I
April
1
Callum
Callum felt ridiculous,sitting on his bed, cursor on the screen of his phone blinking at him. Taunting him. This shouldn’t be so hard,especiallyafter the awful date he’d had the night before. He glanced down at his wrist and rubbed absentmindedly at the fading scratches on the top of his arm. Yeah, last night definitely hadn’t gone well. But Callum hadn’t ever had a good track record in the significant other department.
From his last serious partner, Ian, to the disastrous date he’d had last night, Callum was resigned to the fact that meeting people in Los Angeles was awful. His friends assumed that working at a kink club like Rapture was the equivalent of getting paid to spend your weekends in prime pick up territory, but nothing had been further from the truth. He spent his weekends working, mixing drinks for people who got to do all the fucking and playing he wanted to be a part of. It was near impossible to meet people during the week, and when he got off work, he just wanted to fall into bed.
Online dating seemed to make perfect sense. He could find someone to talk to and build that intimacy he was craving, but not have to worry about melding schedules to set dates on his days off. No scrambling for attention between the hours of five and seven at night like he’d tried to do so many times before.
The trade-off, of course, meant he also didn’t have anyone to wake up next to, no one to kiss and cuddle with. No one to fuck.
The site Callum had finally decided to sign up on, though, would serve a two-fold purpose. Far beyond his desire for emotional companionship, Callum had some other desires he needed to admit to. He stared at the screen and took a deep breath before he typed.
Twenty-six year old vers bartender in LA looking for long-distance Daddy. Very serious, there’s no need to meet. Online only is fine. My schedule is difficult, but I hope to find someone who wants the same things as me.
Callum read the introduction over again, not entirely happy with it, but not sure what else to say. Before he could second-guess himself, he hit publish.
CJ1992 was live.
Callum dropped his phone onto the bed and fled the room, drinking a bottle of beer in his kitchen and picking through a bag of stale potato chips. It was mostly the little small pieces that stuck to your fingers left in the bottom of the bag. He’d need to make time to go to the store before work tomorrow. He crumpled the bag and shoved it in the trash, finished off the beer then went back into his bedroom.
There was a chat box on the app, and a little green dot was blinking when he picked his phone back up. Someone had already messaged him. Callum re-arranged himself against the wall and opened the message.
DaddyJM: No need to meet? That seems uncommon.
CJ1992: No time.
DaddyJM: But you have time to chat?
CJ1992: I’m a bartender. When most people are asleep, I’m at work.
DaddyJM: What’s your name?
CJ1992: Callum.
DaddyJM: Nice to meet you, Callum. What are you looking for in a Daddy? Your bio is noticeably vague.
CJ1992: I’m not sure, honestly.
DaddyJM: ??
CJ1992: I’ve never had one.
DaddyJM: Then how do you know it’s what you want?
CJ1992: I’ve read about it, and I know people. Like, I’m not a prude or anything. I know what that kind of relationship means.
DaddyJM: I didn’t think you were a prude. Just surprising that someone is looking for a Daddy online with no intention to meet as their first foray into the lifestyle.
CJ1992: Well, I am.
DaddyJM: You never answered my question.
DaddyJM: What do you want in a Daddy?
