“That sounds good. I’m interested in seeing how the adapter will change my voice. I’m not sure I can pull off sexy without computer assistance,” I say, holding up the black phone piece and inspecting it.
“You must sound good. Trust me, Mr. Conrad is all about voice appeal. That’s why he does all his interviews over the phone first, then in person. Mrs. Conrad is the one who makes sure we are paid well and are happy, but Mr. Conrad does the interviews, so if your voice is shit, you’re an immediate no hire. Obviously, you passed his test. Either way, you can always use it if you want to switch it up or be incognito.”
“True,” I agree, putting the adapter back down and grabbing my notebook.
“You ready to listen to a call?”
Taking a deep breath, I tell her: “Yes.” God, I hope I can do this. Other than seeing Anne Hathaway in Valentine’s Day and everything Destiny has told me, I have no clue what to expect. I wasn’t brave enough to let Erica share her stories with me when she called to congratulate me last week, either. I didn’t want to be more worked up then I already was. I did, however, tell her she’d most likely be hearing from me sometime in the near future. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Let’s do this,” Destiny says, touching the trackpad and bringing the computer screen to life, switching her colour to green from yellow. “When we have a caller in queue, you’ll hear a beep, that way you can be wherever you like in the room and not have to sit by the computer all night, waiting. Once you hear it, read the info, then hit ‘accept’ or ‘reject’. But we try to never hit reject. Remember the goal.”
“Yes. Getting and keeping regulars. Wanting them to want me, again and again.”
“Perfect. So be careful you don’t reject too many, or lose calls. The Conrads get awfully grumpy when we have too many dropped or rejected calls. Sometimes it happens, just make sure it’s not often, and that you can justify why it happened, and reflect on what you might do different the next time, if you get a caller hanging up on you. More than three rejects in a month, then we have to have a meeting with management. Girls have lost their jobs for not having valid reasons why they didn’t take the calls. Always try,” she says, tucking a curl behind her ear. “If you happen to get a bad call, most times they’ll hang up before you get the chance. Some of the callers can be little pissy pants. There might come a time when the call becomes too much, like super violent, threatening or majorly creepy. Just hang up, and if it’s a caller you feel needs to be flagged for the security team to look into, then write it in the comments beside the caller’s details.”
“Okay. That makes sense, and I’ll try to take them all, I promise. I’m sure I’ll feel better once I watch you a few times. I mean, it’s not like they can see me or anything. I’ll pretend I’m an actor—or better yet, a director. Yeah, I’ll think of it as if I’m directing some major hot sex scenes in a huge motion picture.” I smile at the genius of the idea. It will completely help to put me at ease to see this job like that.
“Whatever works to help keep them on the line, girlie,” she says, scrolling through the list of calls in the queue. “Perfect, Daddy’s calling.”
“Oh my God, your dad knows you work here?” I ask in shock as Destiny picks up the line, putting her feet up on the desk in front of her.
“Hello, Daddy,” she whispers, and I wonder if I should leave and let her talk to her father. I didn’t realize you could give your family members a direct number to your line.
I’m about to stand when I hear a thundering voice come through the line, and realize she’s got it on speaker.
“Kitten. That you? You there?”
“Kitten”?!
“Yes, sir. It’s me.”
He calls her “Kitten”? She calls her dad “sir”? He’s okay with her working here?
“Good girl. You ready for me to make your pussy purr?”
Holy crap, it’s not her real dad. I’m an idiot.
I stifle my giggle by clapping a hand over my mouth. Jesus, I’m naïve.
“Yeah, Daddy, I’m ready,” Destiny replies without skipping a beat, despite the daggers she’s pointing in my direction. “I’m more than ready. It’s been so long since you’ve called me,” she pouts. “Kitten misses her daddy’s touch. I wanna come. I’ve been holding it like the good girl you asked me to be.”
Oh. My. God.
Destiny gives me a sly smile and I know—I just know—that I’m staring wide-eyed at her with mouth agape.
“Oh my God. I don’t think I can do this…” I mouth at her.
“Yes, you can,” she whispers, covering the phone, “you watch. Three more minutes,” she mouths back to me before opening the mini-fridge and reaching into the freezer to grab a popsicle. She unwraps it carefully while she listens to “Daddy” telling her to get on her knees.
“Oh God, how I’ve missed your big, hard cock. My pussy is dripping at the thought of slipping you in my hot, wet mouth,” she pants, taking a lick of the cherry-pink treat. “Please, Daddy, take out that big strong cock of yours for me. I want it so bad, Daddy. I need it in my mouth.”
“Fuck, yeah, Kitten, you know what I like. Take it. Fuck, take it all.” We listen to the sound of a belt followed by the sound of a zipper which I assume is him getting ready for Destiny-Kitten.
“Ready for me now, Daddy?” She shoots me a smile, taking another lick.
“More than ready, Kitten.”
“Watch this,” she whispers to me.
I’m pretty much sitting on the edge of my seat to see how she fakes a blow job over the phone.
“Put it in your mouth now, Kitten. Suck my cock. Better yet, let me hear you choke on it. Fuck, babe, let me hear you.”
“Oh yes, Daddy. It’s soooo big. I can barely fit my hand around it. Mmmm, you taste delicious,” she whispers around the popsicle. “You like the feel of my tongue running along your thick, silky cock?”
“Hell, yes.” He lets out a groan. Then, like a flash of lightening Destiny begins giving not only the sloppiest but also the loudest blowjob to the poor popsicle. Completely into her role, Destiny is not only slurping, she’s gagging and sucking the fuck out of the thing, bringing “Daddy” to the brink in less than three minutes flat.
“Fuck, yeah, honey. God, take it, yes, take all my seed. Swallow all I give you. Fuck, good girl. That’s my good fucking Kitten.” With that, the caller clicks off without another word.
“And that’s how you get your regulars,” she says, waving the leftover stick in front of my face before tossing it into the trash.
“Holy shit. I can’t do that!”
“Yes, you can. A few minutes, twenty bucks!” she replies. “Do the math, 69. It’s worth it to play along.”
Shrugging, I really can’t argue with that logic. I mean if she just made twenty bucks in under five minutes, with a cut of half that’s ten bucks for a few short minutes of mortification. She’s right, it might actually be worth it.
“Dude, I legit thought it was your dad at first. I need to get my mind in the gutter,” I giggle, shaking my head.
“You really do, Ellie. Watch some porn. Loosen up.” She smiles and sticks out a fluorescent pink tongue, moving us back to green to signal again that we’re ready. “Like I’d ever let my dad call me here!”
With that, we keel over laughing, and I spend the next hour listening to and watching Destiny—the Phone Sex Superhero—in action.
Chapter 15
Ellie
“How are you feeling about all this, Miss Chanel69?” Destiny asks. “What say you try a call? Our shift is almost done, you’ve heard me enough, I think. You ready to try it?”
Was I ready? I mean, sure I’d sat here for the last two hours of my three-hour shift listening to Destiny talk to an array of callers, but was I actually ready to try it myself?
“Trust me, its good to try it with me here, that way we can debrief about the call afterwards. Besides, it’s kinda a must for me to sign off on you going solo.” She shrugs her shoul
ders, knowing she’s got me.
“All right, let’s do it. Hook me up.” I let out a deep breath.
The system beeps a few minutes later, and I catch my breath.
“See how the comment section is blank?” I look to the screen where Destiny’s pointing. “Well, that means the caller hasn’t supplied any info about what type of game he’s going to want to play. It’s a surprise, they can be the most fun sometimes, might even be a little freaky if you’re lucky.” She winks, and I roll my eyes.
“Yay, lucky me.” I raise my arms in a sarcastic cheer. “Shit, okay. I can do this.”
“Ready to show me what you got? Or you need a reminder about why you’re here…money, Ellie. Money.”
“You’re right. I’m ready—as I’ll never be.” I give her my best fake smile.
“Oh hush, I’ll be right here to coach you if it gets to be too much,” she says, grabbing a pen and my Hello Kitty notepad. “I’ll write some things here for you as I listen, if I think you’re bombing.”
“Thank you,” I say, as she accepts the call, and the phone begins to ring. She motions for me to pick it up, and as I do, she clicks the speaker on allowing us both to hear.
“Breathless Whispers,” I say. Destiny nods and waves her hand in a trail as if she wants me to continue, so I figure she must want me to add the tagline: “Let me leave you breathless…” So I say it into the line, which in turn elicits a smile and thumbs up from the happy girl beside me. I guess I was right: yay, me!
“I want to hear about your feet,” a deep male voice rumbles, and immediately my hands begin to shake. I’m so not ready. “Tell me about your feet. I need to picture them in my mind. Are you wearing stockings? God, please tell me they’re pretty, that you’d let me touch them. That you’ll rub them on my hard cock…” he rushes out, followed by a loud moan.
“Ohhh…” is all that comes out of my suddenly sandpaper-filled mouth.
Well, that escalated quickly! I swear my heart rate rises to about a billion beats per second and I almost drop the phone. The feel of Destiny’s hand on my arm reminds me I’m not alone, that I’m fine. I can do this. I look to Destiny who smiles, mouthing: “This is an easy one, just play along. You can do it.”
So I begin. “I’d love to tell you about them, and if you’re a good boy, I’d love to let you touch them,” I say, then look to Destiny for a reaction.
“Perfect,” she whispers, “keep going.”
“Want me to describe my feet for you?” I ask, in what I hope is a low, sultry voice.
“Shit, yes. I have my cock out, it’s so fucking hard, tell me all about them, get me there.”
“Well, they’re on the smaller side, and they’re really smooth. I use lotion on them twice a day. I love rubbing it all over my toes—”
“Fuck. Tell me,” he interrupts, “do you rub in between each toe? Oh fuck, do you? Oh shit, do you slip each of your fingers in between, sliding them up and down, feeling the toes hugging your fingers as they move? Oh Jesus, please say yes!” He’s breathing heavily now. I look to Destiny to find her dancing around in a circle, fist pumping the air (clearly she thinks her young Jedi is holding her own).
And then it happens. I keep talking, thinking piece of cake, I got this. Smiling, I continue to talk feet to my caller, telling him a bit more about how they look. “They’re painted a pretty pink colour. I just got a pedicure this morning,” I say, which brings out a very strange “ooowwwnnnhhh” from the line. That’s when I start to run out of ideas. I’m not sure how to bring a guy like this to the brink. I’ve said all I can think of, but I persevere. “I do have to get my toes waxe—”
I never finish the sentence. Destiny swats my arm.
I guess saying I get my toes waxed because they’re hairy isn’t the way to get the “happy ending” we’re looking for here. Not that it’s true, I just couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Thankfully, Mr. Feet gives me an out. “Tell me how they smell, what I’ll taste as I suck your, fat, luscious big toe.”
I look to Destiny who gives me a “don’t you dare” look. I assume she’s warning me not to tell him my feet stink.
“Lavender. I wash my feet in warm lavender-scented water. It’s divine, and the scent lasts all day. Have you ever smelled lavender? It’s perfect for feet, makes them…almost likeable,” I cluck out the ending. Another swat from Destiny.
“Oh shit, yes. That’s good, so fucking good. I see them. They’re perfect. So pretty, fuck, lavender-scented and pink. I’m gonna cum, gonna squirt my cum all over, ahhh, all over your pretty fucking pink toes,” he screams, and the line goes dead.
I sit in silence, reflecting on what just happened, and Destiny giggles. “I can’t believe you thought hairy toes was sexy talk. Never again, 69. Never again. Now be sure to write that shit down a hundred times in your notebook, and memorize it. No hairy toes,” she repeats, shaking her head, before I snort with laughter.
Holy cow, I did it by myself…well, almost.
Chapter 16
Ellie
“Hey, early bird, whatcha working on back here, hiding in the corner? Making out with the worm?”
I hear Courtney’s voice, and she slides into the booth across from me at the Froth House, a booth that I’ve been holding captive for at least the last two hours.
“Research,” I say, looking at her over my laptop.
“I woke up at seven-thirty for water and found your note on the counter. Class doesn’t start ’til eleven today. You know that, right? Which means it was a day to sleep in,” she informs me.
“I’m well aware, but I couldn’t sleep.” I decide to go against the usual BFF Code of Sharing. Courtney doesn’t need to hear that a certain black-haired professor with a sexy dimple was the star of my nighttime thoughts, and had me waking early to audition the finger puppets on the Stage of Clitoris. “I tossed and turned all night. Finally, at six-thirty, I decided ‘piss it’, got ready, and came here to do some research. Figured I’d probably get more work done here than at home, where the TV would convince me to spend time with him and Netflix. I can never say no to that man…” I sigh dramatically, blowing my hair out of my face.
“Wow, Els, you are a dork,” Court laughs, shaking her head. “I know you’ve got a pretty big hard-on for Prof. Ryan, but I don’t think you need an ‘A’ to get his attention, if ya know what I mean. Geez, I’d rather you tell me you couldn’t sleep from all the hot sex dreams you were having. Talk about let down, that you’re doing school work.” She blows a raspberry. “So, truth. Any sexy dreams to share?” Court asks, raising her eyebrows up and down. She knows me too well. There’s no way I can tell her she’s not entirely wrong, but there’s also no way in hell I’m going to admit to her that I just spent hours masturbating to images of Ace, or that I finished the next three assignments for our Sexual Aesthetics class, either. I might be trying to impress Ace, but there’s no way Court will let up if she finds out how much of a keener I’m actually being this term.
“Shut up. I’m doing research for work. I have to keep looking up from my screen; I need to make sure the police aren’t coming to arrest me. You should see some of the shit I’ve typed into the Google search bar. My mom would surely be proud,” I beam.
“Ohhhh! Fun research I can condone. Here I thought you were going for class pet.”
“Naw, I’m trying to go for top-rated Phone Sex Superhero. Regulars equal more money,” I whisper, leaning in closer across the table.
“Gotcha. Okay, share. Tell me what exciting stuff you’ve learned, oh dulcet-voiced one. I bet in no time you’ll be the Master Yoda of phone sex.”
“Master of Phone Sex will I be, yesssss…”
“Not with that voice you won’t.” she laughs. “M’kay, tell me something fun?” Court asks, blowing across her mug.
“Okay. Did you know there are some really fucked-up people out there? I read about one girl who had a ‘melon humper’. This guy would call and want her to talk him through how h
e should fuck a watermelon or a cantaloupe. I guess he would want her to talk him through scooping out the hole and everything.”
“That’s epic. God, I hope you get that guy.” She claps her hands in delight.
“Don’t wish that on me!”
“Whatever. It’s not like he’s asking you to fuck his dog.”
“True, but still, it would be so hard not to laugh. And I read that laughing is the worst thing you can do, could even scar a caller, make them feel shamed. They suggest using a pillow to laugh in, if needed.” I giggle at the thought.
“We need to get you a bigger box to hold all your props, I think, eh?”
I agree we just might.
“One of the strangest things I read was from a woman who worked a line in Las Vegas. Her name is Lilac. She suggests dressing the part, says to wear sexy lingerie and to let yourself get into it. She says she got off sexually more from being an operator than from her marriage. In the end, she admitted that she had to quit her job because she was starting to picture her callers rather than her hubby when making love. Imagine?”
“That’s crazy. I’m sure that’s an extreme case. I’m pretty sure we don’t have to worry about you not dating because of your job.” She gives me a dirty look.
“Shush. You know the last thing I have time for right now is dating. Besides, from the sounds of it, I’m going to be getting more action than you,” I joke.
“Shit. Maybe I should apply. Then I can make money, get off, and have extra time to get school work done.”
“Or you could actually spend time completing your schoolwork early instead of leaving it to the last minute. I bet that would free up time to date,” I say.
“Nah, cramming is the way to go and boys are dumb. Maybe there’s something to these phone sex lines. I should give one a try, there’s gotta be a man line out there, right? I mean, equal rights and all.”
Call Me Page 8
