Diary of a Financial Dominatrix: Race & Reparation

Deviance's findom correspondent tells us what it's like to be a black goddess, from objecting to the word 'slave' to making money from black stereotypes

Feature by Felicity Benefutuis | 13 Jan 2017

Content warning: this article is not for SWERFs (Sex Worker Exclusionary Radical Feminists). If your beliefs don’t allow for a nuanced discussion of femme empowerment, don't read on. You won't be keen. 

When I stumbled into the world of financial domination a month ago, I worried about staying anonymous and my finsub’s ability to rationally consent to our transactions. In a strange twist of events, I've since found myself making every one of these issues more complex. Boy, my finsub, is still loyal and still buying me nice things; lately I’ve been asking for textbooks (you gotta fund that degree somehow). We’re closer now, and move smoothly between Sub/Dom interactions and a supportive friendship, which has helped make consent negotiation a lot easier. Being closer has also made me comfortable enough to suggest some very kinky shit: Boy will soon be purchasing a collar with my name on it and a chastity cage for himself.

That said, I wanted to see how much money I could make from my newfound trade without bankrupting Boy, so I decided to cast my net wider. I’m in contact with several other findommes through some activist spaces I participate in, and speaking to these other women of colour about their qualms and resolutions encouraged me to get my scam on. Following my friends’ examples, I made a new Twitter account and started the arduous process of building a following.

Financial domination, or findom, is perfectly suited to social media platforms like Twitter and Instagram. While there are many dedicated fetish sites, the reach and accessibility of the bigger platforms make them very appealing for this kind of kink. This is a side of Twitter I had never known before; search #findom and you are brought into a global conversation, largely between women, where men are treated with complete disinterest unless their wallets are open. The more successful, famous findommes rarely ask for money. They might demand an expense be reimbursed occasionally, but for the most part teams of worshipping subs send ‘tributes’ to gain their attention, or just to thank them for existing.

'A sorority of aggressive, confident women'

The most pleasant surprise has been how welcoming and sisterly the scene is, and how much I fit into this sorority of aggressive, confident women. The findom community is welcoming to new dommes even though we are saturating the market, leaving fewer paying subs for everyone. The moment I joined, an account directed me to a free guide to findom created by an established black UK goddess, @MissFoxx_FD.

The hardest part of joining an online community of dommes has been maintaining anonymity. Algorithms are not on your side when it comes to staying inconspicuous on social media and pseudonyms, and on more than one occasion my new profile has popped up on the timelines of my friends as a recommended ‘to follow’, most memorably outing me to an old Tinder flame who proceeded to text me, asking who ‘goddess’ was. Horrifying. Hiding my identity while also presenting a sexy persona adds further complications. My risqué pictures have finally pushed their way onto a very public platform, so now I’m mastering the art of being coquettish with most of my face hidden, and trying not to post anything my mother would murder me over.

There’s no one way to dominate, but there are some ground rules everyone seems to respect online, such as not poaching ‘owned’ subs from other goddesses, respecting the rights of sex workers to do what they are comfortable with, respecting other people’s intellectual property by not stealing tweets or pictures, and most importantly, sister solidarity among goddesses. Broaching etiquette by attempting to scam your fellow sisters is frowned upon, and will bring a goddess’ career to an untimely end.

Financial domination and marginalised identity

The corner of Twitter I’m currently carving a space into is full of feminist women of colour, tweeting insightful threads about toxic masculinity, racial liberation and female oppression. Any time white male fragility edges its way onto these threads, he is told to pay for daring to take up space. This is stuff I was doing for free, in comment sections, in activist facebook groups, to passing men who piss me off. It feels like a homecoming.

Financial domination is not limited to the conventionally beautiful, and many marginalised identities are able to be very successful. Larger women, women of colour and LGBTQ dommes are all represented. While the more successful dommes are predominantly young, slim, conventionally pretty white cis straight women, identity does not place a cap on success here.

While it’s sadly not news to me that racists love to fetishise and date women of colour, I had never thought to capitalise on it. In retrospect this seems ridiculous; of course I should be charging racists for my time and emotional labour! Why didn’t I think of it sooner? I’ve been targeting Trump supporters, a small act of vengeance that is sadly trivial compared to the damage they inflict on us. I do find it strange and quite offensive that it is a specific taboo to be dominated by a black woman, more niche than being dominated by a white woman.

What does this say about our position in society, that finding us attractive and worthy of worship is a literal fetish? This is where the kink takes an uncomfortable turn for me; I find it difficult as a black woman to call anyone a ‘slave’, though I’ve compromised on ‘Boy’. ‘Boy’, a term historically used to infantilise and degrade black men, gives me a certain satisfaction to invert.

It takes a toll, being reduced to body parts and stereotypes, as I have been my entire life. I now willingly do it to myself for capital gain, posting pictures of my lips and bum, knowing that they are more likely to catch the attention of a white finsub and get me those #reparations. I have reconciled myself with this, because I like my features, and I won’t have my sexuality compromised by the white gaze. It’s also thrilling in some respects to give myself over to the anger I often feel at my position in society; my secret Twitter is where I can say exactly how I feel about the white patriarchy and the monumental debt black women are owed without any fear of being labelled an ‘angry black woman’.

They can call me what they want, so long as they pay me.

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