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<editorsnote> Hi, I'm Jen Friel, and we here at TNTML examine the lives of nerds outside of the basements and into the social media, and dating world.  We have over 75 peeps that write about their life in real time. (Real nerds, real time, real deal.) Sit back, relax, and enjoy some of the stories!! </editorsnote>



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Entries in foot slave (3)


#RealDeal: 50 Shades of Friel (that time I became a FinDomme) 

<editorsnote> Dear mom and dad, this post is probably not a good post for you to read. Love you! </editorsnote> 

So, last night, I thought I was going to dollar taco night in the valley to catch up with some friends (in crypto) and pitch an idea that I have in the space ... 


... only I wound up at the Waldorf Astoria rooftop (not my recommendation) ... 


... got kicked out of a (coincidentally) crypto-event-based happy hour ... tried talking my way out of it (with a full plate of every food they were offering at the buffet later) ... epically failed ... only to walk back over to the table and ask my friends confused wondering "what gave me away?" My new "girlfriend" and I happened to be stopped by a group of guys as we were leaving, so I wondered if security thought we were "working the event?" 

Considering our happy hour tab was SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS I kinda wish I was "working it." (We had a big group but not SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS big.) Only not selling my body for sex. Cause, that's kinda not my thing. BUT I was a findomme once. And yes, that actually IS a thing.  


Per UrbanDictionary: 

Maestro ... 

Last June, I got an email from a new Talk Nerdy fan ... 

As I've said previously, HANDS DOWN (er tied up?) the most popular series of posts I have ever written has been the adventures in being a DIY Domme. (Which is why when I repackaged the Bruckheimer/ CBS pilot, we chose this exact topic. It's all a numbers game in media.) Like another monthly visitor, I still to this day (and equally as regularly) get tweets ... 

and Facebook messages ... 

Most are interested in being one of my slaves, but some generally ask questions about the "scene" and or life in general ... 

The funny thing is that when you ignore them, they actually enjoy it ... 

Like I'd ever accept a slave that starts a sentence off with "yo." 

I'm not sure what it was about his Financial Domination email that interested me. Timing? Maybe. Money certainly isn't a motivator, nor is the idea of accepting gifts from someone I don't know. (Remember this post?) I view "gifts" of any kind as a form of power; I am only willing to accept something if it has meaningful value and as someone who is very selective, it made me question if I could go through with this. 

Isn't that the point?, I wondered. 

I thought back to when I accepted my first slave, six years and one FULL lifetime ago. I was naturally curious with the radical honesty of the slave and while on my end it wasn't sexual, I did discover my own voice and power in the process. But now? I know what I have and quietly carry that with confidence. Why repeat the life experience, I wondered?

I took a full 24 hours to think about it before I responded. 

As an entrepreuner, I find myself frequently asking for money so being in a position where I demanded it felt like a (pun intended) value add.

Besides, at that point I wasn't dating someone and if I'm not fucking someone, I might as well fuck with someone. 

He followed my response with another email ... 

I read the first sentence and immediately flipped into full Domme. 

Always with the puns.

Two days and one decision later, I sent another email ... 

Typing the word "pig" made reminded me of the nursery rhyme and how I'm not sure if this is what they actually meant when they sent "that little piggy off to the market." Funny, how that rhyme is also about feet. 

A few hours later, he sent this. 

He also sent a screenshot (which was nice since I didn't have to click a link and wait those extra seconds for the page to load)

I thought, before opening up the image ... 

I actually happened to like the shoes he picked (practical and I can dress them up and down), but I wasn't going to accept any sort of first offer. 

<tangent> Giving myself the name "Mistress Jennifer" helped me compartmentalize the dynamic; my whole life I've been Jen (and mostly Jen Friel - all spoken as one word). I was only ever called Jennifer as a child when I was doing something I wasn't "supposed to," (hehe) and now as an adult I'll call myself Jennifer only to someone I've met when I don't want them to google me. It's not hard to still connect the dots, but I feel like it helps. </tangent> 

It's important to note the boundary of time (which is important in the sub/ Domme dynamic). Once I gave him a command, he was truly out of my mind until he performed the task to my satisfaction. Then and only then did I begin to think about him again.

Needing to stay on task of time myself (particularly living with an out of sight out of mind mentality) meant that I set an alarm down to the minute from when I clicked send on the email (and not just when he received it).

::sets alarm:: 

I set it to "slave fail" knowing that the likelihood of him ACTUALLY pleasing me would be so low.

Four hours is very generous, btw; I was testing to see what he would do with it. Is he the kinda sub that would wait until the last minute? Those won't last long with me. If I was going to do this, I needed to be in complete control of his mind at all times, and make sure I was one step ahead or I ran the risk of being "topped from the bottom." 

I love that BDSM has their own version of wikipedia ... 

I made that mistake before, and like a good nerd, I wasn't willing to do it again. 

Two hours and 37 minutes later, he completed my command. 

18 minutes later, I sent a reply ... 

31 minutes later, he sent this ...

11 minutes later I sent this ... 

4 minutes later he sent this ... 

Exactly at 9:45 the next morning, I sent this ... 

I also attached a photo of the polish ... 

31 minutes later the shoes were ordered (with the expedited shipping)

(It reads: Yes, Mistress Jennifer. I have ordered your shoes and paid for the expedited shipping. Thank you for allowing me to purchase these shoes for you Mistress. I am very thankful for this opportunity. I will give you the tracking information as soon as I receive it Mistress Jennifer.) 

I opened the attachment ... 

$118 - told you I was worth more than an amazon gift card. ::pfft::

36 minutes later I sent this ... 

Three hours and 10 minutes later he sent a link to the tracking ... 

Command complete, my attention went to things that had value.

Testing his willingness to submit, I gave a second command in the same day (technically speaking two hours and 46 minutes later) ... 

17 minutes later he sent this ... 


By sending this he failed. Do you see what I did? I said VERY SPECIFICALLY for him to take the photo but to also send me an email when he was ready. Knowing how eager he would be for me to see that he is pleasing, meant that he would more likely than not miss that part - going straight to just the action. If he didn't miss it, I'd now know how detail oriented he is and to stay EVEN MORE ontop of my game to avoid being topped myself. 

Remember the part about having to stay one step ahead of him mentally?

That photo is me succeeding.  

I let him learn of his failure four minutes later ...

58 minutes later he sent this ... 

16 minutes later I sent this ... 

I'm still proud of that line, "I don't speak the language of beg. Start groveling." 


23 minutes later he sent this ... 

I waited until the next morning to respond.

At 9:30 I sent this ... 


At 11:25, I checked with our office manager to see if I had received a package. 

Not yet, she said. 

I explained it was from a potential slave and if it wasn't here for my meeting at noon, he has failed. 

She smiled, but wasn't surprised. 

See, my plan was to walk into my Talk Nerdy TV development meeting saying the sentence, "my new slave just bought me these," and put the shoe box down on the table in front of the executives to freak them out a bit. 

If he failed, I wouldn't have that life experience. That would leave me verrryyyy disappointed ...


Two minutes after 12, I sent him this (the headline read failure) ... 

44 minutes later he sent this ... 

9 minutes later I sent this ... 

60 minutes later he sent this ... 

I then went to my meeting, and when the executives asked how my day was, (without skipping a beat), I said "fine until my slave failed. It's so hard finding good ones."  

I then explained what I was doing and how real all of these stories are. "There is so much more too," I said sitting down on the couch "and you can ask me anything but I'm really excited to show you what we came up with." (The "we" referencing the woman who actually wrote the pilot and my true partner in crime.) 

By the end of the meeting, the execs left with a smile ... 

And on the drive home, I wondered what I wanted the slave to do next. So many disappointments, he clearly wasn't taking this seriously enough. 

As I put my hair in a pony, I noticed some split ends.

I got an idea as I emailed CLEARLY FEELING GENEROUS ... 

Two hours and 38 minutes later, without a reply, I sent this ... 

54 minutes into pending termination, I looked down at my phone (obviously to respond to a man worthy of Goddess attention) and noticed there was still no response. 

<tangent> The term "Goddess" btw is common for a domme "in the scene." The use of capitals is also intentional. </tangent> 

General rules in a scene is that you have to be crystal clear when something is over. Not receiving the information requested, I terminated his consideration. 

I'd say that I cared, but I had better things to do. 

Sometime the next day, he sent me this ... 

I didn't respond. 

He messaged again ... 

Look at me using the word "he." This isn't a man; I wouldn't even consider this "thing" to be a little pig. How does one fail at that?!?! 


Focus Friel. Back to the post ... 

I looked at my calendar and down at my hair. I really could use some pampering after dealing with such stupidity for a whole 32 hours. 

Sometime later I emailed him back ... 

He then sent this ... 

I sent this ... 

He sent this ... 

Then, (hilariously) the hair salon actually made a mistake by misspelling my last name ...
Which of COURSE wasn't actually their mistake ... it his.

I sent this ... 

He sent this ... 

I sent this ... 

Remember, the command was for him to "tell the receptionist that this is a gift from a pathetic piece of shit." I've been going to that particular salon for years, so I know they'd have a solid laugh and be down.

He sent this ...


I sent this ... 

He sent this ... 

He remembered to wait before sending. Looks like someone is finally paying attention. 

I sent this ... 

I sent this ... 

Seconds later he sent this (CLEARLY NOT GETTING THE PICTURE) ... 

I sent this ... 

He sent this ... 

The next afternoon, I sent this ... 

Have you seen the video and ever read the lyrics? 

Here's the chorus: 'Cause you're a god
And I am not
And I just thought
That you would know
You're a god
And I am not
And I just thought
I'd let you go

Three hours later, a familiar pattern reappeared. 

I emailed as the alarm went off ... 

Oh, and I also sent him the screenshot as visual reminder of his failing ... 

And there you have it. That was my experience as a findomme. Oh and the hair salon? Coincidentally my hairdresser switched salons so I have no idea if he completed the command. And for the shoes? They arrived, but he failed. So, I gave them to my partner in crime and co-pilot for the TV show.


What's the saying? One man's trash is another woman's treasure? 

After all that, and he still never got a photo of my feet. Guess I'll just have to find a slave that's actually worthy. Know of any? 



#50Shades of Friel: (DIY Domme takes a slave to a fetish club)

SOOOOOO last week, I took one of my foot slaves to a fetish club. How did I get a foot slave exactly and what on Earth is making me explore something like this? Read more here

For those of you who are already caught up, let's just carry on shall we?

Here's the song that goes with this post ...

That Tuesday I had taken foot slave number two (aka Dopey) to get his mask less for my pleasure and more for his anonymity. 9/10 times that I kick it somewhere in LA now someone ... somewhere ... will come up and say something about reading the site. I think that's spec-fuckingtacular, but in exploring the kinky realm I had to be conscious to not "out" someone in such a public place.

Why did I choose to go to a club?

I don't know, I was more curious if being in such a public place would enhance things. Again, I wasn't exactly sure what I was going to find, but I was committed to figure that part out.

The night before I had gone home with a duderino from the bar (TOTAL first, btw ... but had the funnest day ever) so I arranged for the slave to pick me up at 8:30 from Marina Del Rey.

At 8:15 I get a text ...

I'm running late. I'll be there closer to 9.

I was playing beer pong while I read the text, so I frankly didn't care on a personal level ... but on the domme level, I was extremely disappointed and made sure he knew it ...

You're a bad boy, I texted back.

I then went back to kicking it with my new friends and playing until he arrived shortly after 9.

My "date" walked me out and after I kissed him goodbye I got in the car with the slave.

You're a bad boy for being late, I said sitting in the passenger seat.

I know, he said.

Dopey is the most of all three of the slaves. Doc (first foot slave) has a wife, kids, and is just really into being objectified. In conversations with Dopey it seemed like he was actually looking for not a domme but a demanding girlfriend. He had mentioned being in the scene for a while, but also that he had received sexual satisfaction from his previous dominatrixes.

During the scene, he said, I had to beg them to finally let me come. There was always a physical release during each session, he admitted.

Despite my best efforts I tried not to judge him especially because I was so new at this - how could I predict if sexually speaking I'd be into exploring something more when I have no frame of reference. My first instinct was to explore the scene, and then allow things to progress naturally and without judgement.

Was the slave my type sexually speaking, and did this turn me on in a sexual manner?

Nope. Not at all on both counts - but again, open mind. I HHHAAAVVVEEEEEEE to have an open mind 100% of the time. The entire experience depended on it!!!

The slave then dropped me off at my place so I could change before going to the club. I had asked him when he picked me up to bring me a bottle of wine (all subs bring the domme a gift), but since he forgot, I made him go out while I was getting ready.

I then got ready (which btw never takes me more than 15 minutes. I'm a SPPPEEEEEEEEEDDDD demon) and when I realized he still wasn't back, I texted him.

Where r u?

I stopped to get some fast food, I was hungry.

I stared down at the text and wondered how fucking dumb is this slave, or maybe this is a thing? Do they always push your buttons like this testing boundaries?

My gut told me yes, even if everything in my soul was already starting to get tired of the fact that this guy was late now twice in picking me up - ANNNDDD he forgot my gift. 

Should I have sent him home at that point, I wondered? It's all so hard knowing when you're just starting out.

We then picked up two of my friends, and I proceeded to ignore him until we got to the club.

Change the radio to 102.7, I said to the slave.

That's pop though, he replied back.

So!! It's what I want to listen to!!!

Fine, he lamented.

This guy is such a BITCH, I thought.

We finally get to the club (after sitting in traffic for LITERALLY an hour over by the Hollywood bowl) and I instruct him to drop us off at the door while he finds parking.

I only have $10 cash on me, how much is parking? he asks.

That's not my problem to deal with, go figure it out, I say as I slam the door.

(I really did take to being a domme almost immediately. I'm a bitch ... I'm a lover ... I'm a child ...)

We then get inside and I meet up with some of my other friends and get a crowd together to start dancing. The club isn't strictly a fetish club - it's more goth-like and DEFINITELY gathers a gnarly looking crowd. Everyone is dressed in black, and there are people getting flogged and spanked upstairs.


About 20 minutes later I finally spot the slave on the patio smoking. There you are, I said. Here put this on ... I hand him his mask.

Do I have to wear this, he asks?

Yes! It's more for your protection actually. I don't want someone to be able to identify you as one of my slaves.

I then assist him in buckling the mask as we head over to the dance floor.

When we get there, my friends laugh saying, dude, you have a slave behind you. Go make him do something.

I turn around and snap my fingers. COME! I command.

We then head over to the couches and I sit down.

Get on your knees, I command pointing to the ground.

Take off my shoes and rub my feet - they are sore from dancing.

He then removes my right shoe, followed by the left.

The woman next to me, who was passed out when I first sat down looks up and wonders what we are doing.

Are you a domme, she asks.

Yes, I say barely looking at her.

Woah, she said. I'm a switch.

You're really hot, she says as the slave begins rubbing my feet.

I say nothing to her as I drift away into the wonderful wonderful bliss of having your feet properly massaged.

The woman then moves onto the couch next to me.

I stare down at her ... can I help you? I inquire.

I want to be a part of this too, she says.

Alrite, rub my shoulders, I command.

She then begins rubbing my shoulders.

Because of the loud music, I couldn't hear what she said next, but before I knew it she leaned forward and slapped the slave.

Not like "slapped slapped" more like the way a 4 year old would hit you. She was passed out not 10 minutes prior, and based on her back massage had ABSOLUTELY no upper body strength.

Before I could stop her, she hits the slave again. He gets PISSED.

Woah, woah, I say. You need to stop, realizing a boundary has been crossed. 

Seconds later her friend arrives and takes her away. I was grateful I didn't have to deal with anything further.

I then get back on the dance floor and in about every 15 minute intervals command the slave to stop and rub my feet.

After about an hour I was tired, so I instructed the slave to get the car and I would meet him out there shortly.

I said goodbye to my friends as I walked outside where the car was already waiting.

I get inside, and the slave starts SSSCCCCCCRRRRRREEEAAMMMIIIINNNNNNGGGG at me.



I immediately apologize because I genuinely knew a boundary had been crossed, but then I stared back in confusion at the words coming out of his mouth ... cherish? treated well? Aren't slaves supposed to be objectified and humiliated?

I let him continue ...


I say nothing, but I think what a BITCH this guy is. I friggen wore the thing MYSELF ...


I would never ... EVER put someone in a situation unless I had done it myself. I WAS a sub to my friend the switch, remember?? I wore this myself and learned literally by having it all done to me.

I knew SO THROUGH AND THROUGH that this mask was easy to breathe in. This guy was being SUCH A FUCKING PUSSY!!!

He then stopped screaming and waited for me to respond. Again, I apologized for the woman hitting him like a 4 year old, but then said, you're having an extremely emotional response right now and I'm attempting to figure out how to process this which is difficult since the slaves that I have dealt with outside of you have wanted me to ignore, humiliate, and objectify them. You're asking for an entirely different scenario and I'm not at all sure I'm interested in dealing with it.

Fuck that shit man, I'm here to be a bitch!! Treat someone like a PET and CHERISH THEM?? OOOHHH HELLLLLL NOOOOOO!!! You'll be my stool, foot massager, and overall life pamper-er. In return for you pleasing me, I let you worship me. Period end of sentence.

We finally get back to my place, where again I apologize for him being hit. Even though she didn't hit you hard, I can see how that would be upsetting and for that, again, I apologize.


Yeah, I thought, it's because I feel like I'm 11 years old again and fighting with one of the other girl's at school. I just listened to you BITCH AND MOAN for 15 FUCKING MINUTES!!! What more do you want from me? I'm tired, cranky, and now COMPLETELY disinterested in dealing with you. I have no emotional investment in this scenario nor should I feel like I have to.

This is the ONE PLACE where I can be cold and it's supposed to be HOT FOR THE GUYS!!

I then walk upstairs, laughing. I get criticized by guys for seeming a bit standoffish, and here I am in the ONE SPACE where this is supposed to be kosher for passover and one of my slaves calls me a robot. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, absolutely EVERYTHING that makes me good in business SLAYS my personal life.

An hour later as I was falling asleep I see a text from the slave apologizing.

Done, done, doner than done, I thought as I fell asleep.

So, what did I learn from this experience?

Not all subs are the same. Like anything in this world there are different levels of the spectrum and while some may be into certain things, others aren't. You have to have a conversation with the sub before beginning and establish the boundaries within the scenario.

I know, as a domme, I am COMPLETELY disinterested in having any sort of emotional connection with the slave, the person. I will respect the animal that they are at their core, certainly, and only do what I know will enhance their experience - but I am ABSOLUTELY disinterested in conversing with them, knowing about what they do for a living, or anything in between. Keep that shit to yourself, yo!

So slave number two has gotten the axe, but who's next? Again, as a domme that is what I am looking for, and should this be you, and what you're into ... hit me up! Send me an application on why you should be my slave (bitches need not apply, only beg):

JenFriel at Talknerdytomelover d c

Next up is a meeting with slave number 3 this week ... dudes, I'm finally getting a riding crop!! YAY LIFE!!! =)



#Fact: You think a first date is weird? Try first fetish meeting! 

Oh lordy schmick mordy ... I am literally blushing at writing out this post. I will tell you all right now that I THOROUGHLY enjoyed myself, but I just didn't expect this part of my personality to come out. I knew I was dominant in business but never ever ever in my personal life ... I wanted to pwn that motherfucker like it was my job.

Alrite, so a week ago, I tweeted out that I was seriously considering dating a guy with a foot fetish just so I could have my feet rubbed. I started running in the morning to give my life more of a "routine" but as a side effect it's caused my feet to throb like no other.

I was kind of kidding, but what I didn't expect was the OVERWHELMING response from guys who were totally into it.

Now, I know from my buddy @meowmistidawn that foot fetish is in the top three fetish turn ons (just behind butt and boobs - pun intended), but I've genuinely never dated a guy who has articulated that he had a foot fetish - so my experience is extremely limited in the subject and honestly, I thought it was all pretty "creepy."

The second that C word hit my noggin though I realized I was actually just being judgmental and maybe if I walked towards that place of uncomfort I could learn something from a first hand experience and not a preconceived notion.

Bottom line: I actually emailed one of the foot fetish duderinos back.

His email was so sweet ... and so endearing. He said plain as day that he is married and with kids, but that this is a part of his personality that he can't deny and he's been a foot slave to doms before but was seeking one in LA. (His wife totally approves of this, and he even came with phone number references for his other doms.)

We then started an email exchange and after approximately 40 emails outlining LITERALLY everything, we arranged to meet up Friday at a semi public location.

I was coming from a meeting in the valley so I was kinda dressed up, but at about 4:00 on Friday we met at a park not too far from my house.

It's super quiet since not a lot of people know about it, but I knew I could EASILY beat feet if this guy was a legit Buffalo Bill.

Minutes after my arrival I see a built guy approach me wearing glasses and a hat.

He asks if he can put his hood on.

Sure, I say, noticing that no one was around and very honestly even if they were - I didn't really care.

We barely spoke, he brought me some wine as a gift (he likes being humiliated and objectified).

I placed the wine in my bag and he immediately went to town.

I asked prior if wearing my normal knee high socks were an added turn on similar to lingerie - but he said no, he was into just the feet.

He then removed my knee highs and I placed a hoodie in between my legs to not give him too much of a room with a view. (I'm always in a skirt or dress.)

He then started massaging my feet as I started live tweeting what was happening.

He didn't want me to speak to him or address him at all - I was instructed to ignore him and be mean to him as much as possible.

The thing about me though is that I am an introvert; writing is my emotional default. When it comes to business, yes, I am a hustler and literally live on getting shit done - but in my personal life ... I'm EXTREMELY shy. It surprises guys that I like because I turn into a deer in headlights not knowing what to say, and people expect when they meet me this larger than life personality ... it's hilarious. I'm a LOT quieter in person, particularly when I'm crushing on a dude. 

This, however, was not a time to be quiet. I had to be a nasty naughty bitch and I literally could not say a single word.

<tangent> Dudes, I can't even talk dirty in bed!! I am SO FREAKING BASHFUL!! Even a few weeks ago after this super awesome date the dude walked me to my door and my roomie and her boyfriend were coming back from their date and caught us making out in the stairwell ... I turned SOOO RED!!! And it's just a PDA!!!! But I ... can't .... do ... it ... it's horrible, and clearly something I need to work on.

And FTR, it's not the traditional PDA that I have a problem with, I'll make out anywhere ... but when it's someone that I know ... I get WEIRD. I'm EXTREMELY particular with guys that I bring into my social circle. It's one thing to date a person, another to introduce them to your friends. </tangent>

He continued to rub my feet in hands down one of the BEST foot massages I have ever had, as I ignored him while I answered emails and live tweeted the entire situation.


The massage lasted for about a half an hour. He rubbed in between all my toes, and all over my feet, even going as far up as my calves.

I hate that we have to cut this short, he says as he stops, but I have to go now.

It's okay, I said. I really really really enjoyed this.

Really? he asked surprised and still wearing his hood.

ABSOLUTELY!!! I replied back enthusiastically. I really want to get into this.

He then kneeled and took a deep breath - you have no idea what a relief that is to me.

It then struck me how closeted this man is with his fetish. He is SO afraid people are going to find it weird that he has to suppress it so deeply.

My heart broke in that moment.

Yes, I'm into this! How could I not be!! It's amazing and feels really good.

He took another deep sigh.

If I'm going to do this though, I really want to get into it, I instructed. I want to get shoes and a riding crop - I have to psychologically compartmentalize it within myself that when I am in this moment with you, I am a dom and not the sub that I normally am in my personal life. Can we talk via email and outline exactly what each of us wants from this dynamic in the future? I want everything outlined so no matter what we are both clear.

Yes, that would be great.

He then took yet another deep breath. You have no idea what this means to me. I can't believe you enjoyed this.

Of COURSE I did, I say (what chick wouldn't dig an AMAZING foot massage), but I want to really get into this and vocalize my own personal truth by expressing myself more as a dom. Email me?

Yes, he said as he took off the hood (I turned around to not see his face), placing the glasses and hat back on.

Bye bye, I say not turning around.

ANNNDDD there you have it ladies and germie men. It wasn't "weird" or "creepy" at all - it was EXTREMELY enjoyable and while sexually it may not do anything for me, it is CERTAINLY going to help me break free of the shyness that I feel in my personal life and help me articulate more of my personal truth (which AGAIN is my lesson with the modern day shaman. W2g universe!!!)

He has since emailed me, and we are now going to outline our boundaries - this is by no means done. I can't WAAAIIIITTTTTT to get a riding crop and literally beat the bejesus out of the duderino for being a bad bad boy. =)

"Express yourself don't repress yourself"