6. You’re probably familiar with phone sex and cam sex, but expensive sexting is also something you can pay for. (via)
I used to be a text sex operator. In the back of British newspapers and magazines there used to be a series of adverts saying things like “text BABE to 83777 to speak to a hot girl in your area”. There may still be, I don’t know. I was one of those babes (well, several). I’m a dude by the way.
Out of all of our crazy regulars two sprind immediately to mind. We had pseudonyms for all of our regulars, created by whatever operator happened to have a moment of inspiration when dealing with them. So let’s talk about 10,000″ Stan first.
His fetish was enormous breasts. Chats with him revolved around a magic substance called “expandium” – I don’t know whether he invented this or one of the other operators did. It caused the breasts to swell, and he would insist that the girl stuffed her breasts with it. Every session went the same way. He’d say “how big are they now? I bet they hurt! Shove some more in!” and you’d have to pretend to shove your boobs full of the stuff until they were as big as planets. As funny as this initially was, his sessions went on for hours and we had guidelines about how descriptive and expansive our replies had to be. We had to fill the whole 140 character message with original text time after time and he’d just text back “more! Do it again!”
The other regular that’s worth talking about was Prakash Boringest Man. As the pseudonym suggests, this dude was dull. He worked in a furniture store (in the warehouse part) and he didn’t even want to jack off that often, he just talked about his day. His really boring day. For hours. Bear in mind messages received by this service were charged at £1+VAT. He spent huge amounts of money having dull conversations with a fictitious girl. I occasionally wonder how this guy is doing. I’m pretty sure the service I worked for has long since shut down – I wonder if he graduated to actual hookers. He’d be spending about the same amount of money and at least he’d have a real woman to talk to…
…I only did it for a few months but it was decent money for a second job and I could do it from my sofa.
7. This story comes not from a stripper but from the club DJ who heard it from the very upset women who had a very lucrative deal ruined by a dumb co-worker. (via)
I was a strip club dj for a bit… Had this one odd duck that would come in and pay girls like $200.00 to piss in a glass for him… This happened several times, then once the girl took it to a bouncer and had him pee in it. She took it back to him, he took one sniff and said “this is a man’s urine” Left, and never came back while I worked there.
At this point, a helpful commenter confirmed that the two smell different enough that ladies’ and men’s bathrooms have distinct odors. We’ll take their word for it. Responded the DJ:
…She wasn’t smart… and many of the girls were upset with her for screwing it up for them later.
8. This may not be “weird,” but it has a really happy ending. No, not like that, you creep. (via)
(Throwaway Account) My current SO was an Escort and we met through her work. I was her strange client. I was a law student at the time and had lost my previous SO to suicide. I really had a hard time “dating” (because of time constraints, etc) so, I paid an Escort to ‘date’ me. She would come over, and we’d made dinner, watch TV, fool around, take naps and generally be “boyfriend/girlfriend” on Saturday afternoon and evening.
We did this for over 6 months: every Saturday, she’d come over. She’d put on more comfortable attire and we’d decide on something to eat, either making it or getting take-out. Eventually she began to tell me what kinds of food she liked and what shows/movies she wanted to watch. I’d take initative and tell her what kind of sex I liked… and she did too. After a few months, we’d take afternoon dates to the park or to the movies.
Six months in, she’d stop leaving first thing on Sunday morning and we’d instead have breakfast, or go for a walk. Then it escalated to her showering Sunday morning and spending most of the day. I didn’t know if she wanted more money, so one Sunday I offered extra cash and she became quiet and said that she liked me and didn’t want to do this anymore as she thought it was hurting me. I told her I liked her…..
…. seven years later, I’m an associate partner at a firm and she teaches high school English. No one knows how we met or what she used to do. It’s like our weird little secret. We have this funny story that will probably go to the grave with us.
*Edit: still an ex-escort.
9. Of all the outlets for sex work, the domme/sub profession seems to have the best opportunities to say “no” to bad weird stuff and to say “yes” to good weird stuff. (via)
Former Pro-Domme here. Client wanted me to scald him in a tub until he passed out, revive and repeat for several hours. I said hell no.
Client had a fantasy about being forced into a leotard and legwarmers and forced to do jazzercize with my canes as motivation. I did that and it was awesome.
10. Some people apparently use phone sex operators for purposes entirely different than arousal or even therapy—business consulting. (via)
Former phone sex operator here.
I had a repeat client who NEVER wanted to talk about anything sexual. He would call each time he came up with a new business model or pitch for his business: skirts for men. He was a cross-dresser.
I would spend at least 45 minutes listening to him practice the presentation he was going give to the bank or whatnot. I was expected to take notes and give critiques. Once he realized that I would actually do this, he would also call me back when he changed something.
He was one of my favorite customers because he was a gentleman and he always upped my average call time.
