"The Ad"

The Ad (Maybe Part 1)
© 2003, KA

“How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
He looked at her, a disbelieving scowl on his face.
She silently reached into her wallet and produced her driver’s license.
“Your ad said you were twenty-one.”
“Would you be here if I’d have said eighteen?”
“No.” he answered honestly.
“Well.”

The waiter delivered his coffee and her diet coke. She looked at him warily, waiting for him to toss a twenty on the table and leave.
He didn’t. Stirring his coffee thoughtfully, he asked “What are you looking for?”
“My ad was pretty specific.”
“We’ve already determined that at least part of your ad was bullshit. I want to know how much of the rest of it is true.”
“All of it.”
“All of it, really?” He looked at her intently over his glasses. “So, when you said you had a few years of experience with this, you were being honest?”
His eyes were intense. She found herself looking down at the white table cloth to escape them. “More or less.”
“I don’t like half-answers.” He set his spoon down on his saucer. “I certainly don’t like dishonesty.” She saw him lean forward, to pull out his wallet, and reached for his hand.
“Wait.”
“For?” He looked up at her, not moving.
“I’ll answer.”
He leaned back a little in his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“My last boyfriend… was older. A lot older.”
“And?”
She huffed. “I wasn’t done.” She sipped her diet coke. “We were together for a year. Little more. He was almost thirty when we broke up.”
He tapped his fingers on his arm, staring at her. An intimidating move. A planned one.
“After we’d been together awhile, I jokingly called him “Daddy” one night. He said that if he were really my daddy, he’d have paddled my ass for my bratty behavior by now, and I told him to go for it.” She shrugged, still not looking at him. “It started there.”
“What was a seventeen year old doing dating a thirty year old?” he asked, his voice full of disapproval.
“I met him at a party. We liked each other.”
“Did you lie to him about your age, too?”
Her lips curled up into a pout. “Yes, at first. I told him before we slept together, though. I thought that was only fair.”
“What did he say to you?”
“He was angry at first, but he got over it.” She sipped at her coke again, crossing her legs under the table.
He was quiet for awhile. “You’re used to getting your own way a lot, aren’t you?” he asked finally.
“Yea, I guess I am.”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“The word is Yes, not Yea.”
“Okay.” She felt a slow heat crawl into her cheeks.
He smiled slightly. “Why did you break up with your boyfriend?”
“He broke up with me, actually. Said I needed to go out and experience some other things before I could make a commitment to him.” The pout returned.
“How long ago?”
“Couple months.”
“Two? Three?”
“Three.”
“Then say that. How long ago did you break up?”
“Three months ago.” She said, the color growing deeper in her face.
“Much better. Good girl.”
Her stomach flipped.
His smile grew. “Back to my original question, and I’d appreciate an answer this time. What are you looking for?”
“I’m looking for Daddy.” She said, in a small voice. She opened her green eyes and looked at him across the table.
“Specifics.”
She thought for a moment. “Correction, discipline, attention, affection…”
“Affection?”
She nodded. “I like to sit on Daddy’s lap and cuddle.”
“How much affection?”
“I like a lot of affection. Especially after I’ve been punished…”
He put one hand down on the table, and slid it over to hers, taking her fingers into his hand. “Are you being intentionally evasive?”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide with an innocence that didn’t look contrived. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Then I’ll tell you what I mean.” He said patiently. “Do you want to…” he squeezed her fingers hard. “… fuck Daddy?”
She let out a noise that sounded like an ‘eeep’ and tried to pull her hand away. When his fingers didn’t budge, she answered. “I do whatever Daddy tells me to do.”
He held her fingers and her gaze for a moment longer, and then let go. A tense silence hung between them before he finally spoke. “Do you know how old I am?”
“The ad said thirty-five.”
“That’s correct. Daddies are honest in their ads. Evidently, little girls are not always so honest.”
She blushed.
“How old are you?”
“I told you, eighteen.”
He sighed. “Let me ask again. How old are you, little girl?”
She understood then what he wanted. “I’m fourteen.”
“And what do you like to do?”
“I collect teddy bears and I like to read Nancy Drew books.”
“Are you a good girl?”
She nodded emphatically. “I try to be good all the time.”
“But sometimes you aren’t?”
She scowled. “No, sometimes I mess up.”
“And Daddy punishes you then.”
“Yes.”
“Do you like Daddy to punish you?” His voice had grown low and soft. They weren’t sitting close to anyone, and the waiter hadn’t been back in the twenty minutes since he brought the drinks. He was trying to cast a protective bubble around them, so that she’d answer his questions without feeling afraid.
“No.” she screwed up her face again. “I try real hard to be good.”
“You don’t like how a spanking from Daddy feels?” he asked.
“Noooo. Spankings hurt!”
He leaned back in his chair again. “Do you miss having a daddy, little girl?” he asked, softly.
She nodded, and bit her bottom lip gently. He looked at her face for any signs of contrived behavior, but saw – and felt none. He reached across the table and took her hand gently in his.
“I want you to do something for me. Will you do it?”
She nodded again.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He said tenderly.
She looked up at him.
“Much better. I want you to go home tonight and write me a letter. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to write me a letter telling me about what you and your last Daddy did, and about what you want your new Daddy to do with you. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl. I’ll expect it in my email in the morning.” He took a long sip of his coffee, and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “I have to go back to work now. Will you be a good girl for the rest of the day?”
The urge to call him Daddy was overwhelming, but he hadn’t told her that was okay yet. “I will be good.”
“Good.” He stood up, and threw some bills on the table. “You finish your soda and get back to school.” He leaned down, gently kissing her cheek, and allowing her smell to permeate his senses. She was wet. He could almost taste it in the air around her.
“I will. Thank you… Sir.” She said quietly.
The first thing I have to do, he thought to himself as he opened his car door, is punish her for lying about her age…