Yes, sad news. Around the end of July, I took a hiatus from the Phone Strumpet Life. Nothing life threatening, just made a few small changes to the Boring part of my life, and I couldn't fit Strumpeting into it.
In the eight months since I stopped, things have been quiet. I got my libido back, for one thing. You wouldn't think talking to Mommy Fuckers and Shower Boys would kill any impulse I had to even look at a penis, but it does happen. I was grateful to lay down my headset. I'd gotten a little burned out with the same old, same old, in, out, in, out, sideways, figure eight, done, roll over and sleep.
But a strange thing happened about two months ago. I started to miss Strumpeting. Which tells me that I've been away from it long enough to experience a bit of romanticized amnesia. I imagine it's similar to how kidnapping survivors start to miss their captors, and wonder if those burlap sacks weren't comfortable and stylish, after all. Being served food through a small hole under the door seemed bad at the time, but hey, great weight loss program!
Being a Strumpet was not all bad, though. My philosophy has always been that any job that generates funny stories is not a job wasted. My Boring Socially Acceptable Job currently is being a receptionist. And while I really and truly never tire of hearing callers compliment my voice (including my boss, who has no idea what kind of activities this voice has gotten into), it is utterly wasted on this job. Even in customer service, I learned quickly how to use these sultry tones to calm down a screamer. This job provides a few good stories, some great stories, but.
No job in the history of the world has ever generated as many great stories as being a Phone Strumpet. I'm confident in this made up statistic of mine. I'm trying to think of other jobs that could generate the level of depraved hilarity that Strumpeting does.
Maybe working in a porn shop? I've said repeatedly I'd like to work in an "Adult Store" for a few weeks. Imagine the couples coming in, eyeing the cockrings and cheap handcuffs. The closet case, who starts out in the vagina ahoy section, but ends up with "Paid for Gay" DVDs and a Silver Bullet for "my girlfriend". Or the newly 18-year old who comes in and shifts uncomfortably for a few minutes before walking up with his fleshlight and lube.
But the problem there is, if you laugh in a customer's face, the bosses tend to frown upon that. And then you fluster the poor little guys, and I imagine there's a bit of guilt involved. So while you get fun stories, the longevity of them is not guaranteed.
How about a dominatrix? Instead of slapping a ruler against the palm of your hand, you get to slap it across a willing body part. Laugh at them to their face, possibly step on a few protruding organs. Plus? Leather. But there's not a lot of variety in this line of work. You call one guy a pansy ass, limp dick little cockroach, you've called them all. I can see it getting tedious after awhile. Just spank yourself, I'm busy.
Same road, darker path, how about an escort service? How fun would it be to get a phone call, get all gussied up in your sassiest heels and best thigh highs, and go rock someone's world for real? You get to hear their naughty little fantasies up close and personal. It can be pretty lucrative, too, if you've seen the news in the past decade or so. Book deals are just one politician's cock away. I mean, sure, there's the danger of being stuck with something you can't get rid of, like a kid. And, of course, then it's a little more difficult to call yourself a dirty little whore, because everyone else is doing it for you.
These jobs all have hilarious story potential attached. But they're certainly not safe. You can't do them in your pajamas. You can't have a bad hair day. Most importantly, there is no Mute button in real life. And there's another factor that's missing, something I've discussed before in an entry far, far ago.
With the exception of the Dominatrix, what each of these jobs is missing is Power. There's a certain thrilling power to being a Strumpet. Here, I romanticize again, forgetting about my 56 second calls, and the gentleman who told me he remembered me and demanded a new girl. But the power of the Strumpet is this.
You are on the phone with me, and I am going to rock your world and make you come so hard you drop the phone. With just a few changes in decibel to my voice, I can make your dick so hard your eyes will cross. And if you're an asshole to me, I will freeze that tone to ice, and you'll have a much harder time getting off, all while still having to pay me for the pleasure.
I like Power. I like Control.
And after 8 months of being away from it, I realize I like being a Phone Strumpet.
I guess you could say I didn't choose the Strumpet Life. The Strumpet Life chose me.
And very soon, I will be back in that saddle, ready to ride.
Let's hope I can manage to update the blog more regularly this time.
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