Tina felt like the headset she was wearing had become a chain. It had been fun at first, sitting on the phone and talking dirty to anonymous men, knowing she was getting them off with a slutty voice and filthy language. But then, the calls seemed to take on a pattern. Typically she spent most of her time screaming “oh yeah baby fuck me in my ass” to men whose wives or girl friends refused to satisfy their fantasy of anal sex, not that she blamed them. She had tried it once and the guy had gotten his dick in maybe an inch before the pain was too much for her to bear. And then there were the closet fags, all they ever wanted to talk about was fucking guys who looked like girls, on those calls she pitched her voice deep and pretended to be a horny transvestite, and even with this variation she spent most of the time screaming “ohh yeah your cock is so big up my ass baby”.
And then there was George, she actually dreaded his calls and he called her at least once a night, sometimes it would be six or seven times a night and it was sick and repetitive what he wanted to talk about. He wanted her to pretend to be his nurse and to force him to take shots to make him grow tits. Then he wanted her to pretend to shit into his mouth. She always finished with him feeling the need to wash out her mouth with soap.
Pretty much everything seemed to be some kind of variation on anal sex with the occasional horny 15 year old virgin pretending to be 18 sneaking onto the line and just wanting what amounted to tips in sex. She was pretty well turned off by sex after working the phone line for almost a year. But she tried to remember what it was to actually feel turned on and did the best she could to give the poor guy a few tips. The phone sex paid the bills, however, though she lived leanly (hey, they may be paying 2.99 a minute but she only got .25 cents of it). And she didn’t have to deal with a boss or coworkers or be particularly fussy with her appearance.
The beep came over her line again “This is Tina, your sex goddess, can I verify that you are over 18 please, before we continue this conversation.”
“Don’t worry Tina,” the caller said “I think I more than qualify.”
The caller had a deep voice but soft too, it seemed to travel over the phone line and made her feel almost invaded as if he was in the room with her.
“Hello caller, may I have your name please?” Tina inquired.
“No, Tina, you may not.” answered the silky masculine voice on the other end of the line.
“What shall I call you, sir?” Tina asked, reverting to the simple good manners with which she had been raised.
“I think you have figured it out” he answered enigmatically.
“Sir?” Tina questioned.
“That’s right Tina, just call me sir. How old are you Tina, and tell me the truth I will know if you don’t?”
“I’m nine-...”
“The truth, remember Tina, you are never supposed to tell me anything but the truth.”
“Twenty three, sir.” Tina replied the truth spilling out of her unbidden. The one thing she never did was give a real name, age, or location.
“And what is your real name Tina?”
“Sir?” “Your real name, now!”
“It’s Maude, sir” she admitted embarrassed by her name as she had always been.
“Maude, I understand, not exactly a sexy name, I’ll call you Desdemona, will you be my Desdemona?”
At last, Tina/Maude/Desdemona was relieved, some fantasy, someone she could be for him.
“Certainly sir, I’ll be your Desdemona.”
“Do you live alone Desdemona? Remember truth.”
“No sir.”
“Who do you live with Desdemona?”
“My boyfriend sir.”
“And is he good to you, does he take good care of you? Does he turn you on?”
Desdemona thought for a second. John was sweet, loving, and utterly incompetent. He seemed unable to earn a decent wage and went through jobs at the rate of about one a month, when he had a job. As for turning her on-
“Desdemona!”
