To be a successful phone whore, you need to pretend to be a tranny, sometimes more than a normal woman. The other day I got a call from a guy requesting tranny cock. A lot of guys want cock for some reason. It’s the nature of this game. It’s fun too, because a lot of these guys are living the straight life, and I like giving them what they want. If they can’t get a face full of black cock in their real life, then I’ll give it to them.
Tonight Michael calls me. He’s looking for a 6′5 girl with a 9″ surprise. I’m super tall, and for some reason this excites me. I’m not used to being tall. A 9″ penis, yes…but never tall. My tranny’s name is Elektra.
Michael asks me what I’m into.
“I can go from mild to wild, Michael. What about you?”
I can hear Michael panting. Already he’s in the zone. Three minutes into this call, and we’re right on target.
“I’m just sitting here stroking my hard cock.”
“How big is that hard cock, Michael?”
“5″.”
Here’s the thing. When guys talk about having small penises, it usually means they want to be humiliated, which is fun. I love dom talk. Making fun of men is my specialty and is a great stress reliever, however…tonight was a bit different. Usually I’m good at picking things up, so when someone says, “I have a five inch penis,” it makes me think I should make fun of it. Well I was wrong.
“Oh you’ll never be able to please me with that small cock will you!”
“What do you mean?”
“Your cock is too small to do anything with. Luckily I have a huge cock for you to play with.”
“It’s not that small, Elektra.”
“It’s pretty small, Michael. I bet I can’t even grab that cock without crushing it in my large hands, right?”
“It’s the national average.”
“That tiny little pecker?”
*click*
Well I was a little wrong on that. Oh well, fuck Michael and his stupid mixed signals!
Danny calls me. He’s looking for an obese mountain of a woman.
“I can do that,” I tell the operator. My name is Bell.
In my mind, Bell has cottage cheese thighs. She is wearing a white shirt, with black panties and cut jean shorts. She has blonde hair and blue eyes. And speaks with a redneck accent.
“Hey Bell, my name is Danny.”
“Hi ya’ll! What are you doing?” I say this with a lot of gusto. Between each sentence I am panting. Every fat girl I know pants, so in my head, this made perfect sense to me.
“Umm, I’m just sitting here in my briefs.” He doesn’t sound that excited, but we can change this!
“What are you into, Danny. I am so hor-nay.”
“Ummmmm why do you sound like you’re on Jerry Springer.”
*click*
Oh well, fuck Danny and his stupid mixed signals!
I’ve taken hundred, thousands of phone whore calls, and there’s always an exception to some rule. Danny and Michael are perfect examples. Fuck them in their stupid asses. In my world all boys who have small penises and talk about it WANT to be made fun of. If they didn’t, why wouldn’t they lie about their sizes? It’s not like I’m really going to know you have a five inch cock! If you wanted to dominate the tranny, you should’ve just said that instead of assume I can read your mind. And Danny, you want an obese woman? That’s fine, lots of guys do…but if I have a southern accent, all of a sudden that’s offensive to you? I can’t understand how being from the south is absolutely gross, but fucking a morbidly obese chick isn’t. Your damn fetishes are so confusing!
I make it no secret that I’ve had an abortion. I’m not proud of doing it, nor am I ashamed. It just wasn’t something that myself or my now husband was prepared for. I was just starting grad school, and had way too much time to alter my life in such a huge drastic way. It wouldn’t have been fair for my child. Children are brought up into such disastrous atmospheres everyday, and I think it’s mortifying and reprehensible. In a way it’s completely irresponsible to raise a child in an unstable environment, and more irresponsible than me getting knocked up and having it sucked out like a Hoover on crystal meth. The reality is that it was a good decision and I do not regret it at all. This doesn’t mean I get knocked up every weekend and have an abortion. I don’t throw abortion parties. It’s quite the opposite, ever since I’ve done that I’ve been incredibly careful in having sex.
In a way, I’m glad I’m not going to have children. Kids are worthless, gross specimens of humanity. They’re worthless creatures meant for three things: draining money, getting sticky things everywhere, and pissing you off. What annoys me the most is that every parent thinks their kids are beautiful splashes of sunshine. What is even more annoying than that is that they say, “Don’t you think little Victor is just darling???!!” My answer is an always brutally honest, “Not right now.” Your kids aren’t darling. They’re wastes of space and serve no useful purpose except a drain of the society of people who choose not to suck as bad as you do.
The story of my abortion isn’t funny or interesting. I didn’t put on a puppet show with the fetus or anything like that, but it did make me think about how much I truly despise children. It’s not like the internet does a much better job of convincing me either.
I want to stick a pin in this kid’s face to see if he’ll deflate. Fat singing kid…you are NOT cute!
And another reason to have an abortion?
He could be BLACK. I kid.
And finally, the cutest kid on the internet. Just in time for Halloween. Your tears bring joy to millions, little guy.
I’m putting the finishing touch-ups to my new story today so I should have it ready for you soon. I am going to alter the website a little bit to separate the stories and blog posts. This should make things a little more organized for newer readers and just general navigation purposes. I tend to post a lot, and I don’t want that to get confused with actual longer stories.
For my guy readers:
I know sex toys are usually strictly a women’s thing. And I personally believe that’s bullshit. In addition to a phone sex company, my husband and I also own a few online sex toy stores. One of the good things about this is that I get to test all kinds of goodies out on myself and with my husband. Since my husband knows about this site, he wanted me to endorse a male sex toy that he absolutely loves.
The Flesh Light is a basically a soft gel-like container that men can shove their cocks into and jerk off. My husband uses this a lot in lieu of simple masturbation. He claims that the best part about it is that cleaning up is incredibly easy, as the device collects all of the cum into a sleeve that can be cleaned with ease. It also has different textures you can add or take off. Like ribbed, smooth, and some kind of weird polka dot thing that looks like you’re going to fuck chicken pox. The opening also comes into different shapes and sizes. It can be a mouth, vagina, or even an ass crack, it all depends on what you want to stick your dick into.
Sex Toy Scale of Hotness: The Fleshlight gets a 9.6. It's hot, sexy, and fun!
I think guys should experiment with sex toys more. A lot of men are too stand-offish and uptight about trying new sexual things. Getting a Flesh Light is your baby step to sexual liberation, boys! My husband uses it a lot, and I’m totally ok with it, but as soon as he puts the sleeves into the dishwasher to be cleaned, some line has been crossed.
I know I promised a story Monday, but my page was commandeered so Charlotte could say her goodbyes. If you didn’t see it, it’s here. Now my schedule is all fucked up, but I promise I will have a long story for you all this week.
However, I had to fire this girl who worked for me yesterday. Most girls get fired because they don’t log into work. Carolina was fired because she had a phone sugar daddy. In her defense she was smart, but not that smart.
The sad thing about a lot of the men who call phone sex companies is that they are usually very lonely, clingy and have bizarre fetishes that could *hopefully* never manifest themselves in the real world. But even in this job, one must acknowledge the very basic rules of this for their protection, the perv’s protection, and my protection:
Rule #1: You NEVER EVER EVER give real personal information about yourself on a whore call. This is just common sense not to do. And it’s usually the vapid dumbcunts who think this job is just a fun kitten bubble that do, and they’re the ones getting their throats slit because of it.
Rule #2: All underage fantasies get reported. You don’t take those calls.
Those are pretty much the only truly important guidelines to my business. Yet this girl still managed to not get it. Want to know why I know? Because over a week ago, I get a call from this guy asking for the phone whore’s address because he lost it and she wasn’t online (or answering her cell phone, I assume), and then a few days ago I receive a package at the whore center, addressed to Carolina’s real name. At this point, I’m not sure what made me believe she broke both rules. It may have been the name thing, or it may be that when we opened the package we found a bunch of small and large dildos and this:
Or maybe everyone just gets Green Eggs and Ham as gifts, and this is just my imagination. This also fit perfectly with the tapped and recorded phone call we had with one of their conversations. It was disturbing to say the very least.
This shit just sickens me, and I am so incredibly pissed off at myself that I didn’t find out sooner.
I will follow up on this story. Chances are that since the authorities will get involved, there will be more to talk about.
We interrupt the usual whore calls from Beatrix with a post by Charlotte:
After a lot of thought and deliberation, I’ve decided to quit phone whoring. I think I’m just burned out. Of course, this means I won’t be writing for Whore On Hold anymore, either.
I’m still going to write, don’t worry. I just haven’t decided if I’ll create a new blog and what that may be. In the interim, I’ll probably just put shit up on Myspace. I’m still discovering ways in which this job has altered my perceptions and my interactions with other people, especially men! I’m sure that will be part of whatever I decide to write in the future.
So friend me if you haven’t already: myspace. com/whoreonhold
If you have questions, comments, or whatever, you can email me at PhoneWhoreCharlotte@yahoo.com
Thank you all for your support and encouragement, for your suggestions and most of all just for coming here and reading. It has meant a lot to me.
A friend of mine read my post on being a baker’s nun and linked me to this site.
It’s absolutely splendid! I have always been fascinated by sex toys, and the thought of using a Jackhammer Jesus or Moses shaped dildo intrigues me.
My personal faves…
The Baby Jesus Buttplug:
Just when you thought you couldn’t get closer to Jesus, the internet surprises you. Who says putting things in your butt can’t be holy?? Now you can carry Jesus with you wherever you go, including dinner, the movies, work, and of course church! Everybody wins.
I was on a phone call the other day pretending to be a nun at a bakery.
My role throughout the entire call was to get my ass railed by various kinds of baker’s equipment. I didn’t know this at the time, but there’s a lot of tools involved at bakeries. Tools that when I Wikipedia them, I can’t imagine anyone getting satisfaction from. One of the tools is called a “Flower Nail.” They aid in creating really pretty icing flowers on pastries. They also aided Baker Billy in a fantasy that turned a pure nun into a pin cushion.
He had me stick these things…
ouch!
Up my ass, pussy, and nipples, all the while spanking me telling me how naughty God thought I was. All I could picture in my head was what someone like that would look like. Seven flower nails stuck up someone’s ass? It didn’t even seem like that was possible, just like something you’d see on a tarot card or something.
But it’s the point of my job. I am an outlet for people who could never do things like this in real life. I’ve been doing this long enough to be indifferent towards these people. There’s a desensitization that comes from years of talking to perverts. Words like “Nunnery Cunt,” do not phase me, and there are times where I miss that sense of innocence because it has impacted my outlook on sex. Don’t get me wrong, I still love sex, but it’s been tainted by years of systematic perv talk.
I want to be affected by Nunnery Cunts again dammit!
I was recently sent this video. I thought it was funny, but you know? Even though this video is outrageous, that’s how some fetishes are. I know this kid was just playing a joke, but the reason the joke worked as well as it did was because it isn’t uncommon. If there’s anything you take back from this site, it’s that phone whores have pretended to be way more ridiculous things than talking paper clips.
A lot of people ask me why I choose to have phone sex. What a lot of people don’t understand is that I own the company and I only have phone sex when girls flake out, which happens a lot. I picture what the girls I hire look like in real life. From their hot voices, I give them really good descriptions. It’s the same thing a blind person has to do when they have relationships with other people. Some girls think that attaching their MySpace links with pictures attached to their emails is a professional thing to do. It happens so frequently, and the pictures I build in my head are so far from the truth. Some recent examples are Virginia and Nancy.
Virginia is a blonde bombshell with great legs and a hot ass. She just graduated with a Masters in Forensic Psychology and works part time as a stripper. She has also done some porn as well in her undergrad days to pay off those pesky student loans. Meet Virginia.
Lick my ass motherfucker!
Nancy is a rebel girl. She enjoys swinging with her husband who is an executive of a major company. They’re both bisexual and nothing is taboo. Hello Nancy.
