I have had a ball on the chat line over the past two weeks, the naughty boys seem to be coming out of the wood work in preparation for Christmas, however it does mean that I have been sat on my backside for much of the day (and night) and it's not doing my figure any good at all! I'll be plumper than the turkey if I'm not careful.
I have had some interesting calls since I last posted, delightfully polite older gentleman wanted me to 'be' a tour guide and show a party of guests (him included)around a stately home ending with the gruesome fully functional dungeon. However what he really wanted was for an entertaining demonstration of the torture devices, with a willing volunteer to get utterly out of hand. The gorgeous tour guide getting more and more carried away whilst other party members watched (and got excited of course), I introduced the concept of the 'pear' which seemed to get him quite breathless.
(The pear was a device that expanded after being inserted orally, anally, or vaginally. It was used to rupture the sensitive membranes and tissues of these areas. With much of the damage being inside the body cavity, "confessions" thus extracted could seem to be freely given. http://www.francesfarmersrevenge.com/stuff/archive/torture/devices.htm )
It all ended with a crowd gathered around him forcing him to lick pussy and cock etc., I had one of the matronly ladies 'scoring' and 'peeling' his balls with a sharp knife, and cutting them off just as he came, of course I simultaneously cut off his cock at the base whilst he came inside me. We finished him off by stuffing his genitals down his throat to suffocate him. He particularly liked the part where I had him stuffed and displayed as an 'exhibit' in the dungeon and no one would know he was 'real'.... Jesus writing that didn't make me want to scream and run away at all... That is very worrying!
Most of my callers have been just sexy horny men wanting assistance and a bit of fun while they blow their spuds. I have had several callers who just wanted a bit of company late at night, or a cheering chat during the day, covering anything from singers like Amanda Marshall, to golf and Homers' Odyssey. I suspect I am suffering from spunk overload at the moment though, as I just cant seem to bear to log on for more than an hour at a time, I'm sure it will pass shortly and I'll be back to the greedy cum guzzler that my online girl is :-)
I have asked this question on several sites during the last few weeks and received no explanation... Why do NHS patients always get a 'trainee' dentist? (forgive me if that's not the correct title) I have been truly phobic about dentistry since I was very young, sweating, shaking, vomiting putting up with extreme toothache before nervously attending a surgery, most people dislike visiting the dentist, but I literally would almost have preferred to die than go. I have very nice teeth, well spaced neither too big or small for my face, and partly because of my phobia (I don't want unnecessary dentist visits) I care for them as if they were the most precious thing I own. They are properly brushed, flossed, interdented, mouthwashed, and not bathed in acidic or sugary drinks and foods etc,. However I must have the weakest teeth possible, I suspect they are made of cheese as even when attending regularly I always have to have work done.
I have asked my g.p. if there were practices that specialised in phobic patients, she couldn't even make a guess! I have tried N.H.S direct who could only help with booking emergency dentists and had no helpful suggestions for the phobic. I have tried sourcing one myself but they are all private and I simply cannot afford that at the moment, if I could I would in a heartbeat, as being phobic is no joke and would be worth the penury if someone could help, but it's absolutely not a financially viable option. I attended one emergency dentist only to witness a sobbing vomiting bleeding woman run out of the treatment room just before my turn!!! I ran, shaking and sobbing, my husband bless him coaxed me to go back in, but the idiot dentist tried to pull an infected tooth (infection causes the anaesthetic not to work properly) that was not properly numb, I persuaded the dentist to give me anti-biotics before trying again. I never went back and it was six months before I found a new practice opening up near me, by then I was having severe toothache in several teeth (one tooth simply crumbled, another lost a filling and the others just hate me). So, I decided to try my hypnotherapy skills on myself. I wrote out a 'script' as if it were for a client, and got my husband to 'read' it for me (after some instruction) it is not as good as having another hypnotherapist read it or treat you, but it was the best I could do. It got me through the surgery door, and calmed my nerves enough to get through several rounds of treatment, I used the script before each appointment for the first few. The dentist was wonderful, a female trainee, gentle as a butterfly, learning but skilled and had a very good 'bedside manner' it got to the point when I was able to use self hypnosis without going through a full hypnotic session, and even almost forget I was ever phobic rather than just nervous.
However as the dentist was a 'trainee' she has now been moved on, and I still have an extraction, a root removal and a crown to finish... her replacement while a perfectly nice person appears to be thus far to be a dreadful dentist, nervous, confidence wrecking, with a poor 'bedside manner' I have not had a painless consultation with her yet. I understand the need for in practice training how else can anyone become experienced, but why can we not see the experienced dentist on some of our visits, and why is it exclusively N.H.S. patients that see the trainee, someone different almost every time we attend, so that no rapport or understanding is built up between dentist and patient. I think this is especially pertinent if one has a phobia or illness that needs special consideration. N.H.S. dental patients are already treated with substandard, old and out of date equipment (I know this as despite my phobia I worked some time ago as a dental nurse/receptionist for a short time,so recognise when the equipment is from the stone age, I guess the phobia only kicks in when I'm in the chair). Is it legal to subject N.H.S. patients only to student dentists? is it not an unethically sound way to work? does it not violate any human rights to equal treatment?... seriously I want to know!
Ok rant over, normal service will be resumed shortly.
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
Wednesday, 11 November 2009
Spunkometer, toothache, and dentists
Today I am mostly in pain. I have teeth that although pampered and cared for better than a royal corgi, appear to be made of cheese and have no strength whatsoever, they look good, well spaced well shaped, reasonably white, but develop cavities and toothache at an alarming rate. I have been keeping my dentist fully employed for the last two years. I had the final root canal and tooth rebuild of a course of treatment about a month ago, unfortunately I was treated by a very nervous new trainee dentist, (as we nhs patients are only good for practice)she was very nice but took forever to complete the process with much help from the 'proper' dentist (who only deigns to treat fully paying customers), a week later the newly rebuilt tooth caused three quarters of a bucal filling in its lower jaw opposite number to pop out - as her rebuild was not quite the right shape and a little too large - so now I need a replacement filling, and quite possibly another root canal, as I can't believe there would be this much pain from part of the filling popping out... Grrrr, I am pretty phobic about the dentist and can well do without any extra trips.
Doped up to the gills with Ibuprofen when I log on this morning, my first call is someone wanting to give me their number so they can talk to me in private!! I politely tell him sorry I can't do that, "go on darling get a pen I like you" he says. Ok I say and cut him off as he reaches the 079.. mark, for gods sake what is wrong with some of these men, women don't do this job because they are cock hungry whores, they do it because they can't get out to do a more conventional job and don't want to rely on social service handouts, or are struggling to get out of debt or just trying keep their heads above water, they are mothers, wives, daughters, sometimes have disabilities which prevents them from getting a conventional job, we are actresses of a sort, we enjoy being able to work while giving a good service, we don't want to meet strangers and be their sex slave, if a woman wants casual sex there is no shortage of men to chose from, we would not resort to 'doing' someone we come across in this way! Anyway, rant over.... my next few calls were from nice men who all seemed to be particularly "full of spunk" today, one tells me he hasn't come for a week and has a huge load for me.. I tell him how heavy his balls are in my hand, and how they must be fizzing and aching to unload their hot creamy contents all over my full tits and how I'm going to lick his jizz from my own nipples,... he seems to be enjoying the scenario and when he comes he tells me what a big load it is, I'm very impressed of course he is so pleased to be added to my (imaginary) spunkometer that he stays for another ten minutes while he gets hard again and wanks into my glass tube adding nicely to my ml count for the week :-). I log off an hour later, clutching my jaw and cursing the invention of teeth, why can't we just have beaks!
Doped up to the gills with Ibuprofen when I log on this morning, my first call is someone wanting to give me their number so they can talk to me in private!! I politely tell him sorry I can't do that, "go on darling get a pen I like you" he says. Ok I say and cut him off as he reaches the 079.. mark, for gods sake what is wrong with some of these men, women don't do this job because they are cock hungry whores, they do it because they can't get out to do a more conventional job and don't want to rely on social service handouts, or are struggling to get out of debt or just trying keep their heads above water, they are mothers, wives, daughters, sometimes have disabilities which prevents them from getting a conventional job, we are actresses of a sort, we enjoy being able to work while giving a good service, we don't want to meet strangers and be their sex slave, if a woman wants casual sex there is no shortage of men to chose from, we would not resort to 'doing' someone we come across in this way! Anyway, rant over.... my next few calls were from nice men who all seemed to be particularly "full of spunk" today, one tells me he hasn't come for a week and has a huge load for me.. I tell him how heavy his balls are in my hand, and how they must be fizzing and aching to unload their hot creamy contents all over my full tits and how I'm going to lick his jizz from my own nipples,... he seems to be enjoying the scenario and when he comes he tells me what a big load it is, I'm very impressed of course he is so pleased to be added to my (imaginary) spunkometer that he stays for another ten minutes while he gets hard again and wanks into my glass tube adding nicely to my ml count for the week :-). I log off an hour later, clutching my jaw and cursing the invention of teeth, why can't we just have beaks!
Monday, 9 November 2009
Sunday lunch, phone pests, mice, overfed kids
I have noticed a growing trend amongst the gentlemen that ring the chat line, it has always been an aspect of the job but seems to be on the increase. Many of the callers want your private number or to give you theirs, often in the assumption that you are a truly horny bitch who is gagging for 24/7 fuck fests with them; these 'boys' I can handle, I mean ME pay (on my phone bill) to call THEM! 1. We are not allowed to exchange personal details, and will be terminated with extreme prejudice if we do. 2. I only do the job for the money, I'm a happily married mother, and not a nymphomaniac who will shag anyone who asks. 3. I don't look much like my online persona, the hair eyes and skin tone are the same, but online girl is a size 12 with pneumatic tits, (unless you are calling my large lady persona) I am not. My online persona will laugh at all your jokes and agree that Benny Hill is the funniest thing since ...well ever, I will and do not... Online girl loves stockings and high heels, I think they are tarty and they make the top of my thighs rub together until they resemble raw liver, you get the picture... these (usually young) men are easily rebuffed with a simple no sorry we are not allowed to do that, and if they continue to pester hang up (with polite prior warning). More difficult to rebuff (although it has to be done) are the men we have a rapport with, and who ring us back time after time, you kind of build a relationship with them, often they started ringing chat lines because they crave the intimacy of a womans voice, and the interaction between two people who get on, and were perhaps ambitious career orientated men who haven't had much time to form long term bonds,or divorced/widowed men who haven't wanted to dip their toes back in the dating pool yet, or have and been burned, or perhaps have health issues that makes it difficult to date. Although I am married and even if I was allowed wouldn't want meet these men it's harder to let them down, I don't like hurting their feelings or shattering the illusion that I truly care for them, and to be honest I do care for them but in a platonic 'I wish I could help them find what they need' sort of way. Some unscrupulous lines advertise as if the girls are unattached and looking to meet up, I was relieved to find when I first came across the problem that the company I work for makes it very clear that it is a paid chat service for entertainment. So if there are any guys out there who use the service and are tempted to try their luck in the hope of free phone sex or more, DON'T, we wont like you for it, and you're chasing a phantasm that doesn't exist.
Working on the chat line does have it's benefits sometimes (other than financial), at certain times of the month during hormonal surges it gets me hornier than a cat with 3 bollocks, you'd be made of stone for some of the things I hear not to turn you on. when I log off my vibrator, or hubby, depending on which comes to hand first gets a real pounding.
Neville the mouse is still happily ensconced behind some wood panelling in the lounge, and seems to have reached a temporary truce with the cats, I leave little treats out for her where the cats can't get at her (or the treats) and they are always gone in the morning. Unfortunately she also seems to like the taste of phone cable, and if I don't unplug and hide it before bed it will have been Nevilled by morning.
Sunday lunch has moved from around oneish, to threeish, as I usually log on for a few hours in the morning to catch my morning glory boys, they are often quick but there are plenty of them. I was lucky to get 3 nice long calls in amongst my grunt and click boys so a reasonable mornings work. A nice simple Sunday roast, chicken with lots of veg and all the trimmings, I couldn't work in the evening after that if I wanted to. The family are strewn around me bloated and sleepy, the scene is dotted with happy cats and the dog in a similar state of bloat, I sigh in contentment as I realise the buggers should leave me alone for a little while, whilst they digest.
Working on the chat line does have it's benefits sometimes (other than financial), at certain times of the month during hormonal surges it gets me hornier than a cat with 3 bollocks, you'd be made of stone for some of the things I hear not to turn you on. when I log off my vibrator, or hubby, depending on which comes to hand first gets a real pounding.
Neville the mouse is still happily ensconced behind some wood panelling in the lounge, and seems to have reached a temporary truce with the cats, I leave little treats out for her where the cats can't get at her (or the treats) and they are always gone in the morning. Unfortunately she also seems to like the taste of phone cable, and if I don't unplug and hide it before bed it will have been Nevilled by morning.
Sunday lunch has moved from around oneish, to threeish, as I usually log on for a few hours in the morning to catch my morning glory boys, they are often quick but there are plenty of them. I was lucky to get 3 nice long calls in amongst my grunt and click boys so a reasonable mornings work. A nice simple Sunday roast, chicken with lots of veg and all the trimmings, I couldn't work in the evening after that if I wanted to. The family are strewn around me bloated and sleepy, the scene is dotted with happy cats and the dog in a similar state of bloat, I sigh in contentment as I realise the buggers should leave me alone for a little while, whilst they digest.
Tuesday, 3 November 2009
Enemas, drugs, and pennies from heaven
I have acquired a new regular, he loves to talk about general anaesthetic. In a previous job I occasionally assisted with administering dental general anaesthetic and he is in hog heaven discussing this in depth with me, he particularly loves me to tell him that some people pee themselves during this process, (I have never actually had this happen). Enemas then become the topic of heated horny conversation, how he loves to use a pump to get a greater amount of warm water up a ladies arse and watch it spurt out of her carrying any contents of her bowel with it, he has from what I have told him, decided that I must have a very big rectum indeed, he could give me so much pleasure from filling my immense colon with litres of warm water, he tells me how women can have such wonderful orgasms through anal manipulation (so not the case - medically or otherwise), he is bless him, 'verging' on the weird. I grit my teeth think of Wales and consider the pennies from heaven building up.
Drugs are good (said in south parks cartmans voice)at least Ceterizine is, and other brands of anti-histamines, my eyeballs have resmebled draculas backside for about 3 days now, thanks to my lovely cats and dog, to which I am pretty allergic. My allergy eyedrops ran out a week ago, but my drugs seem to have taken up the slack so far, yay I don't feel I have half a haystack and a pound of grit embeded in my eyes, maybe, just maybe I'll get a good nights sleep tonight.
Drugs are good (said in south parks cartmans voice)at least Ceterizine is, and other brands of anti-histamines, my eyeballs have resmebled draculas backside for about 3 days now, thanks to my lovely cats and dog, to which I am pretty allergic. My allergy eyedrops ran out a week ago, but my drugs seem to have taken up the slack so far, yay I don't feel I have half a haystack and a pound of grit embeded in my eyes, maybe, just maybe I'll get a good nights sleep tonight.
Thursday, 29 October 2009
Sex, snoring, and mobile phones
As my new mobile is due to be delivered today, the Nokia N97 mini (I really wanted the palm pre but didn't want to change my provider) my lovely husband has offered to work from home, so that while I am logged on to the lines he can answer the door. However I have been working for an hour now and what I hear from the other room is door rattling, window cracking snoring (this is the main reason he often sleeps in the spare room and is ostracised by the bleary eyed children), not much work going on there me thinks, I've already had to politely ask one of my favourite callers, who loves me to breast feed him to excuse me for a moment, while I let one of the loudly wailing cats in - another thing which my husband was meant to keep an ear out for.
I can't wait for my new phone to come, but with it will come a day of irritation, swearing and threats to send the damn thing back whilst I try to navigate its mysteries without the aid of the instruction booklet. I just hope it is very intuitive to use. Of course what I really need from a mobile phone is something simple to use and pretty much indestructible, I once cooked a Motorola Razr with the Christmas turkey! surprisingly and much to Motorolas credit once the fat had congealed inside the phone,and after a week of it randomly ringing the furthest reaches of the world it started to work pretty much perfectly again, the only thing it refused to do was to send picture messages, and it had never been too keen on doing that anyway. So as you may have guessed the reason I prefer to have a contract is that I inevitably break the phone shortly before the year or 18 months is up (I could never have a 24 month contract, my phone would be defunct for half of it), I then have to resort to using a cheap alternative until I get my shiny new replacement so that my contract minutes do not go to waste.
At the moment I am using the Samsung E1100 in place of my beautiful Nokia N95 which a lot of people had trouble with but I loved. However the little candy bar samsung is a fabulous basic phone, not bulky, doesn't take pictures or surf the web, but for £5 (you had to take a virgin sim card and buy £10 worth of minutes too so technically it was £15 )it is easy and intuitive to use, texting is a breeze, and it's nice to have a phone that I am not constantly worried about dropping, cooking, loosing or drowning.
I can't wait for my new phone to come, but with it will come a day of irritation, swearing and threats to send the damn thing back whilst I try to navigate its mysteries without the aid of the instruction booklet. I just hope it is very intuitive to use. Of course what I really need from a mobile phone is something simple to use and pretty much indestructible, I once cooked a Motorola Razr with the Christmas turkey! surprisingly and much to Motorolas credit once the fat had congealed inside the phone,and after a week of it randomly ringing the furthest reaches of the world it started to work pretty much perfectly again, the only thing it refused to do was to send picture messages, and it had never been too keen on doing that anyway. So as you may have guessed the reason I prefer to have a contract is that I inevitably break the phone shortly before the year or 18 months is up (I could never have a 24 month contract, my phone would be defunct for half of it), I then have to resort to using a cheap alternative until I get my shiny new replacement so that my contract minutes do not go to waste.
At the moment I am using the Samsung E1100 in place of my beautiful Nokia N95 which a lot of people had trouble with but I loved. However the little candy bar samsung is a fabulous basic phone, not bulky, doesn't take pictures or surf the web, but for £5 (you had to take a virgin sim card and buy £10 worth of minutes too so technically it was £15 )it is easy and intuitive to use, texting is a breeze, and it's nice to have a phone that I am not constantly worried about dropping, cooking, loosing or drowning.
Wednesday, 28 October 2009
from hooters to norks, shibari and glistening iridescent pools of shimmering spunk
Logging on for two hours certainly knocked me off my soap box. Having been listening to hooters, I then found myself talking about hooters on my first call, in great depth, big ones, pointy ones, nipple tassled ones, and great big shibari bound lactating ones, all with the same very slightly obsessed gentleman. It was a good call lasting about fifty minutes, and gave me the opportunity to stretch my imagination and vocabulary (in the sphere of norks at least), as did my next caller who wanted very specific but mild parameters filled, involving me masturbating close up, and capturing his cum in my hand. He was a pleasure to tease and tantalise, and seemed to enjoy my *poetic* - his word - vivid descriptions of the act, bless him... I like calls like that.
Tea time completed - we don't call it dinner around here, dinner is lunch time - cats fed, dog walked, time to sit down with Yvette Fielding et al to try and figure out whether most haunted is staged or not (ok it seems improbable that it is not, but I find it kind of fun and entertaining), so it will probably not be long before I fall asleep soundly, as is traditional during Most Haunted live.
Tea time completed - we don't call it dinner around here, dinner is lunch time - cats fed, dog walked, time to sit down with Yvette Fielding et al to try and figure out whether most haunted is staged or not (ok it seems improbable that it is not, but I find it kind of fun and entertaining), so it will probably not be long before I fall asleep soundly, as is traditional during Most Haunted live.
I was listening to the Hooters 'Satellite' http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lwYK8EHd_M just before logging on today. Now this got me wishing I could be
I was listening to the Hooters 'Satellite' http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lwYK8EHd_M just before logging on today. Now this got me wishing I could believe in God. The principles, the very basic essence of Christianity is so appealing! Then again all current world religions (that I am aware of)seem to have basically the same cornerstones; don't kill each other, help one another out, share resources (see previous),don't get jealous of anything others have - hot partner, wealth etc. -(because that can lead to breaking cornerstone one), look after your kids because they are the future of the society in which you live, look after your parents and elders because they've been there done that and can help you out, and don't do the sort of things that can spread diseases and malformed descendants (i.e. shag around -and particularly not with immediate family members). Which is a kind of socialism in action as far as I'm concerned. If we all lived more or less by these principles, individually and collectivelly, and most crucially on the grander scale - our governments and religious leaders were properly held to account by these principles. Then whether you attribute it to spirituality or not - we would achieve our fundamental right to have government 'by the people, of the people and for the people' as opposed to our current system which merely seeks to give a thin veneer of legitimacy to those who feel they were born to be a ruling class. Unless this hopeless power crazed greedy hyocritical layer can be swept away and replaced by a system that serves the people we will never achieve the world which would be the better place envisaged by the best ethics espoused by our philosophies and religions.
Monday, 26 October 2009
Sore throat, furbaby, mice, and masturbation,
This morning I woke up with a gravelly feeling in my throat and a headache threatening. I always log on by eight or eight thirty, so I took a couple of paracetamol for breakfast girded my loins and logged on. My first call was an ex regular I hadn't heard from for a while... "Ooo your voice has gone all Mariella Frostrup", very sexy he said, he was a little disappointed when I told him it was just a sore throat, but I promised to practice it for him once the strep attack had cleared up. He was very sweet as always, but wanted to hear all about my latest foursome with a friend and her partner, - I have never been with a woman in my life ... well ok some very minor booby fiddling with my best friend when we were eleven... nor would I ever want to try it, but my online friend thinks that I have an exciting experimental sex life with various boyfriends and girlfriends. He particularly likes my description of spreading maxines' legs and holding them down a little because her hips buck while I run my moist firm tongue rhythmically over her slick swollen pearl of a clit, this time I was 'doing this' when her partner approached me from behind and started fingering me, when I was good and wet he pushed his swollen silky tip into the entrance of my cunt and then with one long swift thrust was buried deep inside me, my boyfriend had to make do with max giving him the occasional lick, and a wank, while I made her come over my face, and her partner pumped hot thick gouts of his cream inside me. I dread to think of the effect bullshit like this has on the perception of women the male population has. I just hope most of them have the sense to know that we are just telling stories, and that they like the sound or our voice enough, and the interaction to go with it and enjoy the experience for what it is in most cases, horny fiction.
The calls that disturb me the most are the ones that try and introduce incest fantasies, we are not allowed to talk about this as it is illegal, (quite apart from it making me feel sick just thinking of it). Most of them are not suggesting talking about abusing a younger relative thank god, but a lot want to wank into their sisters or mothers knickers, or have their mothers catch them wanking and remain to watch, or stay to 'train' them, that makes my mind boggle and I want to tell them they are sick and to fuck off. However we have to remain polite, and tell them that we cant talk about that but we could 'be' or talk about a sisters friend (over 18) or a friend of their mothers, or older lady in general..... eeeeew!
My last call of the day was with a regular who rings about once a month, he is lovely and wants a furry wank, using fur coats (artificial mostly bless.,) this goes on in various forms for half to a full hour, my imagination is thoroughly stretched, trying to think of different sensual words to describe the feeling of fur on cock, balls and body, again throwing in scenarios where I have used fur with other couples or boyfriends, when he comes he always sounds as if it is a strong and satisfying experience, and thanks me I log off with a smile on my face in the knowledge of a job well done.
My little friend Neville is still alive and kicking, my poor husband is getting worried, as he is convinced Nev is a young rat, judging by the sounds of a mouse rave going on under our floorboards at night. The cats are going crazy, luckily for Neville they are shut in the other part of the house at night (kitchen/dining room, bathroom, or we would get no sleep at all and our toes would be shredded. I leave a little food out for our mousy friend and a bowl of water in the bedroom where the cats hardly ever go, (the door is kept locked all day not because of the cats but to stop our willfully incontinent dog from peeing on the end of the bed). I hate the thought of the little critter starving to death, so he gets a little cereal, some apple, perhaps a bit of carrot... no wonder it sounds like elephant ballet in the cupboards and under the boards. Time to move the traps and try something even more yummy in them I think. What will I do with Nev when and if we catch him, I don't want to throw him out into the cold during the winter... he's become soft living in a heated pad with food on tap, so I might try and get hold of the biggest mouse cage in creation, with lots and lots of mousy toys, and put him up in the penthouse for the winter... if he is a she, which I suspect he is then it might be worth seeing if she would like a female friend for company, (mice are fairly social and girls in particular often like to stick together) "Oh god no" the husband moans, "not again, we have enough pets... and your not ending up with 42 mice like before...no way" I wish there was a way to train cats not to murder small stuff, hubby wouldn't have to worry about turning his home into a menagerie then.
The calls that disturb me the most are the ones that try and introduce incest fantasies, we are not allowed to talk about this as it is illegal, (quite apart from it making me feel sick just thinking of it). Most of them are not suggesting talking about abusing a younger relative thank god, but a lot want to wank into their sisters or mothers knickers, or have their mothers catch them wanking and remain to watch, or stay to 'train' them, that makes my mind boggle and I want to tell them they are sick and to fuck off. However we have to remain polite, and tell them that we cant talk about that but we could 'be' or talk about a sisters friend (over 18) or a friend of their mothers, or older lady in general..... eeeeew!
My last call of the day was with a regular who rings about once a month, he is lovely and wants a furry wank, using fur coats (artificial mostly bless.,) this goes on in various forms for half to a full hour, my imagination is thoroughly stretched, trying to think of different sensual words to describe the feeling of fur on cock, balls and body, again throwing in scenarios where I have used fur with other couples or boyfriends, when he comes he always sounds as if it is a strong and satisfying experience, and thanks me I log off with a smile on my face in the knowledge of a job well done.
My little friend Neville is still alive and kicking, my poor husband is getting worried, as he is convinced Nev is a young rat, judging by the sounds of a mouse rave going on under our floorboards at night. The cats are going crazy, luckily for Neville they are shut in the other part of the house at night (kitchen/dining room, bathroom, or we would get no sleep at all and our toes would be shredded. I leave a little food out for our mousy friend and a bowl of water in the bedroom where the cats hardly ever go, (the door is kept locked all day not because of the cats but to stop our willfully incontinent dog from peeing on the end of the bed). I hate the thought of the little critter starving to death, so he gets a little cereal, some apple, perhaps a bit of carrot... no wonder it sounds like elephant ballet in the cupboards and under the boards. Time to move the traps and try something even more yummy in them I think. What will I do with Nev when and if we catch him, I don't want to throw him out into the cold during the winter... he's become soft living in a heated pad with food on tap, so I might try and get hold of the biggest mouse cage in creation, with lots and lots of mousy toys, and put him up in the penthouse for the winter... if he is a she, which I suspect he is then it might be worth seeing if she would like a female friend for company, (mice are fairly social and girls in particular often like to stick together) "Oh god no" the husband moans, "not again, we have enough pets... and your not ending up with 42 mice like before...no way" I wish there was a way to train cats not to murder small stuff, hubby wouldn't have to worry about turning his home into a menagerie then.
Saturday, 24 October 2009
stockings, scatology shagging, and stew
I decided to put on a shagging uniform this morning before I logged on, I got through two pairs of stockings before I got the damn suspenders to clip. A trip to fig leaves dot com coming up I suspect- new suspenders at the top of the list. I had the place to myself and thought I'd give my callers the respect of actually wearing what I was telling them, rather than my usual cami top and ankle length comfort band skirt. There I was sitting cross legged in my chair in black stockings, suspenders, a VERY sheer lace panty and bra set with just a translucent hip length black blouse to keep me warm (just done up with one button at my waist of course), my first call came in within a few minutes, a gorgeous Irish voice that sent shivers down my spine said hi I'm John...- almost all of my callers are called John, Dave, Paul or Chris. I do get the occasional original one like spunky Jim but they mostly stick with the run of the mill nom de plume - John is quite friendly, articulate and chatty, and doesn't open with "I've got my cock in my hand", or a gutteral "do you eat poo"? and to be fair it is a sex line so "I've got my cock in my hand" etc, is just fine by me. John and I are not far into the chat when he asks what I'm wearing, I lovingly describe how the unlined widely spaced lace bra tugs and teases my nipples, making them stick out and stretch the fabric until I start to tingle and throb between my legs, describing how the fine cotton gusset on my panties is starting to stick to the contours of my pussy lips because of wetness forming there... and how I would love to feel the warmth of his breath on my neck as his hand brushes the silky fabric of my stockinged thight, until it reaches the smooth pale hot flesh of my thigh making me jerk with pleasure and my cunt ache to feel his touch.... "Take everything off he gasps"... but I spent what felt like sweaty hours trying to get these bloody stockings on I think! no way they are comming off... so we continue our conversation with me making sound effects to mimic stripping off and the brush of hand on naked skin.... running my hand over my softish upper arm will do.... anyway John comes so hard his teeth go numb, I am happy to have put a smile on his face, and earned a whole £2.50 towards Christmas. There are many more Johns today, and quite a few slap your arse hard and put a peg on your clit Dannys. The gentleman who stood out most today appart from the beautifully voiced John, was an older guy of 72, who was very enamoured of cleaning my arse after I had been to the toilet (with his tongue of course) and was gasping to give me the pleasure of his tongue "up my crack" and fingers in my "fanny" and was delighted to be named my toilet boy of the day, he was very polite and thanked me when he finished, good toilet boy :)
I spent the rest of the day doing normal mum and wife things like enjoying a meal of beef stew with crusty bread and lots of butter with my husband - the girls don't like 'old fashioned fare', they wanted pasta (pretty healthy) fish fingers, rice crispie cakes and icecream, lovely. Now we are watching a lacklustre game of rugby between Cardiff and the Ospreys, I am looking forward to seeing Wolverine Origins later, Hugh Jackman is hot! Although I'm getting worried that my job is skewing my view of men, I wonder what is going on inside their fevered craniums, the sweet man offering me a drink and being a gentleman, is he thinking oh god I'd love to shit in her mouth, or she looks so much like my mother she turns me on....
I spent the rest of the day doing normal mum and wife things like enjoying a meal of beef stew with crusty bread and lots of butter with my husband - the girls don't like 'old fashioned fare', they wanted pasta (pretty healthy) fish fingers, rice crispie cakes and icecream, lovely. Now we are watching a lacklustre game of rugby between Cardiff and the Ospreys, I am looking forward to seeing Wolverine Origins later, Hugh Jackman is hot! Although I'm getting worried that my job is skewing my view of men, I wonder what is going on inside their fevered craniums, the sweet man offering me a drink and being a gentleman, is he thinking oh god I'd love to shit in her mouth, or she looks so much like my mother she turns me on....
Friday, 23 October 2009
I'm sitting in my lounge logged on reading the paper, there's either a problem with the lines, which seems to happen a LOT with this company,or perhaps everyone is waiting for payday before they ring. It's not been a busy week on the lines maybe the credit crunch is finally biting into the sex drive of the British male, even my regulars are less regular.... although they all claim to have been trying to get hold of me, the company I work for is always coming up with little tweaks to try and pull in new customers or keep the old ones happy, I just wish they would sort out the system they already have before adding anything, if us girls don't get calls we don't get paid, and Christmas is just around the corner. I started getting my annual Christmas nightmare in July, where on Christmas Eve just after the shops shut I realise that I have everything one daughter wants and hardly anything in the other 'pile', I feel sick, start crying really upset that they will think 'Father Christmas' is cruel and that one of the girls will be really disappointed. God that's sad isn't it they are grown up now and I'm still getting it. If finances carry on like this though both of them will have an austere Christmas :( If it continues to be crap I will have to join a different company.
I don't have anything else planned today so I think I will have a little play with my new suspenders and see if I can get them done up more smoothly, they are not proper ones with metal clasps that actually stay done up securely, but those shitty plastic and silicone ones that pop open and leave you crumpled and rumpled around the ankles like Nora Batt. 'They' just don't make serious suspenders anymore in the mid to cheap range, they seem to think that women only wear them in the bedroom and it's not important to provdide functionality. When you have a dominant man who spanks you if your sussys become unfastened during sex (even though it's technically his fault) and you get a spanking... then it's very important!... ouch, "sorry master it won't happen again", ok so it's only on the phone, but I do like realism.
My eldest has got her first tma sent off to be marked, yay! it took us ages to unravel the techno gobbldygook about how to use the e thingy to send it electronically, we're still not entirely sure that it's right! she's sending a hard copy next time! or else.
I don't have anything else planned today so I think I will have a little play with my new suspenders and see if I can get them done up more smoothly, they are not proper ones with metal clasps that actually stay done up securely, but those shitty plastic and silicone ones that pop open and leave you crumpled and rumpled around the ankles like Nora Batt. 'They' just don't make serious suspenders anymore in the mid to cheap range, they seem to think that women only wear them in the bedroom and it's not important to provdide functionality. When you have a dominant man who spanks you if your sussys become unfastened during sex (even though it's technically his fault) and you get a spanking... then it's very important!... ouch, "sorry master it won't happen again", ok so it's only on the phone, but I do like realism.
My eldest has got her first tma sent off to be marked, yay! it took us ages to unravel the techno gobbldygook about how to use the e thingy to send it electronically, we're still not entirely sure that it's right! she's sending a hard copy next time! or else.
Thursday, 22 October 2009
Mouse in the house
Yesterday started well, I had logged on as my alter egos Cathy and Samantha (imaginative ey) and had a nice long call from a regular who wanted his bottom filled with custard and then pumped with a strap on, - that was with Samantha my 'specialist' alter ego, but then things got surreal... It says a lot about my job that the custard thing didn't seem surreal!!
I logged off to get some housework done before dealing with a client in my professional job (and no professional does not mean prostitute or escort), on stepping outside I notice one of my cats has a rather bedraggled mouse hanging from her jaws. I love mice but this 'batch' of cats are murdering bastards and I have become slightly hardened to the sad little corpses of wildlife they leave at my door - or worse dismembered bits, or just a kidney. I only let them out for a couple of hours a day to try and 1. Keep them safe from being run over, and 2. to try and minimize their impact on the local wildlife. When I first unleashed hell in the form of three 6 month old kittens and their mother on the smaller fauna of the area my comment was let the blood bath begin. However back to the bedraggled mouse, I noticed that when puss briefly put down the mouse it moved and tried to crawl away, this precipitated a curious coaxing whine from me as I lowered my posture to seem unthreatening and crept towards the criminal cat, sweetly cajoling, "good girl, well done, let 'mummy' have the mousy". This cut no ice whatsoever and she snatched the dazed animal and legged it, at which point I launched myself ungracefully through the air in a misjudged attempt to give chase, I tripped and flew forward landing on a bucket, the bruises on my ribs, cut to my hand and arm are nothing, as to my delight my clumsy crash landing made the miscreant drop the mouse which had the sense to stagger off under our gate and (you would assume) make its escape. I tried to capture the recidivist and take her inside before she could follow the little critter or go off and slaughter another in its place, she was too quick and leapt the wall in a single bound, which led me to the ruinious line of thought... what if the mouse is dazed and she gets it after all? So I opened the gate and there in a clump of grass was the damp (with cat spit) rodent quivering and dazed. I thought mmm poor thing it has no cuts so I'll put it in a deep box inside, feed it up and see if it recovers some strength before letting it loose again. Neville as she became known did indeed recover enjoying the cereal and apple that I provided her with, she recoverd enough to make her escape from the 24 inch deep large plastic smooth sided box! by this morning she had eaten through my phone line! leaving me panicking looking for a spare cable to get online in time for my regulars! so my altruistic act has cost me money, and I know have a mouse 'problem' Amazon here I come, "half a dozen humane traps please sir" before my cats eat Neville.
I logged off to get some housework done before dealing with a client in my professional job (and no professional does not mean prostitute or escort), on stepping outside I notice one of my cats has a rather bedraggled mouse hanging from her jaws. I love mice but this 'batch' of cats are murdering bastards and I have become slightly hardened to the sad little corpses of wildlife they leave at my door - or worse dismembered bits, or just a kidney. I only let them out for a couple of hours a day to try and 1. Keep them safe from being run over, and 2. to try and minimize their impact on the local wildlife. When I first unleashed hell in the form of three 6 month old kittens and their mother on the smaller fauna of the area my comment was let the blood bath begin. However back to the bedraggled mouse, I noticed that when puss briefly put down the mouse it moved and tried to crawl away, this precipitated a curious coaxing whine from me as I lowered my posture to seem unthreatening and crept towards the criminal cat, sweetly cajoling, "good girl, well done, let 'mummy' have the mousy". This cut no ice whatsoever and she snatched the dazed animal and legged it, at which point I launched myself ungracefully through the air in a misjudged attempt to give chase, I tripped and flew forward landing on a bucket, the bruises on my ribs, cut to my hand and arm are nothing, as to my delight my clumsy crash landing made the miscreant drop the mouse which had the sense to stagger off under our gate and (you would assume) make its escape. I tried to capture the recidivist and take her inside before she could follow the little critter or go off and slaughter another in its place, she was too quick and leapt the wall in a single bound, which led me to the ruinious line of thought... what if the mouse is dazed and she gets it after all? So I opened the gate and there in a clump of grass was the damp (with cat spit) rodent quivering and dazed. I thought mmm poor thing it has no cuts so I'll put it in a deep box inside, feed it up and see if it recovers some strength before letting it loose again. Neville as she became known did indeed recover enjoying the cereal and apple that I provided her with, she recoverd enough to make her escape from the 24 inch deep large plastic smooth sided box! by this morning she had eaten through my phone line! leaving me panicking looking for a spare cable to get online in time for my regulars! so my altruistic act has cost me money, and I know have a mouse 'problem' Amazon here I come, "half a dozen humane traps please sir" before my cats eat Neville.
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
How I got into this mess. An introduction to me, it's NOT all sex talk.
Hi, I'm firefly, I'm a 47 year old married mother of two who's ageing rather well. I'm not putting a picture of myself here, what mother wants to come across their daughters beaming face for anyone to see, proclaiming 'oh yes I suck cock on the phone for a living'. Actually I do three jobs, all part time, one of them being in a professional capacity and slightly unusual, so for the purposes of anonymity I can't tell you what it is.
Anyway, it was a love of shiny things, sweet smelling unguents, and a desire to actually be able to put food on the table that led to me to, one cold October night two years ago, sitting at my dining room table (the room furthest away from my teenage children) with a duvet over my head - as you do - for sound insulation, assuring a well spoken Scottish gentleman that I did indeed understand his need to correct me, and the need for corporal punishment in general, and that yes sir thank you for lashing my bottom with a birch, that was one sir... two sir... 'quavering voice' three sir.. thank you sir... I will be a good girl from now on, and so on. However when I shakily put the phone down nearly three hours later, I was beaming, I can do this I thought as I calculated I'd earned £30ish for the pleasure of sitting in my dining room with a duvet over my head. All I had to worry about now was that the company I'd signed up with wasn't a scam, and that I would actually get my money, and thank god two weeks later I did, and a decent amount more too.
There are lots of people out there who think it's easy to be a chat operator, and that they can do their ironing at the same time etc., well if you want to be a crap operator and are happy with letting your gentlemen (and occasionaly a lady) down then maybe it is. However if you want to give a good service and earn decent money it requires pretty sharp acting skills, a desire to please, a bloody thick skin,a sense of humour, a very very very open mind and an ability to think on your feet. To see an example of how to be a bad chat line operator google Graham Nortons' show with Russell Brand on it, myself and the other girls I have met that work the lines would have had great fun with him, switch off the heavy breathing and actually listen to what the customer is saying is the number one rule.
Disappointed as my 'boys' would be to find out, my life is not one constant round of three somes, and casual sex. I am happily married to a professional man who happens to work in an area where it takes a lifetime to start earning a decent salary. I spend a lot of my time interacting with my kids, my many cats, dog, and large extended family, they all live close by, and it is a bit like the Waltons but with more swearing.
I have a myriad of interests, I loved photography when younger using 'proper' cameras, I can take pictures just fine with a digital camera, it's learning what to do next that's the problem. I love nature in all its glory, I'm not the girl that runs screaming from a mouse or spider...cows that's another matter entirely! I don't have a favourite season I love them all, that is the wonderful thing about living in Britain, the changeability, I'm never bored with the weather. I have many pets, and would have more if my husband didn't keep pointing out the mad cat lady from the Simpsons. In my time I have bred hamsters, mice, tropical fish, have kept gerbils, rabbits, Guinea pigs, a rat called Tiddles, a tortoise, water snails (accidentally), cats and dogs. I love to read, for main genre see at bottom of the page, watch t.v. and cinema. I also enjoy exploring the way science and spirituality are seeming to come together again, and like reading things such as Scientific American, New Scientist, and anything else I stumble upon that catches my eye, for example a post I fell over recently referring to an article about intelligent D.N.A. on the parapsychology and alternative medicine forum. I like new technology, although admit to being a bit of a techno twat and take a while to find out everything my new mobiles etc., offer.
I adore music, I'm not one for boy bands and sappy stuff. I love heavy rock, some of the more melodic heavy metal (though not averse to a small amount of Slipknot)and Indie... oh how I love Indie. Forget pensioners music, and these days that includes anything from the 50's and 60's, some of it is still fantastic, but I don't get stuck in a specific decade, give me current any day; loving Josh Pyke, the Ting Tings, Placebo, Idlewild, Linkin Park, James, Tegan and Sarah, The Alabama 3 and so many more right now. I would go to more live gigs if time and money allowed. Seeing Green Day in Milton Keynes and Idlewild in Sommerset house were some of the best gigs I have been to. Sadly I have never 'done' Glasonbury, or Leeds/Reading, but it's never too late! :)
I'm a huge science fiction fan, with a little bit of horror thrown in, but I'm going to shut up now or I wont have anything left to write about.
See you tomorrow
Anyway, it was a love of shiny things, sweet smelling unguents, and a desire to actually be able to put food on the table that led to me to, one cold October night two years ago, sitting at my dining room table (the room furthest away from my teenage children) with a duvet over my head - as you do - for sound insulation, assuring a well spoken Scottish gentleman that I did indeed understand his need to correct me, and the need for corporal punishment in general, and that yes sir thank you for lashing my bottom with a birch, that was one sir... two sir... 'quavering voice' three sir.. thank you sir... I will be a good girl from now on, and so on. However when I shakily put the phone down nearly three hours later, I was beaming, I can do this I thought as I calculated I'd earned £30ish for the pleasure of sitting in my dining room with a duvet over my head. All I had to worry about now was that the company I'd signed up with wasn't a scam, and that I would actually get my money, and thank god two weeks later I did, and a decent amount more too.
There are lots of people out there who think it's easy to be a chat operator, and that they can do their ironing at the same time etc., well if you want to be a crap operator and are happy with letting your gentlemen (and occasionaly a lady) down then maybe it is. However if you want to give a good service and earn decent money it requires pretty sharp acting skills, a desire to please, a bloody thick skin,a sense of humour, a very very very open mind and an ability to think on your feet. To see an example of how to be a bad chat line operator google Graham Nortons' show with Russell Brand on it, myself and the other girls I have met that work the lines would have had great fun with him, switch off the heavy breathing and actually listen to what the customer is saying is the number one rule.
Disappointed as my 'boys' would be to find out, my life is not one constant round of three somes, and casual sex. I am happily married to a professional man who happens to work in an area where it takes a lifetime to start earning a decent salary. I spend a lot of my time interacting with my kids, my many cats, dog, and large extended family, they all live close by, and it is a bit like the Waltons but with more swearing.
I have a myriad of interests, I loved photography when younger using 'proper' cameras, I can take pictures just fine with a digital camera, it's learning what to do next that's the problem. I love nature in all its glory, I'm not the girl that runs screaming from a mouse or spider...cows that's another matter entirely! I don't have a favourite season I love them all, that is the wonderful thing about living in Britain, the changeability, I'm never bored with the weather. I have many pets, and would have more if my husband didn't keep pointing out the mad cat lady from the Simpsons. In my time I have bred hamsters, mice, tropical fish, have kept gerbils, rabbits, Guinea pigs, a rat called Tiddles, a tortoise, water snails (accidentally), cats and dogs. I love to read, for main genre see at bottom of the page, watch t.v. and cinema. I also enjoy exploring the way science and spirituality are seeming to come together again, and like reading things such as Scientific American, New Scientist, and anything else I stumble upon that catches my eye, for example a post I fell over recently referring to an article about intelligent D.N.A. on the parapsychology and alternative medicine forum. I like new technology, although admit to being a bit of a techno twat and take a while to find out everything my new mobiles etc., offer.
I adore music, I'm not one for boy bands and sappy stuff. I love heavy rock, some of the more melodic heavy metal (though not averse to a small amount of Slipknot)and Indie... oh how I love Indie. Forget pensioners music, and these days that includes anything from the 50's and 60's, some of it is still fantastic, but I don't get stuck in a specific decade, give me current any day; loving Josh Pyke, the Ting Tings, Placebo, Idlewild, Linkin Park, James, Tegan and Sarah, The Alabama 3 and so many more right now. I would go to more live gigs if time and money allowed. Seeing Green Day in Milton Keynes and Idlewild in Sommerset house were some of the best gigs I have been to. Sadly I have never 'done' Glasonbury, or Leeds/Reading, but it's never too late! :)
I'm a huge science fiction fan, with a little bit of horror thrown in, but I'm going to shut up now or I wont have anything left to write about.
See you tomorrow
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