The one call that I hated the most, over my nearly five years in phone work so far, involved a man calling in with his wife, and pressing her to get it on with me. I was so angry at him, for asking me to engage her in nonconsensual activity. I felt like an accomplice. This was real life; someone on the other end was actually being coerced into participation, someone was actually being directly, psychologically abused by their partner, and I was playing along. No other call has ever made me feel even half as sleazy.
Except this guy. He's a close second.
He's a regular when I'm around, he's always so excited the first time I get given his call when I come back from tour, and pretty reliably requests me when I'm consistently around in the evenings. I have no illusions that he, like all of my "seasonal regulars", is perfectly happy with whichever other PSO is handling his call when I'm not available—anyway, since my seasonal availability is self-imposed, I can hardly complain—but I am happy to hear his enthusiasm.
He fantasizes about his wife being a complete cock-hungry slut. (Side note: I kinda like it when guys fantasize about the women in their lives. I mean, in our mutual imagination they could do anything, and they're choosing their wives.) This guy's cuckolding thing is multi-layered: he likes watching her be greedy, he likes the idea of fucking her after a bunch of guys (and a dog) have come in her, and his calls always culminate with a worked-up rant about how loose her cunt is when he's inside her, partly because of how many dicks she's taking and partly, that's just the way her cunt is and that's how small his dick is, relatively speaking. She's loose and he's small, and he likes to see her finally filled up, the way he wishes that she would want it.
So far, so good. He wants his wife to be a slut. I imagine, though I have no stats, that this is probably pretty common. He has talked about taking pictures of her, too. She sometimes agrees to pose, but not always. He tells her that he is just jacking off to them, but I know better. I forget that I know what he does with the pictures, because he doesn't talk about them all the time, but then he mentions them and I remember. And then I feel the sleaze settle on my skin all over again.
He posts them on a fuck-my-wife site. Guys post up shots of their partners, with or without their partners' knowledge, and revel in other guys looking at and talking dirty about their partners. On one call he gave me the link and his log-in name so I could access the site and his photo collection; we sat there for 10 minutes and discussed his wife's body.
This time he mentioned that other guys sometimes posted pictures of printouts of his wife's picture with their come all over it. He also asked if my boyfriend has seen the pictures yet. Shit. I forgot that I said I might show these pictures to my lovers. Shit. I am a terrible liar. Not yet, I say, if I remember I will. Of course I will not show them. Of course I will say that I showed them, and they got so hard. And he will believe me because that is how much he wants images of his wife to be seen by strangers.
I need to remember, this could be all made up. His wife could fully approve of the way he's disseminating her naked images. She could be totally getting off alongside him, but somehow I don't think so. If his wife really doesn't know about this, I hope she finds out and rips him a new one. Hell, I hope she divorces him. In my book, this is a fully divorce-able offense; this is frying-pan-to-the-head territory.
As angry as I am about this betrayal, my anger is muddied a little by my witnessing it, by my complicity and implied approval. It feels a little awful. Unlike all the dead babies and hard-cock ponies and innocent little girls WHO DON'T ACTUALLY EXIST, I think this woman does exist. I desperately hope that he's making her up, but I think she actually is alive and clueless and cooking dinner regularly for this man who loves her and fantasizes about her and has completely sacrificed her right to privacy to his satisfying wank. My job is to help him with that sacrifice.
Some days I don't like my job very much.