Harm Reduction Findomme (750 Words)

Story Info
She kindly provides a safe outlet for his findom needs.
835 words
4.19
3.8k
7

Part 3 of the 11 part series

Updated 03/11/2024
Created 02/07/2024
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This story was written for the 2024 Literotica 750 Word Challenge. Below this line are exactly 750 words.


He paced, peering out the coffee shop's windows until he spotted her flowing platinum-blonde hair and the distinctly erect carriage of a woman in sky-high heels.

"Hi!" She hugged him and whispered, "How's my little piggy?"

"Fine, miss, fine. Coffee?"

"Thanks!" She took a sip. Her face fell. "This is cold."

She was forty minutes late. But he apologized and got her another.

"Mm, better. Shall we?" She strode into the single-user bathroom. He hurried after her.

Her smile vanished as soon as the lock clicked behind him. She slapped him. "I'm doing you a favor," she hissed. "Show some appreciation."

"I'm sorry." He wrung his hands. "I'll make sure it's hot next time."

"I even wore the shoes you got me." She pushed one expensively shod foot forward. "Do these look like shoes for six o'clock in a fucking coffee shop?"

"No, miss. I do appreciate it." Dropping to his hand and knees, he kissed her glossy black toe.

She kicked him away. "Can you afford that today?"

He flinched. "No, miss."

His wife had taken away his cards and put him on a cash-only allowance, paid weekly. It was too easy for him to overspend otherwise.

"Let's have it." She clicked her fingers impatiently. "I'm not here for the company."

Still kneeling, he pressed the bills into her gloved hand. Her lip curled. "Is that all?"

"Miss?" He had counted and recounted them all day.

"I could be home now, wearing comfortable shoes, talking to someone with a fucking credit card. Instead I shlep out here for your tiny wad of cash." She grabbed him by the hair and forced his head back. "And what do I get for my trouble? Cold coffee. Slobbery shoes. This bullshit."

She waved a stained, creased bill at him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he babbled, cringing.

"Does Bloomingdale's take payment in apologies? No? Fernando Berlin?" She shoved his head away and backhanded him viciously. "Then shut the fuck up and stop wasting my time!"

She paced, heels clicking on the tile. "I do this because I like you, piggy. God knows why, but I do. I don't want you falling into the clutches of someone less...considerate."

He shuddered at the thought. He knew his limits. Or, rather, his utter lack thereof.

There were predators out there, women who would drain him and throw him away. He had missed rent before, feeding this addiction. Racked up thousands in credit card debt.

He had a family now. He couldn't do that shit anymore. He was lucky to have found a findomme so patient. So moderate.

"Please." With trembling hands, he fumbled out his wallet. "Anything you want."

She found his Metrocard. "Cash?"

"Unlimited." Weekly unlimited. It cost more, but he couldn't be trusted with enough money for a monthly.

"Useless. Much like you." She flicked it away.

"What the fuck is this?" She waved a gift card. "All they do is salad."

He squirmed. "I need to watch my weight."

"Yeah, you do. Ugh, whatever. I'm too nice to you." She tossed his wallet aside and unlocked her phone. "Two minutes, ruined into your hand. No looking at my shoes. Then lick it up and hold it in your mouth all the way home."

"Thank you, miss, thank you!" He nearly sobbed with relief.

"Tick-fucking-tock, piggy." She brandished the running timer.

He was already stiff. He made it with thirty seconds to spare.

"Good boy. Now come swipe me into the subway."

That meant 18 minutes with the wind whistling through his threadbare jacket before his card worked again. Pointless cruelty, when she had an unlimited card herself. He nodded eagerly.

Outside the station, she demanded his jacket. She swished it through a puddle of garbage juice, then dropped it into the can. "Hot coffee and crisp bills next time, piggy."

Next time! His heart leaped.

He walked to the next station to keep warm. He was still shivering by the time he got home. The cum felt like it was curdling on his tongue, slimy gobs swimming in a sea of drool.

His wife was on the couch, in sweatpants and fuzzy socks. He swallowed, gagging, then kissed her. "That was disgusting."

"Too much?"

"No! Fantastic. And the Metrocard, and the jacket..." He hugged her, squeezing hard. "Thank you so much, honey. I know this can't be easy for you."

She nuzzled him affectionately. "Eh, you're net positive in my books. Besides, you needed a new jacket. That thing was falling apart."


I guess "but it was his loving wife all along!" is going to be my thing for a while. What can I say? I'm a romantic at heart.

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6 Comments
lovecraft68lovecraft682 months ago

Well, now I have a new role play idea to pitch to the other half.

HypnoCoupleHypnoCouple2 months ago

Brits of a certain age will love the "Tales of the Unexpected" twist-in-the-tale style ending to this story.

Yesok1Yesok12 months ago

Oooh! That was nice. An idea for partner to treat me like that. We like public toilets, but to be abused financially. Love it!

MediocreAuthorMediocreAuthor2 months ago

Why did I enjoy this? I don't know. But I did. I've never had a thing for findomme... But I've read a small number of stories that makes it intriguing. This is one. The cum in his own mouth was more humorous than sexy, imo. But the twist was a net positive.

Victoria14xsVictoria14xs2 months ago

Hot. Great ending. He’s lucky to have her…

We’re lucky to have you…

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