Last night I had my first Skype call with my wanna-be sugar daddy, dear reader. Except, he’s not REALLY a sugar daddy – he’s a married man; middle aged; professional; relatively well off; who wants to control, spank and have discrete sex with an attractive young woman who DOESN’T have any interest in his money.

Okay. Well, Mr X, I guess I don’t have any interest in your money, but I do have an interest in my own health – emotional, physical, psychological. I also have to find you attractive to want to let you spank me.

Nota Bene: before we could proceed with any conversation at all, Mr X was adamant that I send him video of me touching myself. A trust building exercise, he said. I was feeling reckless. I’ve been abused by men before, why not let it happen again. Why not give up my control and be made to feel like a whore.

I sent him the video. I’d felt slightly pressured into it, but I did it anyway. Because I wanted to find out more about who he was, and what he liked, and why he was searching online for a discreet, non-sugar-but-do-what-he-wants relationship.

He had three rules.

#1 – You follow the rules

#2 – You don’t ask for money

#3 – You don’t ask any questions which I do not want to answer.

Okay, Mr X. That sounds… clear. So I opted not to ask him ANY questions at ALL, which has been quite fun, actually, because I know that he wants me to be curious about him. Oh, and the rules weren’t laid out, so I don’t know which rules I am or am not following. HILARIOUS.

Red flags. So many red flags.

Right!?!? That’s what I think. But, being like I am, dear reader, I continued to play his little charade.

Aren’t you a lesbian!?

Well, yes. I suppose if you had to put me in a little box with a ribbon on it, you could call me a lesbian. If that’s what makes you comfortable. Actually, I don’t believe we have a static ‘state’ of sexual orientation, I believe it changes from day to day, and from experience to experience.

So… why are you on a sugar daddy website?

Boredom, my dear reader. Boredom. I have Daddy issues. Daddy beat poor little me. Boo-hoo, cry me a river – I’m fine, so don’t feel sorry for me. I’ve been searching for some father-like figure to spend time with. I don’t want to have sex with men. Ew. No offence guys, but I am just not strictly dickly. Can’t get down with the sausage. Don’t enjoy the weiner-schnitzel. Sometimes penises excite me, and a lot of the time when I see a guy I find attractive, I absolutely want to climb him like a tree and kiss him etc…. But god knows where that comes from. Could be social conditioning, could be hormones, could be animal instincts (It FEELS pretty animalistic to be honest).

You’ve just completely digressed.

Oops – sorry, my darling dear. It does happen. My little sister tells me I do that a lot. Speaking of sisters, do you – ha ha. Jokes.

So anyway, this Mr X began treating me like an object of sex from the word GO. He would demand to see a photo, and if I was reluctant the threat was that he wouldn’t continue to speak with me. Controlling, definitely. I’m a smart woman, and he doesn’t know how smart yet.

And then I finally got to see his face last night on Skype – yes, I hadn’t seen what he looked like until then due to ‘discretion’ – oh apparently he’s incredibly well known in the world – *puts two fingers down throat*.

He was in a white bathrobe, having got out of his sumptuous shower in his hotel in Paris. We had a pleasant conversation, where I playfully guessed at his biological heritage. The first time I got it completely wrong that he said if I didn’t spank myself for insulting him, he’d hang up the Skype call. I obliged. I continued to make pleasant conversation, and then we said good night.

This morning, I have deleted and blocked him.

He problem is, he never asked me what MY rules were. And those are:

#1 – Never treat me like an object of sex (unless you’re specifically paying for my sex, which would never happen because that’s not my sort of thing, at the moment).

#2 – Never try to control, threaten or manipulate me. I’m smart and high functioning, and I have survived horrors which have made me strong.

#3 – Expect the unexpected from me. Expect adventure. Expect passion. But only expect it if I see mutual respect.

Onwards, dear reader! Ever onwards.

Published by Jessica Young