Sabrina in Stockings smartass switch sex worker

(Fucking long-assed personal sex work entry; if you just want the heart of the post and the boobies, scroll to the quote and the pic at the bottom.)

It’s been almost a year since I started phone sex as a part-time gig to get me through college. I needed a job, and it was tech support or phone sex. Easy decision, right? If I want people screaming in my ear, I want them screaming in pleasure.

I was at a weird point in my life, trying to figure out where to go, considering politics, tech, ordination, the Navy… Phone sex didn’t seem like much more than a strange detour at the time. I’m a very lusty girl, climbing-the-walls horny to the point of distraction. I’m always thinking about sex even when I have no intention of having any - it just endlessly fascinates me, always has. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I liked the job, even though I was phone sexing in secret around my roommates’ schedules. I liked servicing men around the world on demand, I loved playing along with them on the phone, and I needed the orgasms three times a day, the constant marination in sexual energy that sex work provided. I’d come home from classes, go up to my room, turn on my phone and spend an hour with my fingers jammed up my cunt, flexing and curling in deep, a pervert the match of me breathing in my ear in tandem with my moans, and I’d end the evening sweaty and dripping and utterly worn out. I felt fucking great.

I’ve always been the world’s flakiest, most indecisive person. I can’t commit to anything - a deity (I’m Pagan), a gender (bi), a D/s role (switch), a major… it’s ridiculous. I’m greedy and I want a taste of everything.

I was in a 7-year long monogamous relationship when I started my phone sex gig.

I’m poly, always have been.

And I wasn’t getting any.

…

That is the sound of my head hitting a wall for 7 years straight.

I found work that suited me, work I was good at. He’d come home and I’d be on my knees whipping my back uttering sacreligious prayers to a religion I haven’t followed in 10 years, and crying, and smiling, and laughing while my thumb stroked over my clit. He’d get freaked out and leave the room.

It was everything that clashed about us amplified. I ended it, but that’s not important.

I have this drive inside me to seek out intensity, to find the weirdest fucking experiences and crawl right up inside them and experience joy in them. I don’t play around with cynicism. I’m sarcastic, I’m pessimistic, but I want passion in my life more than I want comfort or stagnation. Being overwhelmed with feelings, with rich electric energy… that’s what I need out of life.

I think too much, all day long, all night long. I can’t sleep because my brain keeps going all the time. Overanalysis, ranting, symbolism, sheer useless crap. When I work I want to shut the chatter off and use instinct.

I was looking for work that meant something, that filled an actual need. I needed to know I wasn’t doing something imaginary that would vanish without the internet. I love history and traditions (even when I break them with glee) and wanted a connection to something older than myself.

Like the oldest profession! Yeah. There ya go.

All right. So I’m doing phone sex, I’m loving it, I’m… not getting any sex outside of work and my own hands for months on end. Very sane way to live, when the thing that makes sex and talking both more interesting with someone else is the fact that it’s just not an interesting conversation with yourself. There are no surprises, there’s nothing new. I’m a pervert, I’m a kinky freaky bastard who has some bizarre sick fantasies, so I take those calls from other people. It doesn’t bother me.

I take those calls almost exclusively.

It only bothers me a little.

I go out and the shy professor types who gravitate towards me when they think I look 16, the ones who have that hidden dominant streak, start to creep me out. I was never a fearful gal before. Frankly I’m crazy and a good shot… nobody bothers me.

But this is after almost a year of hardcore humiliation almost uninterrupted by vanilla sex calls. I think of them cornering me and telling me things involving pee that I’m not allowed to talk about on the phone and really don’t want to think about before dinner, of them looking at me or at other girls and thinking of assrape with little lube and no mercy, of beatings and men with no concept of how to hit a masochist and make them beg for more. I’m scared and sickened and reluctantly turned on by things that never did it for me before.

The fear and the queasiness are new, very new. My sadistic streak has taken a darker turn and I’ve found the submissive streak this painslut masochist never had before.

I think some non-work sex would clear my head, but I’m afraid of scaring somebody off.

Vanilla sexuality took some twists. Power dynamics are sexier and they’re in everything. Feet and legs and clothes and nylon and saying yes and no are so much more interesting than they ever were before. My love for sexual torture with no implements other than some bondage and my own body (or someone else’s) is sharpened, refined. I love being the victim and the initiator.

I want to make them think “Yes” and then say “No,” I want to make them beg, because I hate it love it when it’s done to me. I want to give and to receive and take this into my sex work.

I’m out there now, physically, my image and my face, and it doesn’t freak me out now. I’m comfortable with it and the explicit compliments make me smile. Strangers orgasm looking at my panty-clad ass and thinking about giving me a spanking and I enjoy this and I give compliments by coming hard to pictures and words I think are worth it, my little orgiastic tribute, or blessing, or anointing with holy cum-nectar.

Heh. Holy cum-nectar. I said cum!

I still laugh when I say cum. (Heehee. Cum!) Now instead of having sex with myself and a lover or strangers online I have sex with everyone, and with you specifically, one at a time, with the door locked and your wrists or mine bound together and tied to the headboard.

The people are amazing. Work still makes me smile. I thought if I got on this path I’d wind up getting more into the sexual spiritual side of things but I’ve tried to use porn and sex work to distance myself from the otherworld and that was, well, pretty retarded of me. It’s not going away anymore than I can ignore the cars on the highway by sticking my fingers in my ears and singing, “Lalalala, I can’t HEAR YOU!” while I’m driving. I might wind up going off the road and into a field where I don’t see any cars any more but that doesn’t mean I succeeded, it just means I’m a freaking moron.

So, sex is a magical experience. It’s all kinds of goodness. It relaxes us, turns us on and makes us smile and connect or disconnect and I do this for a living? That is still pretty cool.

This is the most personal entry I’ll ever write on this blog. I probably won’t do this here ever again, but it needed to be done after the semi-absence, and I’m not going to regret doing it. I’m totally in the mood to write a ton of erotic flashfic tonight so I’ll flip a coin and decide if I’m giving or receiving the erotic torture in tonight’s scene, but there will be a tonight’s scene, and I’m not changing the focus of this blog: I’m launching back into it with a fucking stiletto-heeled, topless vengeance.

Before you embark on any path ask the question: Does this path have a heart? If the answer is no, you will know it, and then you must choose another path. The trouble is nobody asks the question; and when a man finally realizes that he has taken a path without a heart, the path is ready to kill him. At that point very few men can stop to deliberate, and leave the path. A path without a heart is never enjoyable. You have to work hard even to take it. On the other hand, a path with heart is easy; it does not make you work at liking it.

I have told you that to choose a path you must be free from fear and ambition. The desire to learn is not ambition. It is our lot as men to want to know.

The path without a heart will turn against men and destroy them. It does not take much to die, and to seek death is to seek nothing.

-The Teachings of Don Juan, Carlos Castaneda

I had my first phone sex call last night.

Well… okay, it wasn’t my first phone sex call. I’ve had boyfriends. Technically it wasn’t even my first professional phone sex call, but it felt like it was, because that was the first time I’d ever been on the phone with a complete stranger who’d been looking at my pictures right before he picked up the phone.

…It’s a really fuckin’ weird feeling. I guess I’ll get used to it - I got used to the “OMG, my face is on the internet. With my word-porn. With my boob!” thing enough to go topless post a mini-video clip last week. Two months went by and nobody laughed at me more than usual so I went for it… and of course all the sexy, flattering comments coaxed me into showing more.

Even writing text to go along with my pictures was bizarre. I had to rewrite a good five times before I reached a decent level of explicitness. Funny, I’m not a shy, naive gal, but typing in the caption, “I crave to be used as a painslut and a whore” underneath a picture of myself (even if it’s true) that’ll show up on the most trafficked phone sex site is… uh… nervewracking. I would chicken out and not even log in.

So, this guy, last night… He saw that little caption. (Shit!) He sent me a Niteflirt mail and asked me what my favorite roleplays were. Turns out we’re both really into blackmail scenes. He has this thing for prostitution fantasies, which sounded fun (yeah, now you all know why I do what I do. It makes my panties wet and my wallet happy. Any questions?) so we worked out a scenario that would get us both off…

He’s been watching me for two months now, but I have no idea. When the call comes I don’t question it; he doesn’t set off any red flags in the background check. His name isn’t familiar. We set up an appointment for Tuesday night, a week later. I’m meeting him at his motel room. It’s a joint I’ve been to before.

He watches me in my driveway, getting into my car. His eye follows the line of my body up, over my black patent high heels, up the seams of my black stockings, over the curve of my ass in my knee-high slit black skirt… The bulge in his pants is pronounced, now, but I don’t see it. He leaves after I do, knowing he’ll have time to beat me there. He knows I take a long route. I drive conservatively to make sure I’m not being tailed by cops or creeps

He takes the shortcuts. He doesn’t need to follow me.

He counts his cash to make sure he has enough - he doesn’t want his plans getting cut short and with the kinda sleazy joint we’re going to, he knows I’ll count it first. The walls are peeling; maybe he peels a strip of paint off the walls while he waits, maybe he just counts and recounts his cash and thinks about how this setup’s going to unfold.

The call starts when he answers the door, and it’s me…

(part 2 tomorrow, along with Sugasm #25 - get your links in now!)

A fellow Niteflirt girl (and redhead) passed this along:

“I came across this on myspace music and fell in love. So any camgirls that need to get pumped up before a long day of the usual stuff we go through check out http://myspace.com/brooksbuford, I think webcam girls is quite possibly my new favorite song.”

If you haven’t heard Webcam Girls yet, give it a listen. It’s a cute tribute to the online sex goddesses who spend Saturday nights at home, in their underwear, fielding emails asking “Are you really a college student?”

“Get it online for 4.99, just about anytime…”

A tangent on forced-bi porn got me thinking: One of the top complaints people have about porn companies is that the products they’re putting out are too banal. There are enormous numbers of active porn consumers, and a lot of people (including women, you know, that other 50% of the population…) who would buy porn, or would buy more porn, if they could find what they were looking for.

If you spend any time on sex-oriented forums, you’ve seen at least one thread derailed by an “I really wish they’d make porn this way” post.

So what are people looking for? You’ve heard it already:

• Real breasts,
• More visual variety in performers,
• Real heat,
• Foreplay,
• Lesbian kisses that are full-on rather than just a distant tongue-touch,
• Less degradation in mainstream porn, and
• Hotter guys in straight porn.

What you haven’t heard (unless you spend a lot of time around fetishists) is the stuff people aren’t asking for, or are only asking for in front of like-minded kinksters. The stuff that isn’t mainstream porn to begin with.

It’s funny because right now porn companies are trying so hard to find something nobody else is doing to dominate, and are grabbing any fetish they can figure out how to photograph, but with so many of them they’re missing the point, and with others they’re afraid to even touch them.

Tease and denial calls singlehandedly keep some phone sex companies in business. That said, there are a few amateurs that do tease and denial videos but these guys are begging for more. They’ll tell you what they want to see, give scenarios and shot details, they’ll even write scripts for you. All you have to do is talk to them, listen to them, get the mindset, get the models and the setup and sell these people some videos.

Part of the reason mainstream porn is so stagnant is that a lot of people making the decisions just haven’t realized yet that a) straight guys like their asses played with, and b) women like to watch guys get their asses played with.

I’m talking fingering, analingus, even full-on strap-on play outside of pure femdom porn. Ass play just mixed right in with the foreplay. I listen to what callers ask for and guess what? These guys buy porn. They like to see the same stuff they like to play out on the phones. They like having a submissive girl tongue-fuck their butts and they like playfully aggressive vanilla women encouraging them to take every inch of her dildo.

Forced male bisexuality is another moneymaker on the phones and I’m sad to say I have yet to find any (male) forced bi femdom videos. Too bad, because if it were done right both men and women would eat it up. News flash: Horny girls love yaoi. Horny boys love bitchy, demanding young women. These demographics complement each other. Make the boys pretty enough and the girl college-aged or so and you have a bestseller.

But that’s just off the top of my head, stuff that gets requested a lot on the phones. There are so many cool ideas that I’d love to see happen… What about you?

So, what kind of porn are you just dying for somebody to make? What would you change about existing porn? Make it as mainstream or as freaky as you like, and don’t be afraid to cover something I already mentioned. Use as many juicy details as you want too… Okay, that was gratuitous. Sorry.

Seriously though… I wanna know. I have ulterior motives.

If this post gets enough comments, I’m going to feature it in next week’s Sugasm and hopefully inspire some porn producers. We amateurs have less to lose and time to experiment so that’s where things will start but they’ve got to start somewhere, right?

What would I pay someone to make? Elf porn, hands down.

If you’ve been paying any attention to adult webmaster forums over the past few years, you know it: It’s all about the niche. Lately even mainstream marketers are starting to repeat the mantra. Marketing to everyone just doesn’t work very well anymore: you can’t be exactly what someone’s looking for if you’re everything to everybody. That appeals to a lot of people but not with any real connection instead of a chosen few, intensely.

Considering that I’ve known this for a while now I don’t know what possessed me to believe that I could start up a couple of fetish-oriented Niteflirt listings, not promote them outside of the site, and see much in the way of results.

I wasn’t expecting to receive none at all. Sure, it’s been slow. But there is no such thing as that fucking slow.

Lesson one: It’s one thing to do fetish. It’s one thing to do several fetishes. Just because you’re into them all doesn’t mean they make any kind of sense together. For example: Stockings/nylon, tease and denial, and spankings (receiving. Yep - told you I’m a switch).

I could’ve gone for two out of three and been fine. What the hell?

Lesson two: Nobody takes a generalist seriously anymore, not even in phone sex. If they can’t remember what you “do” they won’t remember you, end of story. I haven’t been the only one who’s launched this month with a slightly generalist approach and fallen flat. I didn’t advertise as anything goes from “suck and fuck” to GFE to hardcore domme, no, but clearly I wasn’t clear enough about who I am and what my style is.

Part of the problem with that is that my sexual interests are all over the map, and some of the things that I do are seen as contradictory. That doesn’t matter. I have to not only condense my sexual personality to a two paragraph ad, I have to clarify it. A list of keywords isn’t going to do it obviously and neither will trying to draw four completely different types of stocking callers, plus lingerie guys, with the same ad. Wearers, stocking sex lovers, dominant guys who like nylon wearing victims and submissives who are into teasing, footjobs, or sniffing stockinged feet are not looking for the same sexual attitude, just the same material. Somebody looking to be driven mad by upskirt views, flashed stocking tops, and footjobs left unfinished might be completely turned off by that tease getting bent over and paddled hard.

Lesson three: Know who you are (simply, and make it clear) before you try to communicate it to anyone else.

Thankfully that was a beta launch - I was quiet and obscure about it for a reason, obviously. I have a fear of fucking up in public. Of course now that I’ve done it you all get to learn from it. A win all around?

The Niteflirt site is extremely saturated, as is the phone sex market in general. That said there is always room for a new idea. Maybe it’s different for girls who rely on broad-based advertising, but for a small-time gal like me I need a way to stand out. Other than my sheer obnoxiousness, that is. Maybe the anything goes apprach still works for a lot of sex workers but I’m going to have to find a better way to communicate what I’m into in a way that will inspire like-minded perverts to shell out $1.99 a minute to keep my pasty ass in silky red panties.

Both ass and panties will be making their regularly scheduled appearance in tomorrow’s video.