For twelve years, I had the same submissive. He wasn't my biggest spender, nor was he particularly extravagant. What he was, however, was consistent.

We had an arrangement that worked beautifully for both of us. He understood my expectations, I understood his boundaries, and neither of us had any interest in complicating something we both enjoyed.

He had a wonderful sense of humor. A little shy initially, but once he became comfortable, he could give as good as he got.

He used to tell me I was spoiled. I'd remind him that after twelve years of encouraging it, he had absolutely no right to complain.

We knew things about each other's lives that had nothing to do with financial domination. We'd talk about work, friends and the ridiculous things that happened during our weeks. Sometimes we'd spend more time laughing than doing anything else.

Then one Friday, he didn't appear. I assumed something had come up. After all, twelve years is a long time. People get busy. Circumstances change. But another Friday passed.

Eventually, I learned that he'd died unexpectedly. I remember sitting there staring, not quite knowing what to do with it. There was no argument. No goodbye. No indication that our last conversation would actually be our last. Just an ordinary conversation between two people who fully expected to speak again.

I've thought about that quite a bit.

People outside this lifestyle often assume financial domination is entirely transactional. Sometimes it is. There's nothing inherently wrong with that. But twelve years is a long time to know someone. You learn their little habits. Their peculiar sense of humor. What bothers them. What makes them laugh. When they're having a difficult day, even when they insist everything is fine.

Somewhere along the way, you become part of each other's routines. I still occasionally catch myself thinking of something he would have found funny.

And every now and then, Friday rolls around and I remember. Funny how someone can occupy such an unusual place in your life and still leave behind such an ordinary kind of sadness.