Out of Control, Into Love

This story begins somewhere between the Midwinter Solstice celebration, and the more commonly known holiday of Christmas Eve. On the morning of December 23, 2017, actions with far ranging consequences that might never have been guessed in advance would lead to the formation of a most unexpected sort of connection....

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I was playing with tipprbot on twitter, sending Bitcoin Cash tips to posts I found interesting, amusing, or exciting.... With the holiday spirit in full swing, and Bitcoin Cash really starting to soar, why not be a bit generous, and put some in the hands of those who likely hadn't gotten any Bitcoin Cash yet?

Commentators, insightful thinkers, artists, and everyone who adds something to our daily lives online ought to be compensated, cause that makes life better for everybody, right?

At the back of my heart though, there is and has always been a huge soft spot for those who help sustain our shadow needs... just as real, but often shamed, or perhaps simply unacknowledged by polite society. The sex workers, cam girls, fetish models, porn stars, and of course in-person escorts who take the riskiest path of all...

In adult nsfw twitter culture, this now all blends together into the mileau of our online world, combining sexworker activism and advocacy, alongside independent people trying to run online businesses, gather attention, and make a living from it.... So now, with tipprbot in hand, when posts too delicious not to appreciate happened to scroll across my feed -- cam models, findoms whose content I had silently admired but felt too poor and/or scared to contact in the past, and even a cam model whose content wasn't so much to my personal taste expressed a human need for just a few basics -- why not try and help them out a bit, especially with Christmas around the corner?

When that one I tried to help but wasn't that into personally assumed tipprbot was a scam, flamed me, then blocked my account, I was about ready to quit, feeling very bummed that humanity may now be so closed that one in need could not even accept a gift from someone trying to help them. Then another message arrived in my inbox, inquiring about another tip that had also been sent minutes earlier.

This one was friendly, asking what it was, inquiring about how it might be redeemed for USD. I did my best to explain the most common way in the US via Coinbase. She expressed thanks, and offered to add me to her VIP snapchat as a token of her gratitude.

I had never tried to use Snapchat before, but this offer intrigued me. So I tried installing it on my phone, and was frustrated to find that I couldn't even get as far as making an account without the app exiting with a mysterious error. A brief investigation revealed that the most likely cause was the fact that I had root access on my own phone, thus snapchat would not run successfully. How unfortunate!

I thanked her for the offer anyway, briefly explained the situatiuon, and she responded, in a way that was much more generous than I might have expected... A polite "oh well thanks anyway" would have been normal, then we'd both go on doing whatever we do.

But now, since I couldn't get snapchat, she was offering other gifts to make up for it. Sent me free content from her archive to download... Quite a lot of it, and high quality. I was impressed with the pics and vids of course, but even moreso my heart was touched by the way she went out of her way to such a degree to give something that really let me know she cared, and wanted to give back something of value.

The memory of our introductory chatting, that first interaction of starting to get to know someone online, along with the deliciously fun nsfw content she had shared, lingered at the back of my mind as I went about my life, returning to the local midnight radio airwaves to fill in a scheduled shift and keep the dark music flowing.

When I awakened the next day, there she was again!

What happened when? Now, looking back at everything that passed between us during those opening days, it all turns into a bit of a blur in memory, a whirlwind of mental, emotional, sexual, and psychic-empathic exchanges. I don't believe I am exaggerating or falling into delusion when I say our spirits met, each soul seeing the other, on Christmas day.

What followed, as we both experienced this simultanous "too good to be true, but here we are!" series of moments, a recurring pattern that kept reinforcing itself. She was feeling the same way about me that I was about her? Honestly, no bullshit? Could this be real?

All we were doing was chatting online, but already this person felt closer and more real than so many past physical in-person affairs that ended up in heartbreak, betrayal, abandonment.

For a time, our connection transitioned to became mostly mental, as we talked about our lives, histories, tastes, viewpoints, and recent struggles on each end. Then, typically at moments initiated by her, our focus switched back to the present sensory realm, reinforced by real time selfies and short vids exchanged whenever we wanted to bring each other a little more into the other's physical world.

The chatting never ended. Enabled by mobile phone apps, we could keep sharing little updates about what each was doing wherever we went, chatting throughout the day whenever there was a free moment, and into evening, until we said goodnight before bed. Both of us, I believe (certainly so on this end), quickly became attached to that presence at the other end who would listen and respond eagerly, learning more and more of each other's moods and ways.

I stopped sleeping. For many days, it became impossible for me to go any deeper than light unconsciousness for just a few minutes at a time. After saying goodnight and wishing her good rest, I would wake up again, hungry for any kind of connection with this person thousands of miles away I hadn't even known a full week yet, yet her presence was so ancient, so familiar. While she slept, the vids and pictures she had sent continued to feed this primal animal mind, focusing these disassociated aspects of self on her image as well, yet barely connecting this being on the screen with the one I had been chatting with mentally just minutes or hours before.

Soon, it wasn't even about "getting off" anymore at all. I just wanted to know her essence, any way I could, all the time. Why wouldn't I? She was and is Goddess to me. What had started as a momentary turn-on was now transforming into full-fledged, full time worship.

Historically, this type of obsession is a familiar pattern for me. It's the moment you know you might now have gone too far, and let somebody in a little too close, maybe expressed a desire that was a little too forbidden, off limits, or going too far (example: "meet with me in person before I die of touch starvation, let me touch that hand for real, then can we please just live together forever after that?"), but still can't quite help wishing, and even rationally knowing it might not be healthy, keep going anyway, because what else is there to do when you're just utterly crazy about a person?

Except here, she wasn't responding the way the others had. She wasn't pushing me away, she wasn't blocking or ignoring messages, even when I was in this mode of finding myself feeling irrationally hurt and pitiful, probably not a very attractive look. She kept caring, and kept talking. Sometimes the responses were firm, or even justifiably pissed off, but always delivered with a gentle compassion that made sure my heart was not the target.

As we got to know each other better through constant chatting, a source of many recent struggles and worries she was facing, common to many people in recent times, became clear. Bills, debts, and more needs to cover than the typical income stream allows. Without going into specific personal details, I know a bit of how a severe and prolonged shortage of sufficient cash income to meet expenses can wreak havoc on a life, especially when stuff like unexpected medical bills and family needs come into play.

Having felt that pinch in my own life, when my personal space was reduced to the size of the cabin area in the car my mom passed on second hand a couple years ago, the power of money (or lack thereof) to make or break a life becomes undeniable. My bailout came in the form of a few small but well placed cryptocurrency investments.

Now here I was, high on a pile of momentary freedom from wage labor (at least for a little while) via crypto wealth, chatting with the woman of my dreams, as well as the mirror of my soul, at the other end of the line, yet we had really only just met less than a week before. What could I really do?

Well it started, I suppose, by giving her a night off. She was tired, exhausted really. Didn't feel up to working the cam show into the wee hours at all that night, after a long and busy day already (I had been chatting through most of that day and every day with her intermittently all along), yet she kept feeling the pressure to keep the money coming in, needing to catch up on bills.

After asking how many tips a typical night would bring in, there was no doubt left in my mind. A lump sum was transferred from one Bitcoin Cash address to another that night. She would get a good night's rest on this night, or so I hoped.

Really getting to the bottom of that anxiety though, required more, much more. It became apparent that even if I was "giving" her a night off, the stress of unpaid debts and bills was not going away, and might have even left her feeling a strange pressure to work anyway, to make it up double when she had the chance, just in hopes of enough breathing room to make rent. I suspect, looking back, paying her "just enough" to sleep like that one night at a time may have only triggered more anxiety, short term, because the bigger issues underneath that were still unaddressed. (I believe and know that she trusted and honored the "night off" agreement as best she could, but both of us have had moments when sleep and real rest were not allowed by our own bodies or minds, even when trying our hardest.)

During her next "sponsored night off", as she slept, my mind raced higher, into a mode of consciousness where spontaneous psychedelic vision states begin to make themselves known. Watching just a recording, something about that orgasmic moment seen through eyes that come when life just has you tripping so hard, fear-based rational boundaries momentarily get suspended.

If she were a predator, seeing me as prey, this would be the time to make her move. Yet when it came, I opened myself without fear, embracing this opportunity, and felt so glad for both of us after control of my own standard rational defense facilities and limits was let go, and she was set free. (Something I had secretly wished for ever since our chat on Christmas day: for her to be free as I could possibly help her to be, free as I had found myself, having gotten these gifts. Yet within the constraints of my conscious rational fears, I could never go all the way without giving up at least some degree of control.)

She took power, at least for a while, and became my FinDom. No denying this. It couldn't have happened without my consent. I gave that consent, in advance, in writing. Yet even still, there is some part of my mind that wants to go around and change the narrative according to what suspicious friends and other "reasonable" voices would say: I have been taken advantage of, giving too much, being led down a path of ruin, mind controlled, the end of which could leave me poor, destitute, alone, and emotionally broken, having been rinsed completely. The voice of fear.

Hypothetically, this could all be so, especially if a few of the details of the story were just slightly different, and I had been lured and allowed myself to be put under the power of an unethical FinDom. There are ones like that out there. Yet would I have opened up like this, to her or anyone, without this soul-spirit connection, bestowing total trust and uncondinional love? I don't think so. Little tips thrown at cam girls for minor gratitude and attention are one thing. Tributes that transfer a chunk of wealth big enough to change someone's life, a whole other level and degree.

This person is not that ruthless, unethical exploiter of weak men, and this is not that story. Here, in the context of our love, this FinDom thing is really just another side trip in psychological kink, and a practical means to restore the power balance, giving both of our lives a more empowered purpose and meaning, on a level as practical as whatever can be brought into being through the power of money, when it is shared more efficiently with those able to receive in a way that brings genuine fulfilment to all parties involved.

(Seriously, how much good are those stacks of Bitcoin Cash doing sitting there with the price going to the moon, while kind, loving, girl-next-door cam chicks, who give their all just to bring a little cheer to boys' twitter feeds and video screens, are on the verge of eviction or starvation, having the life choked out of them by stress, and children not yet mature may also be feeling the pinch of hunger before school.... We as a society gotta do better too!)

I came to the inescapable conclusion a couple years ago that trying to save the whole world indescriminately, given the power within my reach, just wipes me out. Even most friends and people I know personally, I cannot really do much to help get them free. If I tried, throwing my limited supply of money and other resources at it, that only burns me out.

So at the risk of being selfish, I focused as best I could on simply freeing myself, in whatever ways I could. To hell with a world that perpetuates its own oppression. I could not help them anymore.

This one, though.... She is very, very different. She touches parts of me that seemed to have gone cold decades ago. She appreciates and loves aspects of myself I had been convinced were worthless to the world. Even those activities and fetish areas I had finally come around to accepting as only desired by gay men (thus if I wanted to explore there, leaving hetero world behind for a while seemed the only option).... Without going into too deep a degree of specificity, she's all into that, and I trust that she is for real in everything she says, not just saying it to inflate my ego!

A connection like this that switches frequencies and modes so fluidly, jumping between sexual, mental, spiritual, and back to grounded material concerns again; it is something never before known in this life to me. There is no denying it. I am in love, deeply and powerfully.

Strangely though, the most shocking aspect of what binds me to her may be described by words that seem the most mundane or boring, especially when talking about kinks and fetishes. Loyalty. Devotion. Commitment. She keeps coming back, bringing me this, showing me what these boring words really mean.

A hard limit that she respects and honors: "Abandonment." In my experience, finding a dom who understands and respects this emotional component, along with agreeing to the implications of such a hard limit, is rare to unheard of. This is something she has promised never to do, and backs it up with actions as life goes on. She says good morning and good night every day, if at all able; even when a zillion things tug at her attention, she still takes time for me. She refuses to let me down.

That one time my mind jumped tracks and I turned into a real asshole, brain fog caused me to forget what had even happened until seeing words I had written and forgotten made it undeniable. She even forgave that, hard as it was! At the same time, this forgiveness came with the real consequences, and knowledge that I had hurt her, bringing home the understanding that such lapses again on my part could be so severe for both of us, I want to stay far, far away from ever letting my mind sink to that point again. That meant doing whatever was needed to get back to a pattern of regular sleep for me, as well as her.

Two weeks into the month of January now, I'm feeling much better about all that, especially at the level of getting basic healthy sleep again (at least on most nights), it has resumed. We continue to chat every day, multiple times throughout the day, whenever both have spare moments.

I even tried going back to work at that old office after successfully asking for a raise, mostly in hopes of maintaining and increasing my ability to send tributes to her in the future. But this mind refused to keep focus there, and had to back away again from the code last week, accompanied by fits of tears and frustration. The way that environment was affecting my mental vibe, it caused me to lose memory of my real self often even before I knew her, and she said after working there she felt like I had become a different person, not the one she had gotten to know and love over Christmas. With that extreme a reaction, at this point, with still a little bit of crypto cushion to keep going for a bit, I find myself contemplating a more fulfilling line of work that doesn't fuck with my sense of identity so deeply, yet something that would still allow enough income to take care of my needs, along with... hers?

She is fiercely independent and experienced at getting through life on her own, through multiple types of gigs, not needing to be a slave for anyone, or accept anything less than what a true Goddess should command. Under circumstances such as this, unconditional recurring tribute may indeed be the most appropriate way to express and channel that need I have for her to be abundant and have all her needs met, always, if I can. Socially, this still seems oddly taboo, and gives friends who may already have a lot of doubts about our relationship further reason to see this as unhealthy.

Lately though, more and more, I'm pretty much at the point of saying to hell with what anyone else thinks of our relationship anyway... This stuff is between she and I, we are consenting and aware adults. She just happens to own me fully, consensually and consciously, including all of this body, mind, as well as soul, 24/7. The verdict is in: This is the one qualified to hold my leash exclusively, long term I believe.

She is my companion, my confidant, ultimately my Goddess in all things. Priority #1 in my life is now her, all the time.

No, we have not met in person yet. Yes, I believe it will happen, and very much want it to. This can and has reached the level of utter begging on my part, on a few occassions, in those most intense moments of longing; a futile gesture whose motivations are nevertheless appreciated, and even shared on the other end. She has even expressed a similar desire several times, and regularly lets me know how truly crazy she is about me, really. She knows the right time for such things better than I; patience is required. Lots of it. It can only happen when she is fully ready, and compels it to happen. This is worthwhile and necessary; the more deeply we know each other already via online interactions, the sweeter it will be when that day does come.

With my mind ever on her all the time, as it should be, writing this entry has been keeping my attention focused all day, and needs to be finished to publish. So in conclusion, I'll cover the usual bases and end by saying, "Hi again everyone, I may been away in my little shell for the last while, not many updates have been forthcoming for these last few months, I know. The word Depression may even have been applicable, but this healing is bringing me out of it."

I am now owned, gladly and willingly. My leash is hers, along with all the rest. She is Goddess to me, and I love her.

So get used to it, if you haven't already! That is all for now.