How this came about · September 2026

ONE DOMAIN. THEN A WHOLE PROJECT.

I wanted GDUBS.com. Its $12,395 asking price led me to ask what decades of holding an unused domain actually add. I built this site to examine that question. Then the domains I registered for the project became the subject of a post-payment ID review and account lockout.

The origin

The name I wanted to use

GDUBS.com was personal to me. The name was available only through an aftermarket seller, with an asking price of $12,395. I made a $400 offer through a GoDaddy broker.

On September 23, the broker relayed the seller’s answer: the seller considered the price appropriate based on its market and potential-buyer research, would not consider an offer, and regarded $12,395 as the best price. The response also said the seller’s prices tended to rise over time. The broker told me the domain had been registered since 2003 and, to her knowledge, had never hosted a website. That last point is information relayed to me by the broker, not a complete historical hosting audit.

The gap stuck with me. At Whois.com’s then-current $13.48 annual registration price, 23 years would total about $310.04; my $400 offer was about $90 above that illustration. Registration prices have changed over time, and this calculation says nothing definitive about what the seller paid, its other costs, or the market value of the name. But it made the question vivid for me: what value had been created while the name sat unused, and what part of the asking price came from controlling access to a name someone else wanted to put to work?

I felt frustrated by the answer and by the suggestion that waiting longer might only make the name more expensive. I decided not to pay $12,395. I wrote back that I intended to document the exchange and look at the wider economics of domain speculation. That was the immediate spark for DomainSquattersSuck.com—a research and advocacy project about parked names, asking prices, actual use, and the experiences of people trying to build things online. GDUBS.com became its first case study.

I also understood that ordinary domain investing and trademark-based cybersquatting are different things. The site’s blunt name reflects my criticism of a practice; it is not a claim that every aftermarket listing is unlawful. I wanted to test the justifications for the market against documented examples, not assume every seller’s costs or motives.

The names I registered

On September 23, I registered five project-related domains: domainsquatterssuck.com, domainsquattingsucks.com, domainsheldhostage.com, dotcomsquatter.com, and domainprick.com. They were $13.48 each, $67.40 total. I received payment receipts and registration confirmations, and I began using the names for the project. Then the registration process itself became part of the story.

The documented first case

THE NUMBERS AND THE RECORD.

The listing and registration snapshot show the asking price and an original registration date. The broker's written response records the $400 offer and the seller's position. The comparison below uses today's registration price only as a transparent benchmark.

What the broker told me

GoDaddy submitted my $400 offer on September 22. The seller's September 23 response held to $12,395 and declined to consider an offer. The listing also advertised a 24-month payment plan of $516.46 per month.

Original registration date shown in WHOISOct. 3, 2003
2026 expiration date shown in WHOISOct. 3, 2026
Annual terms in that span23
23 × $13.48 benchmark$310.04
My offer above benchmark+$89.96
Seller ask above my offer+$11,995
Seller ask vs. benchmark≈ 39.98×
Written broker response, Sept. 23, 2026

GoDaddy's broker relayed that the seller believed the domain was appropriately priced based on its market and potential end users, would not consider offers, and required the buyer to reach the $12,395 asking price. The same response cautioned that this seller's prices tend to increase over time.

Important distinction: Historic .com pricing has changed, and the current registrant may not have owned GDubs.com for its entire registration history. The $310.04 figure is therefore a present-day retail benchmark, not an assertion that HugeDomains actually spent $310.04 acquiring and maintaining this specific domain. The point is to make the magnitude of the asking price visible using a simple, reproducible comparison.
As documented by messages and account records

How it unfolded

Five names, five confirmations

I registered the project domains and received receipts and completed-registration emails. Pay.pw later wrote that the September 23 transactions had been processed and credited to my Whois.com account.

Record: payment receipts, registration confirmations, Pay.pw message.

The ID and selfie request

Pay.pw said that, because this was my first transaction, identity verification was required to approve it and protect the account. Its message requested a color copy of the cardholder’s government-issued photo ID and a selfie through a Jumio link, with a 24-hour response window. The email did not identify a specific law or ICANN rule requiring that particular method.

Record: Pay.pw verification message in case #53457372.

Locked out while trying to resolve it

My Whois.com login was rejected, password reset was blocked by the suspension, and the usual support path led back through the account I could not access. I wrote to Whois.com asking it to confirm the account and domain status, restore access, and explain whether the ID/selfie demand came from an internal policy, a payment provider, law, or ICANN. During this period, I and others could not reach the site. I could not manage its DNS. I do not have a complete DNS change log establishing the precise technical cause of the outage.

Record: my September 24 support message, subsequent correspondence, site-access observations.

The request was genuine, but the reason stayed broad

Whois Sales confirmed that the risk-management email was legitimate and described the request as first-transaction payment and account-security verification. It directed me to reply to the existing risk-review case. That answered whether the message was authentic; it did not answer why a government ID and live selfie were necessary for these purchases.

Record: Whois Sales response.

My objection was to the method and the timing

I declined the government-ID and selfie upload. I asked for the contractual or legal basis, a human review or less intrusive alternative, and restoration of access. Pay.pw described Jumio verification as the only method it could accommodate and said completion was required before it could proceed. It later explained that reviews occur after a purchase is completed, then asked what the domains were for and how I planned to use them. I explained the research and advocacy purpose of this site.

Record: correspondence in the risk-review case.

“We have decided to approve them.”

Pay.pw emailed that, after further review, it had decided to approve the transactions. I had not submitted the requested government ID or selfie. DNS was restored, multiple people confirmed the site was reachable, and I logged in to Whois.com without trouble. The account showed all five domain registrations active, with expiration dates of September 23, 2027.

Record: Pay.pw approval email; my account screenshot and independent reachability confirmations.
The correspondence

SEVEN REPLIES. THE SAME CORE QUESTIONS.

In the retained thread, I received two replies from Whois Sales and five Pay.pw follow-ups before the approval message. That count excludes the original verification demand, automated registration notices, and the final approval. I sent repeated replies asking about the timing, disclosure, governing term, alternatives, account access, DNS impact, and refund path.

Whois Sales: two replies

The first confirmed the risk message was genuine, cited first-transaction security, and told me to complete verification through the existing case. After I asked whether the demand came from law, ICANN, a payment network, or internal policy, the second called it an internal fraud-prevention and risk-management measure—then again urged me to complete the process. That answered one question, but did not identify a prepayment disclosure or the particular contract term I had requested.

Pay.pw: five follow-ups

The responses described general fraud prevention, said Jumio was the only method they could accommodate, issued a replacement link with a six-hour deadline, repeated that verification was needed before account activation, and offered reassurance about handling the data. Later, Pay.pw explained that reviews start after a completed purchase and asked the purpose of the domains. Those answers still did not identify the exact checkout disclosure or contract provision I had asked to see.

The polite tone made the loop more maddening, not less. I was trying to resolve a locked account and an inaccessible site, while the next response often returned to the same instruction to use Jumio. In one escalation I listed seventeen specific questions so there could be no confusion about what remained unanswered. I wanted a person who could address the account, the registrations, and the service impact—not another link.

This is a count of distinct replies preserved in the email chain, not a claim that every employee sent identical text or that no question was ever answered. Their eventual approval also does not tell me which part of the correspondence caused the decision.

My immediate reaction

Why the review felt personal

I understand that a merchant may review a payment for fraud. But from my side, I had paid, received registration confirmations, and put a live research site online. Suddenly I was being asked to upload a government ID and a live selfie, and I could not get into the account to manage my domains. The timing was alarming. I was angry at being locked out and worried about a website I had just begun using.

I also felt targeted. I had just registered names critical of domain speculation and the way domain access is controlled. When the account was suspended, I could not help wondering whether the names or the purpose of the project had played a part. That was my reaction, not an established explanation. The message I received cited first-transaction security review. I have no evidence showing that the subject of the domains caused the review or the suspension.

My concrete question remained: why take payment and confirm registrations, then require a government ID and live selfie before giving me control of the domains? I had completed ordinary email contact verification. I wanted the basis for the additional demand, who required it, and another way to resolve the review. I was determined to push back without giving up the names or the site.

“Following a further review of the transactions, we have decided to approve them.”

Pay.pw approval message, received September 27, 2026.

The later approval shows that these transactions were approved without my submitting those documents. It does not tell me what risk signal triggered the original request, what internal review changed the decision, or whether the merchant could have asked for verification under its terms. Those questions remain unanswered in the correspondence I have.

Outside the support loop

Looking for a way through

I did not want to lose five paid registrations or leave the research site inaccessible while a support exchange went in circles. I copied and contacted ICANN Contractual Compliance during the escalation. It acknowledged my emails under two case references, 01668632 and 01668767, and said that a formal complaint would need to be submitted through its online form. These were acknowledgments of contact, not findings that Whois.com had violated an ICANN obligation. I do not have a record of submitting that formal web form.

I also researched the PublicDomainRegistry support route and the ICANN registrar listing for PDR as ways to get beyond the reseller support loop. My escalation said I was involving the sponsoring registrar. The correspondence preserved with this draft does not show a separate PDR acknowledgment or completed complaint, so I cannot represent that as a confirmed filing.

I believe the prospect of outside scrutiny may have helped get the case reconsidered. The approval followed the escalation, but timing alone cannot tell me why Pay.pw changed its decision. I have no internal review notes or statement tying approval to ICANN, PDR, or any other contact.

Where things stand

The result, and what it does not prove

What I can verify

The five registrations are in my account. Pay.pw approved the transactions. I can log in and manage the account. The domain resolves again, and other people have reached the website.

What I cannot claim from this record

I cannot establish that a law was broken, that the domain names themselves were removed from the registry, or exactly which DNS action caused the outage. The messages also do not reveal Pay.pw’s internal decision process.

My practical point is simple: the service was restored and the transactions were approved after I refused the specific ID/selfie procedure. The time spent locked out of a paid account and unable to manage a live site is part of the experience, even though the final result was favorable.

The paths considered

RESOURCES AND COMPLAINT ROUTES

These official pages and notices were considered while preparing possible complaint action. An acknowledgment, a drafted complaint, and a filed formal complaint are different things. Apart from the ICANN email contacts described above, the preserved record does not establish that I submitted complaints through the channels below.

Registrar and ICANN

Consumer and privacy routes considered

What these links mean: They document routes considered for a possible escalation. Their inclusion is not an allegation that any agency found wrongdoing or that every route applies to this transaction.
Private source file

What supports this account

  1. September 23 GoDaddy broker correspondence recording the $400 offer, $12,395 asking price, seller response, and the broker’s statement about the domain’s historical use.
  2. September 23 receipts and completed-registration emails for the five names.
  3. Pay.pw’s verification request and subsequent messages under case #53457372.
  4. Whois Sales’ confirmation that the request came from its Risk Management Team.
  5. My support correspondence documenting the account lockout and the questions I asked, including a seventeen-question escalation.
  6. ICANN Contractual Compliance acknowledgments for email contacts 01668632 and 01668767, with instructions to use the online form for a formal complaint.
  7. Pay.pw’s September 27 approval email.
  8. A September 27 account screenshot listing five active registrations; contemporaneous confirmations that the site was accessible again.
About the source material: The original messages and receipts are retained privately. Any future exhibits should have account identifiers, receipt numbers, email headers, verification links, tokens, personal contact information, and account-access details removed before publication.