Making Me Power Of Attorney

This goes back to 2014-2015. Mark was into the transfer of financial power but not just that alone. He wasn’t your typical sub that wanted to have cam or team viewer sessions. There was no lame “fag tax” day. Mark is a genuine sub that understood the dynamics of losing control and placing the wheel in someones else hands. He’s a very intelligent man, middle aged, single and not bad looking. This experience of mine is extreme in a whole other way.

This experience took a year to full manifest itself… so I’m not going into every detail. However with extreme forms of submission ALL of you need to be careful doing certain things. (I Get a lot of concerned messages about my subs and are shaken by such extremities,) Communication, safe word, and conversations outside of subspace were established.

This covers what I call Fin Dom Exhibitionism. 


Mark wasn’t someone I found on fetlife, that “GPS Based App”, Dominants, or youtube whatever. He was sitting at a bar downtown Chicago after a both attending BDSM party. (Mistress Gold was there btw I’ll talk about that another day, this night had two experiences.) I had seen him there but had not spoken to him. White Collar type of guy dressed in a suit and all. I was having my own excapdes that night but I remember seeing him sit by himself looking bored. For those who know me you know i rarely drink but when it comes to these BDSM groups I tend to.

I was at this bar called Roscoes and its so trashy. Just like the other bars in the gay ghetto called Boyztown here in Chicago. Its so disgusting people fuck in the bathrooms… like please have some class. It takes forever to stand in line to use the bathroom. All these kink parties tent to occur in this part of Chicago. Anyway, It was a tuesday night so it wasn’t too busy. My sub that I had brought had been pimped out to the mistress that night. He was going through many emotions so we drank and talked for a half hour. He eventually was picked up by his bf from “clubbing all night.”

Mark was still there drinking and playing his phone so I went and sat next to him. “I saw you hanging by yourself and you looked pretty bored. Was there was something you’re into and didn’t see or something bother you?” He set his phone down obviously wanting someone to talk to. “Oh I have a fucked up fetish I didn’t expect to find it here anyway.” Obviously nothing shocks me. “I’ve heard everything I mean I have with a sub into something called financial domination and public humiliation.” He seemed excited and responded very quickly not caring about incoming messages on his phone.

“Well I am a cash sub. I saw you humiliating that guy that just left. Interesting I thought there were no cash doms there. Vanilla is a bore to me. I own a bunch of real estate, stock and am a criminal defense lawyer.” I asked the bartender to order two more and that I was paying for both. “So are you into femdoms or male finds?” He happily reached towards his drink “I’m gay sir, why else would I be sitting in this bar?” All I did was mention findom and already he was calling me sir 🙂 “I can’t cum unless I’m getting cash fucked. It just feels so right. I make 6 figures and jerk away half of it. Everything online has gotten so boring. I want something more exciting.” We talked for about a couple hours before the bartender called that the last round of drinks would be coming soon. “So sir, have you ever done other things besides boring team viewer?” “Many many things. Rinsed a 401k, drove one sub to bankruptcy like years ago, and have done bank transfers.”

He started to “adjust himself” as I noticed a bulge in his dress pants. “That’s what I want sir. I want to do something exciting and dangerous. I left my car here I can’t get home… I’m so drunk.” I told him to come home with me and we can discuss other things. We agreed happily while mumbling how hot my shoes looked and slurring how big they were as we got into the uber. I let him pass out on the sofa still dressed in his suit and tie. When he woke up I gave him some gatorade, a basic breakfast, and 10MG of Vicodin. “I’m so happy I don’t have to go in today. I have others in the office to take care of things. Wow that was some night. I remember everything we talked out.” I sat down next to him picking up that mornings New York Times. Something about Hillary and Benghazi (Obama was still president) and was tired of reading the same thing over and over. “I mentioned draining a 401 which I assume you have one, bankruptcy, and bank transfers.”

“Yes Sir, however I have had a fantasy for something that has never really been talked about online. Have you ever heard of something called power of attorney?” I got excited right away feeling a rush of doing something new like this. I knew very well there were different types of power of attorney. Are you looking for durable Power of attorney?” His eyes lit up as the Vicodin was kicking in. “I’m quite impressed someone your age knows what that is. And yes it sounds exciting. It’s better then those blackmail contracts that I hear about. Financial and medical power of attorney is something I want to last forever.” I informed him that I there were specific forms and that it must be motorized, which he already knew. Clearly he had done a lot of research for a long time. He knew what he wanted.

We went online and printed forms and putting everything in detail we could think would be fun and dangerous. After seeking another lawyer (paid for by Mark) as for something like that, it was recommended that I show I had nothing but his best interests. Mark went to see a psychiatrist saying he had mood swings to get a fake diagnosis for bipolar. For financial power of attorney, we used his “fake history of bipolar” and stated I was his bf.  Long story short, I had every legal decision over his medial care, life, and complete finances. When everything was notarized, his mind and personalty became melted like candle wax. He kept asking permission for simple things followed by Master. He was at a point of no return. If I wanted I could have easily destroyed him. We had much fun over several months.


Sometime a month later we went to his fancy house of 6 rooms and lavish furniture where he lived downtown Chicago. He told me he just wanted to do random fuck overs that he didn’t see coming. I told him we would get to things like that. “Sir if I was on machines you could take my life away. What should we do about the stock I own in Microsoft?” “They have apps that can take care of that, I’d rather contact an investor on my own the old fashioned way. It’s no longer your stock anymore its MY stock. You NO LONGER OWN ANYTHING. I can do whatever I want with your bank account. Since you’re mentally ill now, I’ve shut you out from your own bank account.”

He poured himself a bottle of merlot and played a Stevie Nicks album on his own turntable. (We had some things in common.) “That’s so hot that now you’re the main account holder. I go to work now knowing my life is exposed and vulnerable and I fucking love it. Thank you for signing up for that credit card I jerked off and came when I found out it had been maxed. Isn’t that fucked up?” He stumbled walking towards the kitchen and opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of what was obviously poppers. After thinking for a couple minutes I knew what needed to be done. “Mark, how much do you get paid as a lawyer?”

“Usually with most of my clients $250 an hour. I have lots court dates on Mondays and Thursdays.” Mark was clearly drunk as he was letting his come walls down. “I’m under so much stress sir. I own two apartment buildings and all these tenants to deal with. I don’t really deserve to have all that control. I’m fucking retarded to put my life in your hands. But it feels so good.” I made sure to quickly correct him. “Those are MY Tenets and MY Apartment buildings. Are you fucking stupid like you were making me power of attorney? YOU OWN NOTHING. ITS ALL MINE.” He stumbled and almost fell, (I caught him.) “Thank you sir. I’m so happy I placed my life in your hands like the fucking idiot I am sir.”


Within the next two weeks Mark focused on work while all his earnings went directly to one of my bank accounts. His account had been closed as nothing any longer belonged to him. He didn’t want to own anything, he didn’t didn’t deserve anything, nor did he need to open anything. Well, the only thing he needed was to hold on to whatever remaining worth I had not drained from him. He was a walking puppet whose life was in my very hands. A life that I could clench in my fist and outright destroy without even a second thought. Those realizations sent Mark into another world of euphoria and bliss. He had realized his true purpose and the true meaning in life. Making me happy and transferring every ounce of life and control over to me, for my pure amusement.

I contacted an real estate investor and stock invested over the weeks, and put his apartment buildings up for sale. I still kept my morals and would make sure nothing would happen to the tenants already living there, as they had nothing to do with this obviously. (Not gonna go to sleep at night knowing people are losing their homes.) A wealthy owner of multiple apartment buildings bought them for cheap, with me pocketing every single penny. I eventually sold his stocks going through a professional financial advisor as this was something new to me. I carried the motorized and signed power of attorney everywhere I went. I kept records of my bank account with his earning going right into my checking. He now had his own debit card with cash I dispensed for his basic side cash. I was in charge of paying all his bills. All he had to do was go to work for me while caged in chastity and my photos in his wallet. Like many those photos were to remind him why he worked to begin with.


After his stocks were sold, I stopped at his house with the key he had made me one evening. I made plans to head to horse shoe casino in (hammond Indiana I think?) “What are the plans tonight sir?”  Without warning I pissed all over his suit, tie, parada shoes, and his briefcase. “You’re a piss loser so tonight you are going to smell like piss!” He was dripping wet. I then gave him 2 MG of oxycodone/oxcotinn. I told him tonight he wasn’t going to be drinking because it would be dangerous mixing alcohol with what I just drugged him with.  As he drove his porche to the casino I put my feet up on the dashboard, and packed my bowl with dank weed and blowed smoke directly into his face. The drug was kicking in yet he didn’t swerve. I made sure to start him on hydrocodone on physical BDSM session when I would beat the shit out of him and burn him repeatedly with cigarettes among other fun horrible things. I made sure to build up a tolerance as many submissives embrace their true selves on opioids along with a work of art mind fuck. 😉 (Poppers included. Some subs do better with liquor and some psychedelics. With extreme fuck overs Opioids and/or Psychedelics are always a must.)

I handed him a bottle of poppers and instructed to sniff them every 10 minutes for 30 seconds. “Yes sir. I love being fucked up master, like how I’m fucked up in the head sir.” Cold hard cash, ALL MINE, I had $200,007K I had pulled out in 9k over over months to avoid constantly alerting the IRS. Its already annoying and embarrassing explaining findom with the most horrified and confused, and disgusted faces.  I seriously got the craziest comments at chase bank. Some clerks were really nice and were interested. One had a sister who was a femdom herself and thought the power of attorney thing was cool. She just HAD to tell her sister.

All the cash that I brought was in his briefcase that I had pissed on. I decided he was literally going to be my walking ATM before we left I dumped all his case files on the floor and stuffed nothing but Ben franklins inside. The narcotic was taking full effect, and he walked around in his suit smelling like a fucking litter box, as he was a shitty loser. It was ideal for him. He knew and loved it. We headed up to the big boy room as I told him to go grab me a Captain morgan with coke (the cola.) I kept playing $10 a spin for a few hours smoking like a fucking chimney. At moments when the big boy room was quiet, I told him to get on the floor and start licking my Air Jordans clean. They were not cheap, as they cost HIM 2k. I had bought them from the cash he earned me from his lame endless court cases and his pathetic clients trusting their lives with a worthless dumb faggot with no real mind of its own. He was a Human ATM and walking robot operating with the illusion of a normal man.  They were fucking disgusting and I certainly don’t deserve to be walking around in that. He had the purpose of making me happy, and cleaning them between the tiny cracks were part of that mission of his. They were already dirty from walking outside and riding my board getting them trashed not giving a fuck how much they cost.

I had won multiple jackpots, and was spending thousands of dollars. I’m surprised we weren’t kicked out. But hey someone keeps ringing alarms and is spending high amounts on a spin? Would you kick someone out for licking shoes? It’s called a blind eye. (Later on yes after people complained 😉 

I had won 7k over those hours even though I had lost 50 something k. I didn’t give a fuck. This walking ATM spit out whatever the fuck I deserved and wanted. As we walked to another machine he noticed my dick fully rock hard through the basketball shorts. I was clearly loving every moment of this power trip I was on. Both of us euphoric on opposite ends of an alternate universe. I started playing $100 as spin. People came, so i took off my shoes without bring much attention and told him to sniff my air jordans knowing anybody could see him acting like a fucking idiot in public. I told him to sip the sprite he had for himself and handed him another 2mg of Oxycontin. He did as he was instructed and was sniffing the poppers on his own every 10 minutes for 30 seconds while I played $100 a spin. A guy walked by and asked what Mark was doing sniffing high tops while someone was playing next to me. “They smell really good to me and I live for this scent.” The man had the most confused look on his face and didn’t know what to say, as I had gone through 60k while getting back 90k. I had come out ahead and was having a shit load of fun. I looked at the man. “He has a fetish for being a cash faggot. I sold his real estate, sold off his stocks, and now I’m pissing it away. Here have 5k in cash. (Didn’t want him telling staff.) He took the money and told us he hopes we have a nice evening. He had a smile and excited look on his face. Didn’t see him again. He went home taking what I had given him. Smart man.


We went to the black jack table as I bet 10k first play. The dealer looked at me with his eyes wide open. I then told him to make it 20k instead. I lost it to other people first few times. Of course they put it back in as I eventually went through 100k over many hours, drugging Mark with more oxycontin every 4 hours. (When you’re in a casino time goes by so fast.) I text mark to piss all over himself after he asked to use the bathroom, and he did just that.) People started at him and complained to staff that this man smelled horrible and was carrying an aroma everywhere he went.

Eventually, we were asked by security to leave after disturbing things had been seen on camera and that complaints were made. They never wanted to see me again 🙂

By the end of the night of winning and losing I walked out only 110k. I let the narcotic wear off he told me how fucking hot that was. He then uttered the safe word. Keeping to my promise I gave him the 110k and over the month had the power of attorney dissolved. He thanked me for the experience of a lifetime.

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