Coming Out (and just plain coming)
I have come out about many things in my life. From the time when I was 14 and told my religious parents that I didn’t believe in God, to the coming-out as queer in my early college years, to the lunchroom revelation at age 26, when I confronted my meat-eating head-on (in the form of a savory-smelling take-out box containing sweet-and-sour pork)… for some reason, I have been gifted not only with a decidedly contrarian bent, but also the cast-iron cunt to stand up for it.
Coming out as a sex worker, though, has been a whole new treat in saying the unsayable, to people who I am sure did not bargain for it. I’m not talking about responses in my performance and friendship communities; if my friends and colleagues didn’t expect the career shift, most of them know me well enough to not be at all surprised that I am doing well. It’s the outer circle, the new and/or distant acquaintances, and the business contacts, where the fun begins. Since I started doing phone work, I have had to come out to my two current roommates, a half-dozen potential roommates, two government agencies, a three-person marketing research crew, and all my next-door neighbors (“why are you sitting out on the porch with your cordless phone?”).
In all of these encounters, I have striven for nonchalance, a sort of matter-of-fact breeziness in stating my source of income. But on the inside, I still tremble, knowing the societal bias and fearing for the potential impact my revelation could have on my home and my sustenance. How many people would want to move into a room directly under my work space? (One is enough, and she’s hopefully signing the contract next week.) Will the Department of Transitional Assistance still give me food stamps if they know I’m a phone sex operator? (Yes. My intake worker didn’t even blink.)
What do I do with that fear? I bulldoze through it, the same thing I’ve done with every other coming-out. My silence contributes to the problem; my action, my speech, lets someone know that I am that other. They may be indifferent, or afraid, or curious, or unnerved, or even a little freaked out, but now they have a face to hang that feeling on. And I have one more moment of being fully myself.
For those who want a little less woo-woo and a little more action in their phone-sex blogs, I present the following
What I Did Yesterday
- two (2) peggings (that’s strap-on ass-fuckery), including one with a sissy submissive who was gratifyingly effusive afterwards
- two (2) blow-jobs, not counting fellatio as a bit part in a larger scene
- one (1) “shemale” session (I know, I know, that’s what it’s called in the biz)
- one (1) gang bang at a bachelor party gone awry
- one (1) mean muscular boss lady using very peculiar motivational methods
- one (1) public seduction in a club that would either have gotten us booted out or hired on the spot
- one (1) 20-minute fuck session that would have wrecked a hotel room
- one (1) cuckolding (involving Big Black Cock ™, naturally)
- one (1) housekeeper and her precious teenage ward
- one (1) rape-and-torture session, me on a little girl (more on this in a later post)
- one (1) interview with a caller who was very distracted by his online porn
- one (1) fart and scat session, heavy on the farts
This was an unusually busy day for me; with the recession, business has declined. But that’s a taste of, well, my callers’ tastes.
Have a dirty, delicious weekend, y’all! Stay dry unless you want to get wet, and stay cool unless you are deliberately cranking up the heat. Me, I just gotta keep the phone charged up…
i friggin love your posts. it’s interesting that no matter what one is coming out about, they still have these huge effects on people. like when i came out as queer to my parents. all these thoughts just come out at once, what will they do what will they think how will this change my life forever and how they see me… etc etc. What reactions did any significant others have on this job selection?
I did check with my most significant other before making the leap, and if I didn’t have hir hearty support, I don’t think I would have done it. You cannot live with someone, intimately, who loathes what you do. And even half-assed support when it’s something that’s this tough and all-encompassing–especially at first–would not be helpful. My partner has stepped in with financial support, to help me bridge the gap during a couple of my slower, earlier invoice periods, and zie actually enjoys hearing about my calls.
In general, I do think significant others should be in on the decision to do sex work. Ultimately I’m the one who decides, but it is one hell of a bomb to drop, for sure, especially because you’re dealing with sexuality, etc. Along with this right to give ground-level input is a certain amount of responsibility: if they don’t support it, especially if it’s a gotta-make-ends-meet situation at first, they better be fucking prepared to step up with other options, as good if not better, to make those ends meet.
I’ve heard phone sex operators say that they help
people to accept parts of their sexuality, kinks
like fetish cross dressing and things like that.
So how does that apply to an operator participating in a fantasy about raping and torturing a little girl? Can someone’s willingness to act this out with him on the phone make if feel more acceptable to do?
I went ahead and approved this comment, even though it feels a little like a concern troll , because a) it was respectfully written, b) it’s a question about an item I included on my list of calls I took one day, and c) it echoes questions/concerns that I have received from a couple of my friends when they find out what exactly a no-taboo PSO might end up talking about on any given day.
First of all, the self-acceptance thing that you mentioned, I don’t feel that’s a significant part of my job, or that that’s what I’m accomplishing when I take a call, on any subject, whether cross-dressing or the homosex fantasies or shit-eating or any of it. One time, after a caller finished–I don’t remember what his thing was, but I remember thinking it was unusual–he asked, with real concern in his voice, “I’m not weird, am I?” And I said no. I can always honestly say, honey, there have been other clients with fantasies like yours. You are not a freak. But for the most part, these guys have already accepted their sexuality by calling up a phone line in the first place. That is all they need to do with it. If they are coming to us at all, they know that, for whatever reason, whatever the fantasy, they aren’t going to do it in real life. I’m helping them accept it in their mind–as a fantasy–making it the sexiest fucking fairytale that I can, and get them off.
I _especially_ don’t think that people doing pedo stuff with me on the phone are getting fuel for the fire or some kind of stamp of approval to go out and do the crazy shit we talk about. Why don’t I think that? Because I myself do and have done extreme age- and torture fantasy sharing with my partners, far FAR deeper than any pedo caller has yet taken me, and none of the parties in these sessions has gone out and pillaged the playground.
I’m planning to delve into these issues in other posts, so stick around, Mitch, and this conversation will continue. Word to the wise, though: I am a no-taboo PSO. While I’m willing to have reasonable discussions about why the various taboos are so hot, and I may share some of my own process and struggles of acceptance that has led me to do no-taboo service, I’m not going to debate whether or not I should be doing the calls in the first place. That there’s the flag, folks, I have planted it firmly in the ground, and I will not hesitate to plant it 8 inches deep in troll ass.
Actually, I think you are what is known as a “taboo” PSO. It took me a while to differentiate (sp?)the 2 also, because it sounds as if it should be the other way around.
I just wanted to make a comment about “coming out”, since yesterday I told my brother what I did,… he has always been pretty straight. He said that he feels sorry for me that I feel as if i have to do adult work in order to make money, and that it made him very sad.
This was in an email, and my response? I dont feel as f I have to do this, I choose to do this and I like it so dont feel “sad” (which to me may as well have said disgusted). : (
Oh and one other thing.. could you please sign up for feedburner or something so I can get your posts in my email> I dont want to miss anY!
Hey, Phone Girl, thanks for dropping in!
re: taboo vs. no-taboo, I took on the no-taboo designation because that is what my service calls itself, a no-taboo service, meaning nothing is taboo, everything is on the table, and when you talk with me there are no taboos. I have seen that continuing confusion in phone-sex forums, but that’s my understanding of it.
Coming out, man, it is HARD, no matter what you’re coming out about. I had to go back IN the closet recently with prospective roommates, because my existing roommate thought that me being a PSO was scaring away candidates. No one’s going to say that’s why, because it’s not enlightened to hate on sex workers, but I’m guessing it was partially true. And forget about coming out to my immediate family. They are members of a conservative religion, and they had the hardest time when I came out as a dyke at the age of 19. I remember a conversation that my older brother and I had 10 years after that, where he said he prayed for me every night. Gah! I didn’t _ask_ you to pray for me! Stop praying for me!
To feel that level of disappointment leveled at oneself is a cruel pain, indeed, especially if you love the person.
I think I’m going to deal with the whole “had to do this work” trope in another post. Thanks again for being here! And yes, I will get a feedburner or RSS or something set up very soon…
Thanks for your thoughtful answer. I appreciate hearing your perspective on it. I’ll look forward to reading more.