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Archive for Phone Whore

CALL OF THE DAY: the Good Sub

See, you could get out of that in 3 seconds. Give me some _real_ submission, you twit!

See, you could get out of that in 3 seconds. Give me some _real_ submission, you twit!

As you will know if you are a frequent reader of this blog, power exchange over the phone for money is very different from power exchange that you're doing because you legitimately like the person and want to top them into next week. The main difference is this:

On the phone for pay, I may be the domme, but I am never in control.

Almost to a man, my phone subs are pushy, micromanaging, unimaginative brats. I can't tell them to do anything without them whining, and their commitment to doing "anything you want, Mistress" is such patent bullshit that their even using the term Mistress offends me. They want the trappings of submission decorating the activities that they already know and love, which is fine, that's fine! That's what sex work is for, to pay people to do exactly what you want. But as a sub myself, I long for authentic power connection; if I have to dominate someone, I want a sub who is actually paying attention to me, and I've never had that.

Until two weeks ago, when this gentleman called for a 30-minute session. In this first encounter, the caller asked for "soft domme," which in my book generally means "no shouting and no other men involved." Easy enough. We played with a few toys—cock ring, butt plug, nipple clamps, a pair of his wife's panties—and I thought we did well. He was articulate and thorough about answering my few questions; he also seemed to be absolutely compliant about doing whatever activity I was pulling out of thin air. It was nice to get that kind of focus from a sub. I liked him, and hoped that he would call back.

And then yesterday he did, requesting me by name. But the dispatcher told me that he was hoping for something "a little harder" today. She said he asked her if she thought I could "handle" that, and that she actually laughed at him a little bit. She knows what I can do, she hears most of it. But did he give any details about how he wanted it harder? Nope.

Sigh.

My most recent experience with Extreme Sub has not led me to expect getting helpful responses from my phone subs. But with this new guy, because he had been so responsive during that first call, I decide to start the "harder" with more control. If I own the conversation, then I get to steer it in whatever way is useful to me.

I understand you asked about going harder today.
"Yes."
The issue with that is there are many ways that I could take this harder. Are we talking more actual pain, or just more extreme fantasies?
"Um."
Look, <name>, you seem like an intelligent man, so I'm telling you up front. I'm not psychic. The more you talk to me, the better this is going to be for both of us.
"No, I know, I'm just thinking about how to frame my answer."

What customer takes time in phone sex to frame their answer?

Okay, we're going to talk a little, I said, and then I'm going to make sure that you come early enough so that we have a few minutes to debrief on the other side. He agreed. I asked him what was his "real-life" experience was with being dominated (non-existent); where did he find out about being dominated then (he named a couple of web sites that I will have to check out); what his room's layout was (so I could have a better picture of the action). I asked whether he wanted to be humiliated (no), or whether he wanted to talk about involving other men in the scene (no).

The more I asked, the more I was making it clear that, as his dominatrix, I had the right to ask. I also had the right to command. When pressed, the caller said that he thought the power dynamic might be the most attractive element of this temporary relationship, but he would take pain for me. Yes, I said, you will, but we need to find out how much and what sort.

So, after I told him to put that butt plug in, I then had him tie his balls up tight, and then beat them with a long shoe horn. (No, I didn't ask for that, I originally asked for a ruler, but this was all he had in his room like that.) Then I had him slowly untie his balls while stroking off with the other hand. He came on a plate on my command, and licked it up--something he had wanted to try last time, and apparently enjoyed--and then caught his breath, laughing, while I teased him about how much he clearly liked that. And then the debrief.

How are your balls?
"I think they're fine. ... They're pretty good, actually."
Ah, invigorated, huh?
(He laughed.)
I have two things for next time, if there's going to be a next time with me.
"Yes, ma'am."
First, I want you find a pair of your wife's panties that are not beige or charcoal. I want to see something prettier on that dick.
"Yes, ma'am."
Secondly, you need to find a ruler or a chopstick or a knitting needle. Something that is going to sting when you slap it against your skin. I prefer the stinging action.
(audible swallow) "Yes, ma'am."

I think that was "a little harder" enough.

*******

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CALL OF THE DAY: sissy, cocksucker, foreign flag-kisser

They can see the size of your dick through those panties, and they find it laughable...

They can see the size of your dick through those panties, and they are laughing...

If even a fraction of my callers' stories are true, then the world around us is seething with transgressive, filthy sex that most of us have no notion of. If none of them are true, then some of my callers are blessed with glorious imaginations and I would never call them on the veracity of their tales, because who wants to cock-block imaginations like that?

This guy is a prince among the imaginists.

First of all, he shows up for the calls prepared. He knows what he wants to tell me about—purportedly real-life, recent scenes involving humiliation, forced sissification, and "coerced" cocksucking—and he is really good in the telling of them, going slow enough and leaving enough pauses where I can interject and ask embarrassing clarifications or the essential elaborations about how much he loved that particular moment and why (I bet that was humiliating, wasn't it, your wife watching that?). We have established a good pacing in the joint performance, and he sticks with it.

He also has a very keen sense of his own humiliation hierarchy, and keeps the pool of players well stocked and rotated. The Latino gardeners from the tennis coach's house, they are regulars. Lately his computer has been acting up a lot, so of course the Geek Squad guy is showing up pretty frequently. (Your hard drive is really close to full, I wonder what's … hmmm, what is in this file marked "Pretty in Pink"? Ah-HA, I'm going to need to transfer these out into an external drive. And also BLACKMAIL, DUH DUH DUHHHHH.) See what I mean? Exciting! And I don't have to come up with any of it! It's great!

In today's sissy adventures, we stepped fully into international intrigue, when he told me that he was in Las Vegas last week, and happened to receive a call from a Pakistani guy who runs an adult video store there. He hadn't made a visit in five months at least, and this guy, you know, he has footage. So of course he has to go.

When my caller got to the store, the man wasn't there, but his wife was. Was she wearing traditional clothes? I asked. "Yes," he said. "She took me back to the office, and then made me get undressed while she took off her burqa, I guess it is?" I murmured assent, because of course very religious Muslims would be running an adult video store in Las Vegas. (Imaginism does not care for accuracy or likelihood. Only POSSIBILITIES.)

Underneath the burqa the Pakistani woman was wearing a blouse and a skirt, which is also very traditional Pakistani attire (/snark). She was very busty, as my caller likes the women in his scenes to be, and she waited impatiently while he stripped and changed into the bra and panties and shoes that were set aside in a file cabinet in there. (All good adult video stores should be stocked for such eventualities!) While he knelt at her feet, she reached into a closet and pulled out … wait for it… a Pakistani flag. And made him kiss the edge of it.

You kissed the Pakistani flag? I asked, trying to pitch my voice the right way. I knew he wanted me to be shocked and disgusted; all I could feel was laughter trying to bubble up.

"Yes," he whispered. Humiliated, he was, and all the harder for it.

The lady then put the Pakistani flag away and kicked him, cursing in what he said was Arabic (PAKISTANIS SPEAK URDU, possibly Pashto or Punjabi, but not Arabic, unless they're quoting the Quran). He said she called him a "pig", so maybe she was quoting the Quran. You are a pig, I said, and if they're Muslim, that is a serious insult.

"I know," he said.

He went on to describe how she took an American flag from the top of the desk. The flag was already tattered and wrinkled, and she dropped it on the ground in front of him and stepped on it, wiping her feet on it and cursing at him some more in the unspecified Scary Brown-Person Language. She then drove him out into the main room with a riding crop, paraded him in front of her countryman who was staffing the rental desk, and then, when her husband arrived, hustled him back into the office, where he made my caller kiss the Pakistani flag again and then worship his cock. He's gonna wipe your face with the American flag, I said, and then my caller came.

I know that the racial politics of this are problematic. I know it, and probably my caller knows it. But I don't say anything about that. This is what he wants. And honestly, I feel like this caller might just be my canary in the mine shaft. His libido, his particular brand of humiliation play, seems to be intimately and responsively tied to current trends in white America's racial fears.

If only he called more often, I could use him as a sociological barometer for what I already know.

*****************

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