perfectly honest

*Intro*



“Why did you become a phone sex actress?” One of my favorite callers asked me during a Thursday evening conversation.



I thought about an answer for a few moments. It wasn’t the first time that question had come up, far from it; callers asked me all the time. This was the first time one of my regular callers asked me in a tone that hinted he really wanted to know the answer.



It would have been easy for me to lie or give a sexy little answer. ‘I’m always horny and phone sex is the only way I can get off all day’ would have sufficed, or something similar, but I felt I owed him more. He was one of the few that called me dutifully, at least twice every week, throughout my career as a phone sex operator. I knew that he could easily afford the expense but that didn’t make me appreciate his calls any less.



After debating with myself I decided to answer and told him the short version of my decision to become a phone sex operator, and the events immediately following my life changing choice. Even with many of the details and side stories clipped out it was a long tale and I often stopped to make sure he wanted me to go on. After all, he was paying by the minute, but he insisted I continue until the end.



When I was finished he gave a low whistle.



“Wow. I never knew all that. Maybe you should right a book?” His enjoyment was not feigned and he seemed flattered that I would share such a personal story with him.



He was sure other callers would be interested in the ‘behind the scenes’ story. I agreed with him and I thought potential phone sex operators would benefit from reading about my experiences. In the end I decided to humor him and satisfy myself by writing bits of my story between classes and after calls.



When it was all said and done I had a pretty decent story that told my own experiences in the phone sex world. It wasn’t just some big erotic novella with dozens of sample calls, instead it was my personal journey as a phone sex operator learning the industry and growing professionally. However, I did decide to change (or simply exclude) the names, of some people and companies.



Why?



Well for starters I didn’t want to out anyone to the public without their permission. A lot of wonderful men and women work in the phone sex industry but, like it or not, there are plenty of people who would look down on them because of their profession. To me maintaining, and respecting, the privacy of my friends in the industry is more important than satisfying the curious masses.



Why not mention the names of various companies? I’d rather not have the owners of those phone sex companies take out a contract on me. Do I sound like a coward? Probably. But can you really blame me for wanting to put the basic story out there without insulting or otherwise pissing off too many people? Face it, I am a small fish in the ocean and I do not like the idea of being eaten alive by sharks. If someone is dying to know the details they can ask me directly.



Do my exclusions affect the story? Not too much. Some readers may be dying of curiosity, others may think they know who I’m talking about, but regardless the story continues and the point is made without putting a neon sign up advertising the name of various companies and people.



If this sounds like the story for you then read on. Hopefully you’ll learn something. If not, well, I’m sorry I wasted your time.



*



*What Was Really Going On*



My story began at 2:00pm one Friday afternoon. I sat on the floor of my studio apartment crying. Why was I crying? For starters my bills, all of them, were months past due. My mail box was full of disconnect notices and I was screening my calls to avoid bill collectors.



In my defense I usually was a very financially responsible young woman. Three months prior to my break down I worked full time evenings at a local vitamin store and I planned to keep working after I started college. My bills were all paid on time until, without warning, the vitamin store went out of business.



Initially I was not worried about my situation at all. As I started scanning the classifieds I thought to myself ‘It was just a job’ and I was sure another, even better, job would come along. One month went by, then two, and I was still unemployed with bill collectors coming out of the woodwork.



I suppose you’re wondering why I didn’t just go to my family for help. It probably would have been the best thing for me to do but I always considered myself to be self sufficient. I insisted on moving out barely a month before losing my job so that I could start my college career totally on my own. This was done over the objections of my parents and two older brothers.



I knew if I went to my parents asking them for help before my freshman year began they would force me to move home. Maybe that would have been easier but I just couldn’t look at my parents and tell them I failed after only a few months on my own. I thought if I kept looking the right job would come and, as if to answer my prayers, I finally received a response from a company.



It was a work at home position that embodied my dream job. I would spend day after glorious day browsing around local used book stores and book fairs for rare and unique books. Then I would be responsible for storing and shipping any book I purchased. The perfect job for someone who loved to read and shop.



On the day of my phone interview I was excited and nervous. In my mind there was no way I couldn’t get the job since I met all of the requirements. I figured the phone interview was just a formality to verify information.



I was dead wrong.



The guy who interviewed me, Tom, was looking for someone with more experience, maturity, and who would ‘fit’ better with the company. He even laughed at my application. That ‘interview’ left me a sobbing, shaking, mess and I spent the remainder of that afternoon in a near catatonic state.



It was hours before I shook myself out of my funk.



I climbed out of bed, ate a snack, and drank a soda. The much needed calorie and sugar boost lifted my spirits a little and I settled onto my couch to watch television and figure out what I was going to do with my life. Out of the dozens of applications filled out over the last few months that jerk was the only person who even decided to give me an interview.



I did receive calls from people who were curious about my application but none of them wanted to interview me. They told me they didn’t hire students or said that I did not have enough experience. This amazed me since most of the companies I applied at were retail stores who I always thought catered to younger, entry level, employees.



As I sat in front of the television brooding and weighing my options a commercial came on advertising some adult chat line. Chat line my ass. I thought irritably. That is nothing but a phone sex line and anyone that thinks differently is fooling themselves.



The girls in the commercial were all terribly thin, ridiculously pretty, and were inviting the invisible audience to call them. I rolled my eyes and started to change the channel wondering who would do something like that. How much money could someone possibly make being a phone sex operator?



I hate to admit it but the question stayed on my mind. Given how much money those phone lines charged per minute the girls answering the phone had to be making some serious cash. I sat back on the couch and let the figures add up in my head. If the average Joe was paying $3.99 a minute or more I figured the operator had to be making at least $2.99 a minute, after all, she was doing all the work.



Translate that into hourly wages and those girls were making more than $100.00 each hour. I found myself wondering what it would be like to be one of those girls. To answer calls from horny guys all over the country, moan, groan, and rake in tons of cash. To be perfectly honest the whole idea appealed to me.



I imagined myself working in some small call center with a little head set and a computer. Calls would come in, my phone would light up, and I would tell some guy about sucking his dick or riding his cock. At the end of the week, I would bring home a nice fat paycheck and live happily ever after. I started wondering how someone could get a job as a phone sex operator.



Now let me take a minute and be perfectly honest. At that point in my life I had, on several occasions, experienced phone sex with boyfriends or guys I randomly dated. It was fun but I would have never considered charging them for it. To me that was too much like prostitution. So what changed that?



I was broke.



That is not a good moral reason to do what I was planning, in fact some would say it was just flat out wrong, but I needed money and suddenly morality was the least of my concerns. As evil as that may seem the all might dollar has mysterious powers. One of those powers was the ability to override my previous objections.



Of course all this moral wrangling could have been avoided if I chose to abandon my thoughts of becoming an audio whore and continued my quest for a G rated job but I was tired. I was so tired of going all over town filling out applications. I was sick of wondering how I would pay my tuition next semester and if I would be able to eat next week.



It seemed to me that becoming a phone sex operator could help me take care of most, if not all, of my problems. Having phone sex for money was much different than physically having sex for money and it was perfectly legal. In fact I was sure I might even be able to work from home as a phone sex operator.



Once I turned the idea over in my head a few times I decided to go for it. Hopefully my age, experience, and education level wouldn’t matter. I was 18, the age of consent, lived on my own, and I was willing to work hard.



Now that I was sure I wanted to break into phone sex professionally I had to learn about the industry. All I knew about the world of phone sex was that it charged per minute and commercials promoting phone sex services ran late at night. Since that knowledge was next to nothing I figured it was time to do some research.

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