My First Paypig

The first time I came across a submissive male, I had no idea what I had in my grasp. I knew he was somewhat different, even a bit weird. He was a little pathetic, to be sure. And I picked up very early on that he had a thing for me.

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I had just recently started working at a leather store in the local mall, and he was a regular customer known to all the employees working there. He was the only regular that did not have a nickname, as all the sales girls had a soft spot for him. It probably helped, too, that he would spend ridiculous amounts of money every time he visited. You never knew when he would pop by, but when he did, he was certain to buy something. The first time I saw him, I was walking in as he was walking out, and he turned his whole head around to look at me as we passed each other. I only noticed him by the rapid movement in my peripheral vision and turned to meet his big-eyed stare. “Who the fuck is that?” I asked my coworker as he turned back and waddled out the double doors with a garment bag slung over his shoulder. “Oh, that’s Patrick. He comes in often, so you should get to know him. He’s a guaranteed sale,” she replied with a wink. After that, I thought nothing more of him, and sure enough, not long later, he came back to the store to spend more money.  He was not of much particular interest to me, and we didn’t work on commission there, so while all the other girls were scrambling to claim his sale as their own, I often hung back. I gave him no attention at all.

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He was not an attractive man by any means. First thing you did notice however, was how short he was. He couldn’t have been taller than 5’1” tall. I was the shortest girl there at 5’4” tall and about 5’8” with heels on. His face was incredibly pasty white and littered with old acne scars. He had dark red hair with a deep widow’s peak hairline. I guessed he was in his 40’s, & he was wider than he was tall with a protruding gut. He wore light wash jeans with a medium tan braided leather belt and white trainers. He always tucked in his shirt, and he had a weakness for our leather NASCAR themed jackets. His style certainly was not impressing anyone, but those jackets were anywhere from $250-$499 so he did have money. I can’t remember what he did for a living, as I never really cared at all what he had to say.

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After a few visits, he did offer some info about himself unsolicited when he realized I was going to be a permanent employee at his favorite store. “I have a girlfriend.”

“Oh,” I responded politely, I avoided eye contact hoping he would get the hint that I did not want any conversation. I would roll my eyes at all his attempts to get me to care about anything he could ever have to say to me. He was a pathetic specimen, but absolutely harmless. I just had no interest in him at all and saw him as a chore to deal with. “Yeah, she doesn’t really want me to come in here.” He continued without picking up on my total disinterest. He stood as tall as he could and rocked back and forth on his heels. When it became clear to me that he wasn’t going to leave until he had some kind of interaction with me, I finally obliged by responding, “And why is that, Patrick?” It was most likely the first time we had actually ever shared any fixed eye contact with each other. “She says all you ladies are a bad influence on me and will make me spend too much money.” He grinned sheepishly and looked away, unable to hold eye contact for too long a stretch. I stared at him hard, and when he looked back, I flashed a sharp smile without teeth.

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No one has ever seen this girlfriend he claimed to have, and she had never come into the store before. It certainly made the other girls put their guard down around him, and I had suspected that his girlfriend was non-existent. If I ever thought about him for an extended period of time, I might have pitied him. Over the course of his visits, I noticed he would only buy male jackets for himself, never anything for his “girlfriend.” But he would always make it a point to bring her up at every visit. The other girls and I would speculate with each other after his visits if we believed her to be real or the fairytale of a very sad and lonely man.

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Now, at this point, all I knew of my kink journey was that I was a very bratty girl. I had an attitude with every male and certainly every authority figure. I was 19, new to kink, and knew nothing of domination at all. I had a sneaking suspicion I was more than vanilla and started exploring on FetLife a few months prior. I was still learning where I fit in regarding the kink world and Domme/sub relationships. There was definitely something there that interested me, but I wasn’t exactly sure what yet.  

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There were so many beautiful and expensive things at the store I worked at. I was more concerned with what items I wanted from the store for myself than having to sell anything to anyone, let alone Patrick. On one visit, he went into one of his very mild and weak attempts to start a conversation with me, I immediately interrupted him with “wouldn’t this look great on me?” I held up a leather vest over the front of my chest and said, “Can you imagine me wearing this with nothing on underneath? That would be so sexy.” He looked down at the ground and grinned with his small mouth. He blushed and shifted nervously. For a long time, this would end our conversations. He had no responses. To my surprise, I felt bold one visit. I had no idea what came over me, but I suddenly found myself telling him I wanted him to take me shopping.

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His response stunned me when he whispered, “No.” He refused to look me in the eye. I just stared at his receding hairline on the top of his head as he stared straight down at his feet. I coldly responded, “Whatever.” He awkwardly said his goodbyes to the other girls and left with his hands in his jacket pockets. I couldn’t help but wonder, was I wrong about him? Was he just a mild and meek man with a girlfriend as he claimed?

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My brash request kept him away for quite a while. When he finally did start to come back, I completely ignored him. I could tell he was so disappointed when I refused to say one word to him. But fuck him. What good was he to me? I certainly didn’t want to fuck him; he wasn’t going to spend any money on me, and he wasn’t anything to look at. I set my sights on two other men I was toying with and enjoying the aspect of using them in ways much more carnal than Patrick could even dream of.

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I was really thriving being a bratty girl and getting exactly what I wanted from men. Patrick was getting lots of attention from the other girls, but I could clearly see that he was unhappy with my dismissal of him. The other girls would keep him updated on all the gossip and boy drama going on with me. They would tell him which boy was buying me what item, and they would attempt to get us to talk to each other by asking me to show him. But I refused to acknowledge him anymore. I continued to ignore him every time I saw him.

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He surprised us all one day by popping in early. The girls and I were standing around in a half circle, laughing and giggling to each other. Patrick rolled right up with confidence never before seen by us until that moment. In front of everyone, he held out an expensive coffee drink that all of us were fond of. He had one, and he held it out right in front of me and said, “Here.” I looked at everyone before slowly reaching out to grab it. He turned around quickly on his heel and sped out the double doors. Every girl turned to look at me wide-eyed. “What was that about?” they all chirped. “I have no idea!” I responded convincingly, but in that moment, I knew I had him. I knew I could make him do whatever I wanted. I wanted to see what else ignoring him could get me. It all very suddenly was starting to become very exciting for me. Who would have ever thought that this middle-aged, portly, acne-scarred ginger man could excite me in any way? Definitely not me. But I knew I was excited by manipulating men. The next time I saw him, I decided I would make a very bold move.

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The next time he came into the store for his usual colorful jackets, I stood behind the cash register and watched intently. He noticed I didn’t come over to greet him like the other girls. He started going through the hangers and pausing slightly at each one. Occasionally, he would attempt to surreptitiously turn around to see if I was watching him, meet my eyes, and turn back around. I rested my hands on the counter, far apart from each other, and squinted at him. Was this going to work? How was he going to take it? The other sales girls are chirping at him, and he finally made a selection, coming over to me. “Just this.” He says as he lays it gingerly on the table in front of both of us. I look straight at him, and he finally meets my eyes. I look over to my right, and without a word, I throw a pair of black rabbit fur-lined gloves on the top of the jacket. I watch him slowly lower his eyes away from mine. I rang it up & told him the total. Again, He just stood there.

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He handed me his credit card without looking me in the eyes. I rang it up, handed him his jacket, and started taking the tag off the gloves. He just stood there. I put the gloves on and started petting the soft, beautiful black rabbit fur, as he stood frozen. “You can go now,” I said without looking away from my new, beautiful, and GIFTED gloves. He slowly walked out. I knew he wanted more interaction, but I had no idea how he actually felt. He looked so defeated. Truth is, I really didn’t give a fuck if he liked it or not…I did!

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After about two more times of adding $50ish dollar small leather goods to his orders, I was waiting for the perfect opportunity to step it up. I was greedy then, too, after all.

Next time he visited I told him he couldn’t come in without a gift for me. He asked what it should be. I just responded, “I better like it.” He started with coffee. That was ok at first. But I wanted more. I never said anything when he handed it to me. One day he said, “thank you.”  I said nothing. He kept giving. Next, I wanted a leather jacket. We were going to make a big jump in the price of the gifts he was going to give me. He walked in and started browsing jackets. I can see him looking at me out of his peripheral vision…

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I put it on and walked right up to the three-way mirror in the back corner of the store. I was modeling the jacket in the mirror and watching him. Finally, our eyes met in the mirror. I keep staring at him. He can’t hold eye contact for very long, but he does keep coming back to my gaze. I just keep touching the jacket all over. It’s lamb skin, black, and very soft. I am already very aware he has a leather fetish, and I wanted to take full advantage of that knowledge.

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As I start teasing him through the mirror, he suddenly tells the employee he was chatting with that he has to run, as he’s forgotten he’s supposed to meet his “girlfriend,” and he stormed off! I just burst out laughing. No doubt he blew up his pants with his pathetic beta-male baby carrot!

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After that, I was sure he would never show his face in there again. I thought to myself, “Well, that was fun, but that’s most likely over.” I mean, who could come back after something like that? But, he did come back! This time, I had another guy visiting me when Patrick came in.

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I start off by completely ignoring him again. It’s quickly becoming my favorite thing to do with him. I love feeling his eyes on me and all the vibrations of his frustration when I refuse to look his way or acknowledge him.  I had a boyfriend at this time, but we were on the outs. He was so boring sexually, and as I said, I had a suspicion I was more than vanilla. Stalking fetlife for around 6 months had me hungry for more, so I had a flirty thing going with a new guy, I’ll call him “R”. He has been taking me out to expensive dinners, driving me places, and taking me to movie dates. He was 6’4” and way better looking than “Paypiggy Patrick.” I was really starting to enjoy juggling multiple men and running my own little experiments on them.

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I completely ignore Paypiggy, and knowing all too well how much he is staring, and fuming, I start touching R’s arm. Making sure to flirt, giggle, and fawn all over him, all the while knowing that little, fat piggy was dying inside watching us. It was actually much more exciting to me how Piggy was feeling than R!  The girls I worked with were starting to feel bad for my cruel treatment of Paypiggy and started to get jealous of the constant coffee and gifts he was giving me. I could tell they were going to make trouble for me soon. They were chatting with him, and then he walked out without buying anything! UGH!

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I was so close to having him do anything I wanted, and these bitches were going to ruin it for me! I had to seize the next opportunity to make him mine for good! By now, it’s the middle of the summer, and it’s so hot outside. The store's air conditioning is struggling to cool the place down. The store is completely empty of customers, as they are all outside enjoying the weather. I was standing with my co-worker, trying to pass the time and entertain ourselves, when paypiggy Patrick struts up to us out of nowehere. “There’s a clearance sale at XxX.” he blurts out quickly. This store was directly across from where we were standing, and I thought to myself, “Here’s my shot.”

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“Come with me,” I say, as I quickly grab my bag and start walking out ahead of him towards the store. I hear the little pitter-patter of his chubby feet in his sad trainers following behind me. Once there, I start rummaging through the dresses and picking stuff out. I pull out Paypiggy‘s arm and start using him as a rack to hold my choices. After a few moments, I’m ready to try on. I can see his eyes start to get really big, and he asks me, “Can I see the dresses on you?” I say nothing. I point over to the fitting rooms, and he shuffles to them. I gesture for him to put the clothing on the hook inside the room, and he obeys. I point to the chair, right outside the room. He sits down. “Stay right there,” I command him. I have three dresses to try on. Each form-fitting and very sexy. I flip off my heels and place them right in his lap.

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I take a quick peek at him from under the fitting room door. He is just sitting there, trembling, holding my heels in his lap. I try on the outfits and come out one after the other. Not saying a word to him, I simply walk a short distance to a three-way mirror. He never utters a word, and neither do I. At the last dress, I go to grab my heels back from his hands and lap. He hesitates to give them back to me. With a smirk, I turn around and get dressed. I come out with my bare feet. He stares up at me with those pathetic, puppy sub eyes. I place my hand on his shoulder and push firmly to get him to kneel. He complies, and as he does, my hand moves to the back of his head. He takes the hint and holds out one heel. I slowly put my foot into it, and he holds only the shoe, as if terrified to touch my foot. Then I guide the other foot into the other shoe, all the while his eyes fixated on them, never looking up at me. When I finally take my hand off his head, he looks up, mouth agape. I say to him, “Did you like the dresses?” “…yes, I do/did,” he stutters back.

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“Do you think I should have them?” I ask. His mouth opens to answer me, and I throw the dresses directly on his face with a loud plop! I take my foot from his hands cruelly and walk away. Click-clacking loudly down the narrow fitting room hallway. He sheepishly stands up.

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I go directly to the cashier, and he catches up, standing just slightly behind me to my right. It is obvious that he is sweating. I look back at him, and he is staring at his feet again. “Give me your credit card,” I command. He hesitates. I turn towards him to face him directly. But before I can say anything else, he immediately pulled out his card, but not from his wallet. He pulls it out directly from his pocket. I hand it over to the cashier and turn back to him. I watch him the entire time. He only stares at his feet. When the cashier goes to hand me the bag, I ignore her. He has to reach his arm in front of me in order to grab it. He looks at me, and I smile really big. When our eyes meet, I wink at him. He reaches forward to grab it. “Have a great day!” she states cheerfully at us. Oh, I sure did!

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We both start walking back towards my work. I turn around fast on my heels to look him square in the face. I step closer to him, making sure my face is only maybe 12” away from his, and say, “Oh, and Patrick?”

“ye- Yeah??”

“Now, go get me a coffee.” I grab the bag from his hands with a loud CRUNCH and leave him standing there in the hallway.

And that’s the story of my first time dominating a finsub in real life! He truly was a pure paypiggy. I was a newbie, but this interaction made it crystal clear to me that it has always been in my blood.

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