CALL OF THE DAY: white lines and mysterious powders
The calls that require the most acting from me are the ones in which I am supposed to be submissive, which is funny, on the surface of it, because in my real sex life I can be incredibly submissive in certain very specific ways. But a) that submission is happening with people who I know and trust, and b) most of my “dom” callers have only the dimmest, most cartoonish, broad-stroke understanding of power dynamics (see Extreme Top), so the scenes they lay out are laughable, and I have to enter into those scenes and make them work somehow.
The calls that require the second most acting from me are the ones that involve drug use. I don’t have enough (read: any) personal experience with harder drugs like crack or cocaine or meth or anything like that—thank god—and the kinds of movies or TV shows that depict realistic and at-length user experiences of those drugs, those are not the sort of shows that I’m interested in watching, in fact, I run away, EEEEEEE! I’m very drug-squeamish, basically, so when someone wants me to act like I’m doing hard drugs, or make them do hard drugs, I have next to no idea what the fuck I’m talking about.
So the call I got the other day turned out to be one of the tougher calls I’ve gotten in a long time, because he combined both of these things and he was SO BAD AT IT. He was so ham-handed about verifying my submission—I took a chance on calling him “sir”, and he ate that shit up—and ramming all kinds of things up my ass, and I had to choke on his dick (I get why this is a good fantasy noise for many guys, because seriously, MOST OF Y’ALL’S DICKS ARE JUST NOT CHOKE-WORTHY). It was going along fine, until about ten minutes into his 15-minute call, when the caller said, with what I guess he thought was a Villainous Dom growl, “I’ve got a vial of white powder here, do you know what it is?”
I first thought “cocaine,” but then in a flash I totally second- and third-guessed myself. What if it’s ecstasy, all chopped up? I saw people doing that in London; I didn’t know you could powder ecstasy. What if it’s some other powdery drug that’s really popular right now, that I’ve never heard of? I mean, I haven’t heard of a lot of drugs. I don’t want to be uncool and guess the wrong thing! Why have I suddenly gone into high-schooler head space around this stupid caller and his stupid vial of mystery drug?
So, I said, in what I thought was a nicely quavery, submissive, naive, afraid housewife voice, “Oh, god, uh, I don’t know, what is it?” Because, right? Would most 47-year-old housewives really know anything about drugs? This was not the right approach, apparently, because he hung up.
My dispatcher didn’t say anything when I had to call back and let her know about the hang-up. But now I’m wondering how I can take care of this gap in my knowledge base. Using the drugs is obviously right out, and I’m kinda pushing back against the prospect of even reading up on the effect of drug use on conversation style and mannerisms. I mean, I don’t get very many of those calls at all! On the other hand, I get more of them then I do snuff calls, so … And I don’t want to have callers, even one person, hanging up because I’m not getting it right. That stings my professional pride.
Ugh. It’s so strange. I know all this shit about sex, and nothing about drugs. My naivete is both narrow and profound. I am okay with that, but some of my callers aren’t.