how to dress, or how to behave in front of the camera. The models become almost like paid actors. But those studios have good camera operators and technicians to make things look professional, so it's worth it, sometimes.

I never wanted to be part of a studio setup like that; I must be fully in charge of everything. So from the start I always streamed from my apartment, or sometimes from my local park when I was out running or doing yoga. And it worked well, because when people could see my actual bedroom or kitchen, for example, it made it very natural, and I became like a "real person" to them.

When I became successful and bought my big house, I set up my own studio there; I installed ultra-fast Internet, and I bought high-quality lighting and recording equipment. I had a team of four people working for me, some of whom I paid, some just did it because they adored me.

I used a great videographer who was also a photographer, and a woman who was skilled with makeup and had worked on feature films, a tech/network person who also set up the security system for my house, and a guy who helped me write the scripts for my videos.

My house has a gym and both indoor and outdoor pools, which, besides being great locations for my videos, were also where I would work on keeping my body perfect. So I guess I should also include my physio/personal trainer and the pool cleaner as part of my team 😁

So, really, I was not just a findomme; I was a business! And I took my business very seriously. But it had become a bit boring for me. So, as I told you in the first two chapters of this story, out of boredom, I challenged myself to ruin a complete stranger, who I met by chance in a park in London. It was easy: Using my hot looks and my skills in neurolinguistic programming, I quickly and easily seduced the man, Dave. I was now completely dominating both him and his wife Gemma.

Dave was totally enslaved, sending me tributes whenever I demanded them. I stopped using my fan site with him, and switched to WhatsApp, because that way I could message him any time, and the fan site wouldn't take commission from the tributes. I began to message Dave more and more, sometimes three times a day, never giving him any respite. I would do it at random times of the day or night.

I completely dispensed with any "small-talk", usually saying just one or two words, and always, my first word to him was a command to tribute me, which he knew he must respond to instantly, even if was the middle of the night and it had woken him up (of course, he was required to have his phone off silent and always with him and charged up).

Here is an example, which I sent at 3 AM:

🔺

tribute

yes goddess, done

🔻

🔺

how much

500 goddess

🔻

🔺

good boy

🔺

stroke and say aloud: thank you goddess until you cum

After he sent me a tribute, sometimes I would message him back, like that example, telling him that he was a good boy and he could jerk off as a reward; but sometimes I would do the opposite, and demand further tributes instead, like this example:

🔺

send 500

yes goddess, done

🔻

🔺

more

yes gofdess

🔻

did it send?

🔻

🔺

yes send again slave, 500

Or maybe I would just tell him to send, and then ignore him until the next time:

🔺

tribute me

yes goddess, i sent 500

🔻

did it send

🔻

goddess

🔻

please goddess what do u want me to do now goddess

🔻

He could never anticipate what time of day I was going to message him, or which way I would respond to him; that way he was always "sensitised" to me; his addiction to me was always maintained. He was now sending more than €5,000 a week, which put him into the top tier of my slaves -- one of my "super slaves".

As for Gemma, his wife, I brought her back to my home after my vacation was over, to keep as a pet. A pampered pet! Even though she'd been with a rich man, Gemma had never really been spoiled by Dave, because he was mean. I was very different; she travelled first class on the plane with me, which I couldn't believe was her first time in first class.

And when she arrived at my place, I could really share my lavish lifestyle with her. It was a shock to her when she arrived, to see a man with a gun greet us when the taxi dropped us at my home. He was Julian, who was part of the security team for all the houses in the area, but he was more dedicated to me than to my neighbours, because I was nice to him, and also, of course, because he had fallen under my spell.

I took Gemma out to some cool clubs, and to the beach, and to restaurants, and she met some of my friends. I'd missed driving my favourite car, my McLaren Artura. I drove the two of us up into the beautiful mountains for a picnic one day. She was scared when we raced up the mountain roads with its hairpin bends -- I drive very fast.

She felt, I think, that being with me was like a crazy vacation, and that she would soon return to reality in London, to face an uncertain future alone. I could see in her face that she was worried and confused about her future life, now that she realised that she wouldn't be with Dave any more. But I had already planned her future for her. She was going to belong to me completely, and work as a findomme. Crazy plan, to make her my submissive pet and at the same time to train her to be a domme!

My constant need to challenge myself was my motivation to train Gemma in financial domination. And I knew it would an even harder challenge than turning her arrogant, dominant husband Dave into a slave. And as you will see, it was indeed difficult, but, as always with me in every challenge I set myself, I succeeded.

* * * * *

By the time we'd spent two weeks at my place, Gemma's skin had turned a nice golden colour. We would have breakfast outside in my garden, which my maid Maria would prepare for us. Gemma still didn't really know me very well, but she was starting to learn about me. I think she was surprised that I had so many books in my library, she didn't expect me to be so intellectual! And although my English isn't great, I do speak four other languages fluently. My university degree is in property management-- can you believe it, I was planning on a career where I would need to wear a hard hat and a yellow high-vis jacket, and inspect drains and building foundations, before I decided to become a findomme and wear sheer nylons and heels instead!

Gemma was not really very intelligent -- she was not quite a "dumb blonde", but she was a little slow. Even her vocabulary in English wasn't much better than mine. I didn't mind it, we can't all be Einsteins, but I guessed it would make her harder to train. While we chatted by the pool, in the back of my mind I tried to figure out the best way to train her and to market her.

Marketing her was simpler: Online models need to have a photo on fan sites that makes people quickly click. Her face alone was sexy enough for that to happen. But she needed some work on her body, mainly her muscle definition, before she could really have a great clip collection.

But it was her voice that was actually her greatest asset. It was feminine, soothing and gentle, perfect for ASMR, or, as I finally decided, for erotic hypnosis.

I'd made some hypnosis videos myself, which sold well. And the guy who wrote the scripts for them was always sending me new ones. He paid me to make them custom for him, and always hoped that I'd use his name, Jamie, in them, but I never did -- I wanted to be able to resell them to my other slaves, and I knew it would annoy them to hear the name "Jamie" in the videos, unless they were also "Jamies"!

I messaged my videographer Carla to come to my place and do a "screen-test" of Gemma in my studio reading out one of Jamie's hypnosis scripts. This is some of it:

Your eyelids are so heavy now... so, so heavy... soon I will let you close them, but not yet... I want you to keep looking at my lips, and focus all your attention on my words... and now it feels that all there is in the whole world is my voice, and my lips... it feels nice, doesn't it? Safe, relaxed... no need to think, just watching, breathing slowly and deeply... listening to my voice...

...when I say the word 'drop' and snap my fingers, you will close your eyes, and be under my complete control. I will then give you your instructions, which you will follow immediately and without question, no matter how silly or ridiculous they sound....

Carla zoomed the camera in on Gemma's full, soft lips, as she read from the autocue. Gemma started out well, but then she had a fit of giggling, and then it infected me and Carla too, so we stopped for a break. After a few takes we had a reasonable video. Carla immediately started on post-production, adding effects and music. Gemma and I left her to finish, and went back into the garden, and swam in my cool, clean swimming pool. While we were drying off sunbathing, naked, we saw that my gardener Keith was at the far end of the garden, planting border flowers.

Keith was weak for me, and used to be a slave of mine, and if I'd wanted to, I could have made him work for me for free, but I paid him properly, because he had a wife and a baby, and they needed money. He was English, but his wife was from my country. I always spoke to him in English, which he enjoyed, I think he missed speaking English to people.

I called him over to introduce Gemma to him. He was shy to look at my naked body, even though he'd seen me sunbathe naked many times. I teased him, telling him that he needed to look at my body without averting his eyes. "It will help you in your marriage, making you stronger against temptation to be unfaithful to your wife. If you can look and resist, you'll stay happily married for ever," I laughed.

Gemma was also shy, and quickly covered herself with a towel as he approached.

"This is Keith," I said. "And this is Goddess Sapphire. She's English, like you," I announced. I'd already thought up that model name for Gemma, but hadn't mentioned it to her before. She looked at me, quizzically, but I ignored her.

"Hello, Goddess," said Keith, grinning.

"Kiss her feet, Keith. She likes that." Gemma quickly drew up her feet along the lounger, recoiling.

Keith looked at me uncertainly, because it was clear from Gemma's body language that she didn't want him to kiss her feet.

"Let him do it, Gemma," I told her, "he's used to it. It's how we met. He used to visit my fan page before he was married and jerk off to my feet. He was my foot slut."

"Weren't you, Keith?" I looked up at him, not even bothering to mention the erection he now had, which was visible under his jeans.

"Yes, yes... I was." said Keith.

I continued, "But after he married, I hired him as my gardener. I banned him from my site, and told him he has to now worship only his wife's feet instead."

I laughed at how much I was embarrassing both of them. But I did it for a reason: making Keith kiss Gemma's feet was part of my plan to get her used to being worshipped. "Go on, Keith," I said, "she has such lovely feet..."

When Gemma saw that I wasn't playing, but was giving both of them a real order, she obeyed me, and stretched out one leg reluctantly, clutching the towel over her breasts protectively, and making a slightly disgusted face. Keith went to his hands and knees and kissed her toes, gently, and without touching her foot with anything except his lips. Gemma giggled, and then said, "Sorry, that tickled."

"Apologise to Goddess Sapphire, Keith, for kissing her toes badly. It shouldn't tickle, you need more practice."

"I apologise, Goddess," said Keith.

"That's okay, actually, I sort of liked it, even though it tickled." I looked at Gemma after she said that, to check if she meant it, and to my satisfaction it seemed that she really did mean it. She'd enjoyed this little act of worship. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to train her after all.

I decided to remind Keith about his family, to stop him relapsing into his old ways. "How is Claudia and the baby?" I asked him. "Did you all come and use the pool while I was away?"

"Yes we did, thank you so much, Goddess -- I mean Bella," said Keith. He corrected himself because he remembered that I didn't allow him to call me "Goddess" anymore.

"Good. Now leave us and go back to work. The flowers look great."

"Thanks. They're

salvia

. They'll need a lot of watering."

"So I expect to see you here every day."

"Yes, you will." He looked at Gemma, and said, "Nice to meet you, Goddess Sapphire."

After he left, I said to Gemma, "He's good-looking, isn't he?"

Gemma lifted her sunglasses and looked across at him. "Yes. He really is..." and then she laughed.

"Do you want him to fuck you? Or maybe just suck on your toes, and slowly move up your leg, kissing first your calf, your thigh, and then...?"

"Bella!" said Gemma, shocked.

"You should see his torso when he takes his tee shirt off; He's really ripped, Gemma. And his sweaty armpits smell so sexy after he's been working all day."

"Bella, please..."

"And his stubble would feel so wonderful on the inside of your thighs..."

"Please, stop," laughed Gemma. I saw that her hand had gone involuntarily to her groin.

But I didn't stop: "Because, you know, Gemma, you can have him just like-" -- I snapped my fingers -- "-

that

, if you want. Get used to it. Get used to the power."

I rubbed her thigh, higher and higher, pushing the towel up, and reached between her legs, my little finger barely touching her pussy lips. "You can have anything you want..." Gemma squirmed, and looked like she was going to orgasm right there and then, but I pulled my hand away quickly and said, "Okay, time to get some muscle on those thighs: Into the gym with you, and I'm raising the weight to fifteen Kg!"

I grabbed her wrists and pulled her up off the lounger. The towel dropped to the ground. Keith turned to watch us, walking naked hand in hand back into the house.

I enjoyed teasing Gemma about Keith, but I wasn't actually going to let them do anything together. I liked both Keith and his wife, and would never let him go with another woman behind her back. I don't mind wrecking an unhappy marriage, but not a happy one, especially one with a baby. And besides he was a good gardener, I didn't want to lose him!

* * * * *

Back when we were in London I'd shown Gemma how my fan page chat sessions worked, and had even let Gemma type some messages on my behalf. She'd found it exciting, so much so that she'd told me she immediately afterwards that she wanted to become a findomme too. At the time I thought it was a ridiculous idea, but not anymore: Now it was something I was determined to do. What she still didn't understand, is that first of all, being dominant was something she had to practice in real life, until it became natural for her. Everything you say in a chat has to assert your dominance, and unless it's natural for you, you will slip up.

While we worked out in the gym, I spoke to her:

"My Chinese animal is the tiger. It suits me," I said. "I'm like a cat, cool, selfish and aloof. You're born in the year of the ox."

"Thanks a lot -- for calling me -- a -- cow," grunted Gemma as she pushed up the bar. As I warned her, I loaded 15Kg on it and she really struggled with it.

"Well, you're not a cow, or an ox, but you have a certain nature you were born with. You will learn how to use that nature to control men."

I went on, "It's also a question of looks, and using them to your best advantage. Your assets are your gorgeous face, and your legs -- once you've put some more muscle on them."

Gemma dropped the weight down on the mat, and it bounced and rolled until she stopped it with her foot. She took a long swig from a water bottle. I watched her long neck as she gulped, shiny with her sweat. It was covered in love-bites, which I'd given her. She got crazy horny when I acted like a vampire and sucked her neck. It was part of her submissive nature, and looking at all those love bites annoyed me, because a real domme wouldn't have all those love bites: She'd be like me, giving them, not receiving them. And now I'd have to wait more than a week before they disappeared from her neck and I could get Carla to take some great photos of her for her fan page.

Maybe because I was angry and felt spiteful, I decided to punish her: I continued, "I was disappointed in you earlier."

"Why? Because I got the giggles when Keith-"

"-No. Because you covered yourself up with a towel. So from now on, you have to stay naked the whole time. Take off your tee shirt, and your shorts. Now."

Gemma obeyed me. "Good," I said. "Now go outside onto the road, and fetch my book which I left in the AMG. I'll unlock it for you."

"Bella, please, I get it, you want me to be more comfortable about exposing my body in public. But you don't need to punish me this way."

"Go."

I went up onto the roof terrace and watched Gemma below me, as she walked out of the house, looking anxiously along the road to see if anyone was around. When she tried to open the door of my car, she couldn't. She looked up at me, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, and called out, "It's locked!"

"Wait there," I commanded. I went downstairs and picked up my beach bag and keys, and joined her by the car. I unlocked the car and told her to get in.

"Where are we going?"

"To the beach."

Gemma leaned back in her seat and asked, "Did you put my swimsuit in the bag?" She already knew what my answer was going to be:

"No." I rested my hand on her bare leg.

"Shut the windows, please, I want to put the aircon on, it's boiling in here." She knew that because the car had darkened windows, she would be invisible if I did that. Instead I lowered the roof of the car, so her nakedness was even more exposed. And I chose a route to the beach that went right through the busiest part of town. She lowered her seat back and lay down, but I pressed a button to make her seat upright again. She didn't bother to start a fight over it, because she knew I would win, and so she endured the stares from passing drivers, cyclists, and passengers in the buses we passed, who pointed and laughed.