Chapter 2
Misty
S till, curiosity killed the cat, and when I get home later that night, I decide to check out Sweet Lies.
After adding a bit of text, my profile is finished and the site admits me to its main page.
What are you looking for? a pop-up prompts. Immediately, I click “Men only.” No need to dither over that selection.
Then, a bunch of profiles populate my screen, and I recognize my mistake immediately because none of the male profiles have faces attached.
Instead, most of them are torso or full body shots, revealing bronze chests, six pack abs, and thick, muscular thighs.
The men are sculpted and masculine, like a collection of headless Greek gods.
Oh my god, what was I thinking, including my face in the photo? How could I be so na?ve?
But then I remember that my profile is private, so I’m safe. No one knows that Misty_18 is me. In fact, no one even knows I’m on the site at the moment. Relieved, I begin to click around.
Shockingly, what Jenna said is true. Many of the men seem to be looking for platonic dates.
There are quite a few men looking for dinner companions, buddies for movie showings, and women to accompany them to musical concerts.
There’s even one man offering Taylor Swift concert tickets!
Wow, he’s probably getting a lot of hits.
But there are bizarre postings too. They’re weird, and I’m not sure what to make of them.
For example, one guy is asking to watch a sugar baby get dressed in the morning, while another wants to watch her brush her hair.
Are these people serious? I squint to read his accompanying text, and to my surprise, this guy isn’t even looking to meet in person.
He just wants to watch a woman brush her hair over Zoom .
.. and he’s willing to pay five hundred dollars for the experience.
My eyes pop open as I jerk forward with surprise.
I didn’t know virtual dates were an option!
For some reason, I thought that everything would be in person because with the site’s sky-high prices, I thought the clients would expect white-glove service.
But evidently, Zoom is a very real possibility.
Suddenly, my interest level ratchets up because on-line dates are definitely doable.
I wouldn’t be in any danger at all. In fact, I’d be sitting in my dorm room the entire time, safe and sound, wearing pajamas while conversing with a man through the screen.
Sure, he’d see my face and I’d probably have to call him “Daddy,” but for five hundred bucks, I’m willing to chance it.
Why not? My heart starts racing as I begin browsing through the site in earnest. This could be the answer to my current financial problems.
My eyes scan the profiles, looking for the perfect opportunity.
Then, I see it. There’s one in the bottom corner of the screen, and like the others, the profile pic consists of a rugged masculine chest ripped with muscle.
The pecs are heavy and slab-like, and there’s a full six pack beneath it, as a trail of dark hair arrows towards the waistband of his jeans.
Yummy. Even better, Mountain_Daddy is terse and to the point when it comes to his ad.
Looking for my princess , he writes. I want to watch you apply make-up as you get ready to go out. Zoom only. Compensation $500.
Immediately, I click “Connect with this user,” before typing a short intro about myself.
Hi! I respond. I don’t usually wear much make-up, but I love to try new things and explore. Maybe you could teach me a thing or two about cosmetics? Write back and let’s find out together!
I hit “send,” and then immediately regret it.
Oh god, what have I done? Am I really pimping myself out like a streetwalker?
Why did I even write what I did, anyways?
I should have said something like, “I wear enough make-up for a drag queen, and will spend three hours putting it on for you to make sure you get your money’s worth! ” Ugh. I’m failing from the start.
Still, desperate times call for desperate measures, and I don’t have any other options.
Even worse, my stomach chooses at that moment to growl, and shaking my head, I drag myself two steps to my emergency stash of food, which at this point consists of .
.. nothing. I check my wallet, and there’s only a bit of loose change in the coin pouch. Not even enough to buy a single banana.
Suddenly weary and exhausted, I open my medicine bag and take a dose of St. John’s wort.
I just need to go to sleep, and the herbal remedy always puts me out like a light.
Then, I climb into bed and wait for slumber to claim me while lying perfectly still.
Hopefully, my sugar daddy gets back to me quick .
.. because this sugar baby needs his help.