Confessions of a Phone Sex Girl Pt. 01

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Part One – The Empire of Boss Man

I started out as a phone sex girl but ended up exploring the industry a tad bit more thoroughly. What I thought would be easy cash ended up turning into a lot of hard work. The money was there. The sex industry is a cash cow. That’s no lie. But it takes time and raw effort to make the mula come rolling in.

Most women do these kinds of things from home. They at least began there and expanded outwards. Funny enough, that’s not how it was for me. I was one of the rare ones. I actually found a top secret phone sex call center. If it could be that easy for everyone, we’d all be making top dollar.

Working below someone does have its perks, although it is so hard to come by. It allowed me to learn valuable things before finally venturing out on my own. Believe me when I say, there are tons of things you’ll need to know if you want to be successful. The more varieties you offer, the more money you’ll be able to pull in. When you work for someone they already have an established set of phone lines, making it incredibly easy to learn everything at an alarmingly fast rate. All of the knowledge is in front of you. Trust me when I saw, there is an endless amount of things to learn.

Okay and what about privacy you may ask? Do you ever worry someone may learn about your dirty little secret? How would you handle it? Call centers, I found, diminish the idea of being caught. They’ve already got a bunch of active lines and other girls answering them. So, how do they do it? Simple really.

On average stock photos are relatively cheap. And it’s quite easy to purchase some dirty photos from an online stock company. All you need is a credit card with a couple bucks on it. Viola! Click ‘buy’ and it’s downloaded onto your device. This little trick allows big chat line companies to create hundreds of lines all while protecting the privacy of their employees.

I would honestly say working underneath someone has more perks than it does negatives. Although, I won’t lie. I did find a few things that really grinded my gears. The hugest thing for me was the amount of work and the little bit of money earned. Chat lines are set up by the minute rate where as the ’employees’ make an hourly wage of roughly around sixteen dollars. If a line is two dollars per minute and a call is an hour long that equals out to one hundred and twenty dollars in that hour. Yet, I’d end up making under twenty bucks? That didn’t fly too well with me. Tips are a great way to generate cash flow. Employees are highly encouraged to reach sky high for those tips, but that doesn’t exactly guarantee they get that hard earned money. More often than not the big companies take a large percentage or even all of the tip. I hated being jewed like that. If I put the extra effort in to persuade the caller to send that money I wanted at least half of it.

Another thing that drove me slightly mental was how powerless I was over saying ‘no’ to a caller. Everyone has their limits. One would assume a phone sex girl would have an open mind and for the most part it is true. That being said, there are still some topics I’m adamant about not touching even with a ten foot pole.

How ever, company policies are rules to be followed. My boss was more open minded than most, shall we say? All of the chat lines he’d created were ‘anything goes.’ There was no taboo too taboo for us. That wasn’t okay with me. Some things should never be talked about. There are some kinds of topics that are just plain out uncomfortable. Then there are topics that make a person squirm with disgust. These are the kinds of conversations I’m talking about. He knew my opinions towards the situation. Losing my job at that time was just not an option. It was a thick piece of leather I had to bite off and chew. I was able to do it but not for as long as I wished I would have.

One could guess from my boss’ anything goes mindset that he was an interesting character. Oh Gosh, I don’t even Escort Bayan know where to begin. Interesting was an understatement of a description. My first interview with him was short and vague. No one else had been in the office at the time. I’d never listened in on a dirty call. All Boss Man was searching for was someone who was eager to learn. I was broker than a joke, unaware of what I was about to get myself into and agreed to start the next day. What in the fuck had I really done?

The following afternoon I witnessed something that left me dumbfounded. I was in absolute fucking disbelief. I could not believe my ears. Not only did this petite man own a chatline but he also participated in the work, too. One moment his voice was masculine. I was staring at my computer screen when I heard it switch. It was oddly high pitched and missing his ethnic accent. I remember doing a double take. Like what in the fuck?

So, yes gents, when you call a sex chatline you my very well be speaking to a man who’s perfected disguising his voice. Now, how does that make you feel? I still can’t believe I worked along side that almost every single day for two years. Out of all of the weird things I’ve seen in my time, this one is still at the top of the list.

Duo girl calls with Boss Man were a real bitch. I managed not to giggle … most of the time. Usually I could utilize that giggle. When ever I did threesome calls I turned into the biggest flirt. My personality became almost ditzy. I had no other way to make it through calls with that man and not laughing my ass off. Duo calls with the other girls weren’t at all an issue. But Goddamn, calls with him gave me anxieties of losing my job. I learned quickly not to look at him when we worked together. My livelihood depended on it.

This guy had been at it for over fifteen years when he introduced me to it. Can you imagine the knowledge and experience under his belt? Like most, he began at home. With a little bit of money and a couple of stock photos Boss Man had himself up and running. I always wondered how he discovered his dirty talent and even more so, how he figured out how to put it to use? What an advantage it must have been for him in the sex industry. Usually, a man’s opportunities were very limited.

To a degree I admired the weird fuck. Boss Man was filled with avid determination and drive. He vowed to slay a world he had no business being in, and bloody well succeeded.

Boss Man swore up and down he was heterosexual. Once in a blue moon his girlfriend would come in and see him. She was surprisingly friendly with us girls and knew us all on a first name basis. I was always left wondering where her earned jealousy had run off to. If it was hidden away in some dark crevice, no one was ever finding it. She’d hid it well. Either way, the girlfriend solidified Boss Man was straight, or at least bisexual. The way this man stepped into character left me really pondering it. He was passionate. He got right into it. Sometimes, I wondered if he himself got a bit turned on. I couldn’t see his lap from where my desk was, but I’d imagined a time or two he had been over there stroking his dick through his shorts. His eyes would flutter shut and his face would become ultra relaxed. What the fuck else could he be doing? One time, I swear there was a boner sticking out through his pant leg. So, you could see how I’d be left questioning his sexuality.

Now, I had actually spent time thinking it all over. There were two options I was left with that seemed sort of realistic. Either Boss Man was a closet bi and used this as an outlet to feed his sinful secret OR he was a woman trapped in a man’s body and this was his normal. I never did find out the answer.

How ever, with that being said, I swear my co workers was banging the boss on her fucking desk after we all went home at night. She was gaining way too much perks without any achievements. It made all of us other girls jealous.

Let’s refer to this co worker as Kate. As far as any of us knew, Kate had been with Boss Man the longest. At the very least, she’d been with him since he opened up his business location. That gave her a minimum of eight years.

When I was hired on there were five plain Jane desks with basic computers on them in the massive main room. Boss Man had the large office and one sat vacant next to his. Those were the offices’ with the views. For a good six months we were all in the main room. One day we all came into work and Kate’s’ things were sitting on the desk in the vacant office. Boss Man had no specific reason why he was giving it to her but it was hers.

And you know how women are. Of course we were jealous as fuck. We gossiped and made up nasty rumors about our co worker as some kind of revenge. Things changed quickly in that office. One day all of us were a tight knit group and the next we were alienating Kate the hell away from us. I’ve got no clue how she did it, but that girl toughed her way through it. Maybe the money was good enough. Or maybe Boss Man fed her juicy perk after juicy perk to lure her in.

Eventually a graveyard shift was incorporated into the schedule. I jumped on the idea of twelve hour shifts. They would generate that extra bit of money I’d been needing.

Around that time I had been introduced to cocaine by a flavor of the month boyfriend. I figured I could be super woman on coke and hustle hard. I knew if I snorted enough at just the right times I could easily pull an all nighter; maybe even work late into the afternoon of the next shift.

I had a growing addiction to the mula, and an even more intense one to the cocaine. The more I made, the more bills I seemed to find in the mail. I quickly build up a significant drug debt. My boyfriend at the time didn’t help. He was a bad egg. He was in and out of city cells and embarrassingly enough, it was almost always because of public intoxication. This fucker started withdrawing money from my credit card while I was at work slaving away and using it to buy baggies of coke. The worst of it was he didn’t even save any for me to snort when I walked in the door.

At first I was a total pook about it. It had to be done in my home in my own bathroom. Eventually I was at work doing it in the bathroom at 3 am just so I could make it through to the end of my shift.

Cocaine is one hell of a drug. Oddly enough I began to find myself getting turned on by some of the raunchy calls. It was during this time that my true sexuality began to take form. I was not very old and had limited experiences with the opposite sex compared to my peers. I’d had a couple boyfriends, but none had ever left me jaded. Things began like they normally would at the beginning of each shift. By 2 am I was itching for a line. My eye lids were growing heavy and droopy. I was finding my own yawn contagious.

Needing to do a line was always conflicting for me. I knew in my heart it was wrong. I’d been raised to believe only fucked up people used drugs. Oh, with the exception of pot! Normal people smoked the Devils’ Lettuce. So, it was my body that was the issue. Each time I got jittery for a bump, I felt a little bit gross inside. My greedy fingers were another story. They slyly pulled the snow filled baggy from my jeans’ pocket. It came into view, and every single time my body would proceed to make itself happy.

I’d give it about fifteen minutes before I was getting right into my calls. It always started off professional. It was innocent. I literally couldn’t help myself. These kinks and fetishes the men would call in with got my mind wandering. These were the sorts of things I’d never been exposed to. In a weird way they left me feeling kind of horny. By the ends of my shifts, I’d probably cum three or four times. I could not understand it, but these new grounds of play were thrilling for me. The cocaine opened my mind to those certain taboo topics for me. I found myself exploring and enjoying them.

The drugs also left me outspoken, opinionated and lacking of a proper filter. As open minded as I’d become, there were certain things that still made my blood boil. One of those things were closet pedos. I could not express in words how angry those fucks got me. One of those pukes cost me my job. I’d been adamant for months about the fact of refusing their calls should they come my way. The did not come in often, but once in a while those little slime balls popped up.

“Soooo … how young are you, baby? I’m stroking my dick. How hard are you going to make it?”

Instant anger flashed through my brain. His words triggered past memories. Bad memories. It had only happened a handful of times in those last couple years I was there, but all the pedos started their calls off in a similar way.

I’d been more than straight up about not wanting to take those damn calls. They made me sick. They made me feel violently angry. I knew my job was on the line. I couldn’t afford to lose it. The economy had gone down the toilet and any less of an hourly wage meant my bills were not getting paid. I did my best to redirect the conversation. He wouldn’t have it.

“How young can you be, baby? I like them real young.”

I was starting to get so pissed off I swear I was seeing red. These fuckers always got me raging. Once again I’d done my best to redirect it all, but he continued to take us right back to where we were. Finally, this little puke said a few unmentionable items that put us at a point of no returns. Tempers were already flaring. I’d put in a great attempt to simmer the blazing fires.

Why wouldn’t he let me? I’ve wondered this many times over the years. Did men like this enjoy getting a rise? Was that the actual addiction? The reaction to the shock and awe? Was it even really about the underage role play? Or was it combined in with their sick twistedness?

Well anyways, this son of a gun keeps going with his underage crap questions. What in the fuck was I supposed to do? Of course I absolutely lost my marbles on this pathetic pedo. I layed into him something fierce. I’d imagine if he’d so chosen to find me and press charges for death threats he could have. But I just did not give a flying fuck. I was fed up with these losers being scattered all over the place; some exposed and some still in hiding.

My boss had an eccentric view on it. He believed because of the outlet we provided these perverts they wouldn’t go out and commit these offenses. I thought Boss Man was a lunatic! Are you fucking kidding me? If anything we enabled them and fed their desires.

When the caller hung up in shock, I could feel Boss Man’s eyes burning into me. I didn’t want to look up from my desk. In fact, I was avoiding it at all costs. I knew as I did it I was breaking his rules and I bloody well knew he was in the office, too. I’d just cost him how ever much money. He was always talking about how it adds up when a call is wasted. The man was a stickler for those dimes, yet he had millions.

I heard Boss Man call my name. He sounded so tight lipped. The expression spread across his face when I looked up explained it ALL. I knew my ass was on the line.

“Did he just hang up?”

I did my best to back peddle but I knew I was done for. I let my chin hang and nodded slowly. I knew for damn sure I was being cut loose from the team.

There’s good reasons why people like myself were a few of the rare chosen ones. And damn good reason as to why places such as those remained top secret. Boss Man offered me a fair chunk of change as a pay out. There was a contract for me to sign, as well. He wanted the location of the business to stay top secret. He also wanted any tips and tricks I learned while under his direction to stay hush hush. And last but not least, I was to leave any money I earned out of my taxes.

I was hesitant to take the money. I knew I needed it. In the end, I walked out of that office with a couple thousand dollars and a determination that was going to take me places.

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