The first true finsub who dropped into my DMs wanted me to drain him. Be ruthless, he told me. Take it all.
It was hot as hell.
We talked about boundaries. I shared my hard limits. And I knew immediately that it wasn’t a fit.
So I said no.
No to the money. No to the teasing game of it. No to what would have been my first drain session.
I said no because it was what I wanted.
And that was hot as hell too.
The power. The rush. Saying no, I will not take your money. No, I don’t need it. No, what I want is what matters here. My boundaries are my power. My power is non-negotiable. And I will not trade it.
Because the money was never the point.
The power exchange is.
The worship is.
My authenticity is.
And if I play a game with you, you will know that it is because I want to.
I am curious. Or I am excited. Or I am aroused. Or I am exploring.
The moment I don’t want to be there, I won’t.
Your money does not mean you’re in charge. It does not give you power over a goddess. It does not mean you call the shots.
It is worship. It is devotion. It is a gift given freely. It is sacrifice in the presence of authenticity.
Taking it excites me, but so does turning it down.
You wanted to worship. But I set the rules.