commodity

[pomonagirl]

A long time ago, for a brief period, I was on a daddy site.

I'd gotten a dui, and when I wasn't completely freaked out about the huge impending legal fees, I was super, super depressed (anyone that's gotten one can relate). It was a dark time in my life, to say the least.

I was single then, and waaaaaayyyyyyy more cavalier about sex and dating. So one day, I took a deep breath, and I did it. I signed up for a 3 month membership on a daddy site.

This was a long time before I knew about Kink and BDSM lifestyle (not that daddy/ baby completely crosses over to Kink/BDSM), but honestly, the website wasn't too much different than the vanilla dating sites I'd been on. Just with an added twist...

***.

Wow...did I ever get some...incredible offers. Incredible--not as in the definition of good or amazing--but more in the scope of, wow. Just wow.

It was a strange game, on both sides.

All in all, I ended up meeting two men from that site. The first one, he was kind of a classic older eccentric bachelor type. I don't think he'd ever been married. Maybe paying for companionship was a way for him to keep a deeper relationship or emotions at bay.

Our first date, he picked me up...we went to the nicest Italian restaurant in town. The one that I'd always pass by, never go in to. It was a wonderful meal and the conversation was fine. It was much like a normal date.

After, I invited him in....we made out for a while, things got pretty hot but he didn't want to have sex (I think he was more in to things like mutual masturbation than sex). Afterwards, flushed, getting dressed in the dim light of my bedroom, he kind of awkwardly says, "I usually have more on me...I didn't realize that this would happen tonight."

And he gave me $60.

Then I walked him to the door, and kissed him goodnight.

The second time I saw him, I took the bus out to him (dui times, remember?). He picked me up from the bus station, which was right near a big mall. I had my plan, if I was going to go for this, I might as well try, right?

"Ooooh, there is a Macy's there...I am out of my <insert expensive make up items here>." He quickly let it be known that if he were to purchase anything for me there, it would go out of my....well....it would be subtracted from the *** he would be giving me. Inwardly, I pouted. Of course, I would wind up with the miser-type daddy.

His house was...strange, and definitely in need of a woman's touch. We hung out, he showed me his house and studio (he was a musician). We made out for a while--again repeating the same sort of odd ritual (no sex but other stuff, which was just strange to me, especially back then with no exposure to Kinklandia). After, as we laid in bed together, he put on a King Crimson video (ugh) so that I could watch it (double-ugh). Did I mention that I loathe prog rock? And why is it, so very many of the fans are just...kind of...greasy...("greasy" said with a soft "s", the way my grandmother used to say it.)

I feigned interest for as long as I could before drifting off to sleep (prog is a pretty male-dominated field, there's a reason why you don't see many lady prog rockers). I'm not sure how long I was out, but afterwards, we went to dinner (at a much-less-nicer restaurant, he was so eccentric and a very picky eater and drinker).

I honestly don't recall if I spent the night there or if he drove me home that night--if I did spend the night, it was in a guest bedroom. He paid me a bit under $200, I think around $160 or so.

On the way home, when he was driving me back, I accidentally called him by the wrong name--MAJOR party foul!!! He was ***ed (can't say that I blame him)!!! So not surprisingly, I never heard from him again. Which, given his eccentricity and displays of being a penny pincher, was totally ok with me.

The second man I met from the site, was much older, older than I'd ever dated before. I think he was in his 60's (I was in my early/mid 30's). He was a baller, a very wealthy cosmetic orthodontist or dentist, who had been under the employ of the Sultan of Brunei, among other notable and powerful people.

He met me across the street from my work (I worked in Hollywood at that time), at a wine bar. After my shift I'd had time to get dressed and made up, and even gotten a glass of chardonnay down me before he arrived.

He'd parked in the lot used by my work (Hollywood--parking is a premium) and can you imagine my embarrassment when a co-worker saw me, escorted by this older gentleman, and getting in to his custom Maserati. Not just any co-worker but the cutest co-worker that I had the biggest crush on. So classic.

Never in my life had I been in such a fancy car. It had been made for, and owned by, a famous athlete. Of course. As we cruised through Hollywood to Koreatown, I understood completely, why luxury cars are a "thing".

He took me to a restaurant, an old restaurant, the kind of steak restaurant that I'd never been in to before, in all my life. He explained to me that he'd had a gastric bypass, and that for him fine dining and drinking was to be enjoyed properly--to taste, to enjoy, not to overeat or overindulge. So I wasn't expected to finish anything, just to enjoy. I could see, feel, the pride he had, showing me and instructing me in this side of life.

So there was a pre-dinner cocktail, then an appetizer with a glass of wine. Then, dinner with a bottle of wine. Then, dessert, with a dessert wine.

When it came time for the after-dinner drink I had to beg off. "I don't want to be drunk while taking the bus home" I said, honestly. The bus ride from downtown was easy enough, but long, and dark; nothing I'd ever wanted to experience while inebriated.

Of course he was a total gentleman and offered to drive me home, which given the circumstances, I gratefully accepted. His company was nice, we had a lot in common. He'd told me his sob story on the way to the restaurant...a sexless with a bedridden wife...so on the way back to my house, I told him my sob story...the dui and my less-than-amazing financial situation.

He insisted to walk me to the door of my house (it was late at this point) and I invited him in for a cup of coffee. It was his turn to beg off, so I gave him a warm hug and a kiss...which turned into a really warm kiss.

We kissed there on my porch for a few minutes, until he withdrew, obviously a bit flustered. "I should have said yes to that coffee" he muttered, as he reached into his pocket, withdrawing some neatly folded bills and handing them to me, before bidding his adieu.

Once inside, I unfolded and counted the bills. Ten twenty dollar bills. $200, and for what? For joining him for dinner, for kissing him? He was looking for a regular girlfriend...mistress...besides the oddness of the situation, he did seem like a cool guy. He had a gentleness about him, and he was the type of man, I got the feeling we could just talk comfortably for a long time, without it being..."greasy" or awkward.

Him, I think I would have seen again, but soon after our date, I met a guy (on the bus, lol) who quickly became my boyfriend. When I called to let him know, he was sad but understood. "I knew you wouldn't be on the market for long", he'd said, wistfully.

All in all it was a brief, and strange experience, being on that site and going on those dates. Am I glad I did it? I think I am. Well, at least, I'm not super embarrassed about it or anything. *** and self preservation are huge motivators, and boy, was I scared by the thoughts of all the impending legal fees I'd be facing.

In the end though, I just couldn't fully commit to it. Even if I hadn't met my soon-to-be (broke-ass) boyfriend, I probably would have declined a second date with the older gentleman, and dropped off the website.

Turning myself into a commodity--placing a dollar value on my time, my attention, my sexuality just didn't sit right with me. Not that there isn't an allure--who doesn't want to experience fine dining in the company of a distinguished, fascinating man, or to have some extra income. But the reality of it--how it made me feel, in my...soul...that was a feeling that no extra zeros on the bank account could negate.

I have to live with myself, after all. And maybe deep down in that soul of mine, I somehow knew that, even though it was the men that were paying, somewhere, down the line, there would be an even higher price, that I would have to pay.

[Deleted Member]

Thank you for sharing. I found this true story very interesting and educational.