What's up buttercup? Operator15's FAQ

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Why ask why?

I've on occasion been asked why I would do phone sex for a living.

To be honest, I don't do it for a living, it's more of a hobby. Which is not to say I'm getting off while I do it, but that entertains me by lettiing me have an amusing glimpse into some men's psyches.

There's that, but I really just wanted to see the look on the auditor's face when I claim vibrators as a legitimate business expense.

If this doesn't work out for me, I can always be a Foley Artist

Phone sex isn't always the easiest job. The easiest job I think would be oh, I dunno, ethics advisor for George W. Bush. It's not like you'd be called on to do anything.

I probably should'nt have gone there huh? You didn't come here for partisan politics did you? No, you didn't. I'm not a polite person and if you wish to spank me for my insolence, perhaps we can arrange something.

Anyway.. phone sex. It's not the job for a brainles slut who has nothing to recommend her beyond a sweet voice. Oh sure, there are a lot of us out there who are sluts, and most of us have sweet voices, but the brainless ones don't tend to do very well.

The most important skill a phone sex operator will use is not a naturally pleasant voice, but the ability to read people and decipher what callers want without the benefit of body language and few, if any, spoken clues. Beyond that, the ability to quickly spin engaging stories based on ideas never before heard or thought of is mandatory and last but not least, the ability to convincingly simulate noises associated with those stories.

What is they sound of one hand clapping? Well, it's similar to the sound of testicles coming in contact with flesh as the result of a forward pelvic thrust.

In other settings, my vibrator sounds amazingly like an electric toothbrush and my friend has one with a pulse setting that sounds just like her cell phone set to vibrate.

Those are the easy sounds to make. But there are times it's not so simple.

A lot of guys are into golden showers, and after a long shift of drinking coffee, they can be a real blessing, but there's obviously a limit to how many you can do during a twenty minute phone call and for the guys who want brown showers or rainbow showers (if you can't use your imagination to figure out what they are, you may be at the wrong blog,) it can be nearly impossible and distinctly unhealthy to do such things on command. (Did you know that satifying a belching fetish for a half-hour call can make a person vomit? Now you do.)

Thankfully, we ladies of the line need no longer resort to pouring water from cup to cup or letting ice plop into a beverage as we blow razzberries until our phones are covered in saliva. Thanks to the blessed internet, and a few people with too much time on their hands, we have recorded resources!

Kevin Kelm, a man with a distinctly scatalogical sense of humor has devised both a virtual vomit site that simulates the sites and sounds of a queasy stomach using the foods and settings of your choosing, and also the Robodump, a robot he left in his office men's room which convinced his coworkers that a man with severe intestinal distress had spent and entire work day in the first stall.

The few vocalizations in the recordings sound rather male, so female operators may want to listen to the recordings a few times and carefully time when you pause the files, but you gentlemen in the business have it made.

While you're there, take a look around his site. He also has the phrase "I have lard in my anus" translated into the languages of the world. You never know when that may come in handy.

A Phone Sex Operator Walks Into A Bar

When I was twenty-two, I lived in South Florida.

It's a great place to be a young woman. While your body is still young and firm, you always get the perfect weather to show it off while pretending you're only wearing so little because it's so hot out. What's more, your youth and vitality are a sharp contrast to the retirees lounging in beach chairs near where you lie on a blanket in all your sun-sweet juiciness.

On one particularly blistering afternoon at the beach, I wrapped my sarong around my bikini clad hips (ok, it was a towel with Mickey Mouse on it, but sarong sounds sexier) and sauntered off to the nearby pier, where there were a few shops (I needed to buy a sarong) and a bar.

Being the parched girl I was on this hot day, I perched myself on a stool at the outside bar and ordered something virgin as I eyed a young man reading a comic book on the beach.

As is so often the case where women and booze are found under one roof.. er, umbrella, it wasn't long before I was approached by a stranger.

"My G-d, you're an Amazon."

I took a bracing breath and turned, ready to lash at the voice behind me with some comment about originality and calling a tall, large breasted woman "Amazon." As I say, I turned, and I was ready, but then, I didn't. It was one of those rare moments in my life when I was surprised into silence.

Standing next to me was, without a doubt, the largest man I'd ever seen in person. He was huge! I didn't even come up to his shoulders. My smart assed comment slipped from my mind like an extra large condom from Dubya's dick.

As my eyes continued up and up, trying to focus on his far away head, I considered forgiving him for the lame comment. The air must be thinner all the way up there, he couldn't possibly be getting enough oxygen to be at his wittiest.

"You're not exactly Lillipution yourself," I observed, my neck craned back for perhaps the first time since third grade. "How tall are you anyway?"

The stranger smiled. It was the same strained smile I recognized from all the times I'd been asked the same question. He answered with a well rehearsed tone, "I'm six eleven stadning up, nine inches lying down."

Moments later, I excused myself from his company. Despite what I do in private, my public persona has always been respectable and dignified. I didn't think being picked up in a bar was an acceptable practice to begin with, but especially not by someone who announces the size of his penis to strange women.

I did however go straight to my car and right the line down, so I could use it on the phones.

"How tall are ya baby?"

(pretend to listen to answer)

"Oooh, nice, and how tall are ya lying down?"

Other People's Secrets

Once upon a time, oral sex was kinky. Well, in the past few hundred years anyway.

But since it's always been around, there was always someone on the block who knew about it. So our grandfathers and great-grandfathers heard about this lovely little notion of oral exploration and many undoubtedly thought it sounded like a wonderful idea. The problem was, it's just not polite to ask a nice girl to do anything so ... unsanitary.

Of course, in present days, few men have trouble indicating a desire for a little mouth action, and most women are willing to do it (although, despite what she may say, surveys show only about 30% of women actually enjoy doing it, sorry fellas).

Well, aside from a little disillusionment, that all worked out fine didn't it? But now we've evolved and we have a new secret that no one knows that everyone wants, The Rusty Trombone.

What? You've never heard of The Rusty Trombone? Well, it starts with a bit of fellatio, and while the gal or guy is down there, they slide a wet finger into their partners rectum. The pressure against the prostate provides a more intense orgasm.

And you thougth you hadn't heard of it.

As you can imagine, most men who've heard of this move have been interested in trying it out. How do I know most men want it? Heh.. silly skeptic. Of the calls I get, and those to the thousands of operators I've monitored, easily 90% end up with the gentleman caller either literally, or in fantasy, having his bottom played with. That's no coincidence. Though I will admit, guys who call phone sex lines may not be a representative sample of the population at large. But I'll tell ya, they aren't far from it.

OK, if we accept as fact that it's normal for guys to desire a little anal, along with their oral pleasure, why is it most guys aren't actually getting it? Simple, as with our grandfathers, it's just not polite to ask a girl to do anything so ... unsanitary.

Let me help you out a little here guy. Once we've taken your penis in our mouths, once you've asked us to ingest your bodily discharges, once we've had our noses a scant two inches from the spot, slipping a digit up your bum is really small potatoes. And while we're at it, anything that helps you finish before my jaw aches is a blessing. Capiche?

Hypocrisies In The Mirror May Be Closer Than They Appear

Surprising as it may seem to the uninitiated, the world of phone sex operators tend to be divided into two distinct categories. The "Do"s and the "Do-not"s.

Now the "Do"s do just about anything. Or rather, they talk about just about everything. While the "Do-not"s, do not. Which is not to say that the "Do-not"s do not do anything, it is only to say that the "Do-not"s do not do everything. I mean, they do not *talk* about everything. But they do about some things. Talk, I mean.

While most “Do”s and “Do not”s live side by side in harmony, there can be some contention between some of them based simply on their different tolerance levels.

Th “Do-not"s don't feel comfortable talking about certain taboo subjects, such as pedophilia, beastiality, incest, or rape. The "Do"s don't mind so much. The "Do"s usually have the attitude that if the "Do Not"s don't want to talk about everything, they, the "Do"s will, and they'll make good money doing it while the “Do not”s are normally happy to let the “Do”s take the calls they don’t want to think about much less hear.

The "Do"s rationalize correctly that fantasy is a healthy thing, and that most people fantasize about things they would never actually do, or even want to do in real life. For instance, some of the most common fantasies are of homosexual encounters. The majority of people have thought about it at one time or another. Does this make the majority of people homosexual? Of course not.

So it is, that a man who has a fantasy of taking a woman by force is no more inclined to act out the fantasy than the woman who masturbates while imagining herself being dragged into a dark alley.

One fallacious rationalization some "Do"s come up with is the theory that "if the callers are talking about it, they're not doing it. After all, they gave their names and credit card numbers when they called so they wouldn't confess to any crimes if they were real."

This is a nice theory, and for the most part, it's true. But, it's not to say that *no* men ever call phone sex lines to fantasize before commiting a crimes. As far as I know, the link between phone sex and sex crimes has never been studied, but it stands to reason if people can be so bold as to post pictures of their victims online, or try to pick up preteens in chat rooms, then talking about it on the phone might just be small potatoes for these guys.

For the most part though, the "Do"s are reasonable people who are able to accept the incredibly unlikely chance that they might, one day, talk to a truly sick individual who commits atrocities. They realize they are far more likely to be stuck by a car and continue to work, just as they continue to cross the street every day.

While most "Do"s and "Do Not"s get along, realizing that there's no shame in having different tolerance levels, some very vocal "Do not"s and very defensive "Do"s can get into some truly ugly shit flinging.

The crusading "Do not"s can become accusatory about what they perceive as "sick" callers and the operators who talk to them, thus condoning their perverted fantasies. Certain "Do"s get defensive and call them naive or over sensitive and tell them they're in the wrong business.

Since defending children, animals, and innocent victims is such passionate work, sometimes the "Do not"s can get carried away, accusing the "Do"s of contributing to the victimization of children and being no better than child molesters themselves.

This is where it's no longer just a matter of personal tolerance and becomes an example of extreme intolerance.

While I myself don't feel comfortable listening to fantasies of abuse, I also feel uncomfortable seeing people who should be sticking together turning on each other with a sense of moral superiority that is, quite frankly, utterly undeserved.

Whether they realize it or not, there are very few of us who have the fortune to live in a prosperous country who haven’t unwittingly been a party to child victimization by buying products made, mined, or harvested by children who were abused physically, emotionally, and sexually.

If they’ve worn clothes, owned jewelry, talked on a cell phone, bought an oriental rug, eaten produced harvested by migrant workers, or purchased just about anything from a discount department store with a sticker on it that said "Made in (insert your favorite impoverished country with a corrupt government)", they are living in a glass house.

I realize some of you reading this little blog of mine may actually be one of the “Do not”s I’m referring to. This is not intended as a slam. It is an appeal to those of you who seem sensitive to a cause.

If you really want to help abate the victimization of children, you need not worry so much about the fantasies other people talk about and focus on what you yourself do to make actual child abuse profitable.

Information is a wonderful thing, please familiarize yourself with how you can help by boycotting products made with child labor. http://www.stopchildlabor.org/

****steps down from soapbox and folds up to put away until next time***

If You're Gonna Be Original, You Can Count On Being Copied

Those there are some wise words from the label of my Mike's Hard Lemonade bottle.

I like Mike's Hard Lemonade. It's not quite a Shandy but it can be bought by the six pack in American grocery stores. Can't say that about shandy. I suppose I could mix my own beer and lemonade, but that's a little too close to cooking for my tastes.

Anyway, let's see, where was I? Oh yeah, being copied.

I've recently become aware, that among the many men and women who are out there trolling away online, through websites and chat rooms, there are a few unsavory and unscrupulous operators who will steal website content from other operators. Sometimes, they steal not only the content, but bandwidth as well by simply hyperlinking to another operator's pictures instead of actually hosting the images on their own site. Sometimes they copy the entire site, in an attempt to impersonate a successful operator and steal their regular callers.

It's a hard job those women do, going out and promoting themselves, flirting endlessly with guys who only tell them "how about you call me directly?" They put money and time into buying pictures and thinking up content for their sites. And they work hard to build a client base. It's pretty ugly for other operators, who know the deal, to hone in on someone else's action.

I drunkenly blow a razzberry at all who stoop to such pilfering. Pfffffft :p

Sorry about the spit.

In The Interest of Science

Based on a scientific survey of 25 callers tonight, I have determined that approximately 88.47% of American men have penises larger than eight inches, 7.69% have penises larger than ten inches, and 3.84% have wee little winkies and want me to laugh at them.

Truism of the day

A man with his hand on his penis does NOT bring up subjects that turn him off. If he asks a yes or no question, he probably wants to hear a yes.

"Do you have big breasts?"

"Yeah, they're a nice full 36 DD"

"Do you shave?"

"Oh yes, nice and neat baby"

"Do you ever get kinky?"

"Yeah baby, I love it wild"

"Have you ever watched your father in the shower?"

"NO NO NO!!! In the name of all things decent NO!!!"