Call Me (7 page)

Greta nods, offering me a warm smile. “Aw, thanks, honey. You know I love you gals right back. Now, who do we have here?”

“This is Ellie.”

“Hi, nice to meet you, Greta,” I beam, because she makes me feel comfortable immediately.

“Oh yes,” she claps her hands together excitedly, “you’re Erica’s friend. I’ve heard wonderful things about you, dear. I spoke to her about you the other day. No need to be nervous. It will pass. I’ll keep an extra eye on you,” she offers.

“I’d appreciate that, thank you. I’m super nervous. I have no idea if I can pull this off.”

“Nonsense. Phone sex isn’t brain surgery. It only takes a few times before you get good at it, and you’ll be a Phone Sex Superhero in no time! You just have to let yourself play a little, too, sometimes. Once you get over the ‘first caller’, ‘the shock call’ and ‘the make-me-hot call’, it will be smooth sailing all the way to the bank.” Greta gives me the “puh-lease” wave.

“The what-the-what calls?” I ask, bewildered. I feel like I caught everything she said, but I don’t think I understood a word of it.

“Don’t worry. I’ll explain.” Destiny laughs. “It’s a little Superhero humour.”

“Okaaay,” I agree, albeit hesitantly.

Placing a stack of papers on the desktop, Greta goes through the paperwork that needs attention. “First, I need you to sign this non-disclosure form. I’ll need your banking info, and here’s your security pass. Your call ID will be…uh…let me see, I have it right here,” she says, opening a file that’s obviously mine. “Aha. Yes. Ha. How did I forget? You’re lucky 69.”

“69.” I repeat, confused.

“Yes. Don’t worry. The 69 is for the administration side of things. All the girls choose their handle but we add a number behind it, which is how we distinguish you all.”

“Right, like my handle is Destiny21, but the clients only know me as Destiny. The 21 is simply for the computer system to connect our regular callers as that’s our line number and employee number. You’ll need to think of a sexy handle too. Better have it soon because I’m hoping to have you taking a call later this week.

“Okay. Right. Makes sense. A sexy handle. Got it.” I feel my heart pounding in my chest; I really don’t know if I’m going to be able to do this.

“Come on, I’ll show you where the magic happens,” Destiny says, pulling my arm. “Just breathe, you’ll be fine. See ya, Greta,” she winks again as we make our way past the desk to an adjacent hallway.

“Have fun, honey. Go with it,” Greta calls, and I turn, offering a small wave.

“When she’s not here, you’ll check yourself in with the IT system in the call rooms. I’ll show you that tonight too. It’s easy and you’ll need to do it when you clock in and then when you clock out.”

“Okay. I brought a notebook, I’ll write this all down so I don’t forget.”

“Perfect. That’s what we all did, made a little cheat sheet. You’ll find you won’t need it for too long, this job really is simple once you get over the humps.”

“I sure hope so,” I mumble, as we enter a hallway filled with closed doors.

“How many girls work here in total, and on shift?” I ask, a bit reluctantly. I’ve read statistics, watched documentaries. I know most sex trade employers are not exactly exemplary. I know working in the sex trade industry can be a risk. I’d like to make sure I’m not getting myself into a situation I might soon regret. Luckily, from what I’ve seen and heard so far, I’m not too uncomfortable, no red flags have gone up yet. I know without a doubt that Erica would never suggest this job for me if it were one of the bad places.

“There are about twenty-five of us girls in total. All over twenty-one, so no need to worry about anyone being underage. The Conrads own and run one of the best agencies; they make sure everything is legal and go above and beyond to make sure that we are all well taken care of,” Destiny assures me before stopping midway down the hall.

“Here’s where the magic happens.” She gestures at the doors lining the hallway. “These are our call suites. There are twelve girls working at all times. Shifts can be anywhere from four- to six-hours long. If you’re busy, you’ll find the time flies. If not, you can do homework or whatever and wait. The goal is to be busy. Get some regulars and make bank. Otherwise, you get minimum wage and clock out after four hours. So, really, this job is what you make it,” she says, stopping in front of a door labeled Sweet 44.

“Ha! Nice pun. Like, Suite 44. Clever,” I laugh.

“Oh, you get it? Most girls take a bit longer. Look at you, 69!” she says, opening the door and ushering me in.

Once inside, my nerves reach a whole new level.

Ellie

“W
ow, it looks
like a mini hotel room in here,” I say, in awe of what I see inside Sweet 44.

“Well, yeah…you can’t expect a girl to get guys off while sitting behind a stuffy desk, now, can ya? Although, I find I tend to sit at the desk most of the time anyway. Weird, eh? Anyway, Mrs. Conrad figures we need variety, room to move, to properly set the stage.” Destiny closes the door behind us. “Told ya they treat us right,” she beams.

I move further in, and my eyes dart around the dimly-lit, deep purple-painted room: a room with a plush white area rug laid over dark hardwood, a comfy looking chaise complete with side table, a large cherry desk with two rolling chairs, a small fridge tucked into the corner beside the desk, and a large flat-screen TV mounted to the wall.

The décor is not what I expected, at all.

“I guess. I hadn’t thought about it. I think I assumed it would look like a typical call centre, you know, with cubicles…” I shrug, still taken aback by how comfortable I feel standing in the room where I know I’ll be using my voice to get men—and possibly women—off.

“Well, we gotta be comfortable to deliver the Happy Ending, right? Mr. and Mrs. Conrad spare no expense. You don’t become the number one-rated sex line by making the workers unhappy. Look, we even have pay-per-view!”

“Wow, really?”

“Yeah, but it’s only the porn stations,” she deadpans, “consider it inspiration.” She turns back to look at me, a wide grin in place. “Just kidding, you can watch anything you want,” she laughs.

I’m glad one of us is having a good time here. “Can I ask a question?”

“Of course, ask me anything. I’m your open book to PSO superhero-ism.”

“Okay, well, first off: ‘PSO’?”

“Phone Sex Operator, silly.”

“Oh right, that makes sense. I’m a bit slow off the mark, I guess.” I laugh awkwardly.

“Relax, 69, I’m here to help. No question is stupid. Please, ask me anything.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that. I guess the first thing I want to know is kind of personal.”

“Honey, I get people off over the phone. Nothing you ask will phase me, trust me,” she says, waving her hand.

“Okay. Well, do you…Have…er, I mean…” I trail off, unsure of how to ask what I really want to know.

“Have I what? Ever gotten off with a caller? Shit, yeah, many times. Sometimes you’re so deep into the role-play you can’t help it. Trust me, we all have, and you will too, regardless how hard you try to convince yourself that you’re different,” she says, pulling out the chairs at the desk. I see a phone with a super-long cord, a cordless headset, and a computer.

“Come have a seat,” she taps the leather roller chair, “and I’ll go over the CALLRIGHT system, the main types of callers, and…” she hums, contemplating, looking at the clock, “…yeah, I think that will be enough for tonight. I don’t want you overwhelmed.”

“Sounds good. I like the idea of easing into all this, seems like it might be a lot.” I say. Destiny seems oblivious to my reluctance. I think she’s too much of a happy-go-lucky person to recognize if I were completely freaking the hell out. Which I’m not, of course.
Of course not.

“Perfect. Then next shift, we’ll review everything from tonight again, I’ll have you listen to a few calls, answer any more questions you have, then I’ll support you on a call of your own. And then, my little protégé, you’ll be all on your own!” she says, clapping her hands excitedly, the excitement actually becoming a bit contagious when she makes it sound so easy and breezy like that. I guess the training isn’t all that involved, which makes sense, since you’ll never know what type of role you’ll be playing until you’re in the moment.

Being on my own is my goal.

I need to prove I can do this.

The sooner I clock in, the sooner I can make the money I need for my tuition.

Ellie

“I
can’t believe
I’m about to admit it, but I’m starting to feel a bit excited,” I say, as I roll up beside Destiny in the training chair, reaching into my bag for my handy-dandy Hello Kitty notebook. I have a feeling I’m going to need to jot notes, seeing as I still can’t fully believe I’m doing this.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I say, opening to a blank page, scribbling
Computer, Possible Callers, and Tricks from Destiny
as my heading, while she boots the computer to life.

“First thing is, make sure you log into the CALLRIGHT app on the computer.”

I watch as she moves the cursor to the small red rotary phone icon.

“This is where you’ll find all your caller log info, and where you’ll track your callers. It even lets you see who and how many are waiting in your call queue. If you’re lucky, you’ll also see what type of caller they might be, that is, if they decide to share that information.”

“Wow, the system tells me all that?” I ask impressed.

“Yeah, it’s genius. The automated service gives clients the option to say if they’re looking for a specific fetish scene, dom/sub, or whatever type of call; there’s a prompt system that gives them options to be as detailed as they want to be, or not. Once it gathers the details, it will direct them to the girls whose profiles match what the caller is requesting…if they are available, of course. If not, it bounces the caller to the next free line. In a few weeks, you’ll update your profile, stating which types of calls you prefer. You might find you excel with the dom/sub calls and want to service only those clients over, say, companion calls and so on. Most of us are like me, I’ll take any type of caller. It keeps it new and fresh.”

Listening to Destiny, I try to jot down as much of this useful information as possible. Who would have thought so much planning went into running a phone sex line?

“Now. To make the most money, you should accept every call. You don’t have to accept every call that pops up, but, personally, I recommend that you do. More calls means more money, the longer the calls, the more money, and the more you answer, the better chance you have of building a call back list of regulars, which means…”

“…more money.”

“Right. And that’s the big windfall, your regulars. Some of my regulars call three times a week—trust me that’s a good chunk of change—and over time, you’ll find them the easiest calls to get through because they’re predictable and you’ll know how to get them off. Make sense?”

“Actually it does. So, think ‘more, more, more’, and know my goal is to be so good that they’ll want to call me again and again.”

“You’re getting it, 69! You’re a-gettin’ it.”

“I feel like this is an easier-said-than-done situation. This is all straightforward so far, but the actual calls are freaking me out a bit,” I share honestly.

“You’ll deal just fine. Think money. It’s all about the money,” Destiny says. “Now, back to the calls. The system will track everything for you, every single call, dropped call, lost call and each call’s length. The system will display a profile based on their responses, along with whether it’s a new caller to your line or a repeat caller. The system is great for regulars, they can punch in our names when prompted ensuring they end up on our line. Just be sure to give them your number, which for you is 69. It’s honestly this, like, crazy entity of a system that scares me with its abilities. Truthfully, I just log in, hit accept and make the magic happen. I don’t bother trying to figure the system out,” she says, laughing, then has me log in, making sure my password works.

“How do we feel about that? Easy enough?” She looks at me, waiting for a reply.

“I think so. Seems pretty straight forward, but I’m with you, I’m not even going to try to understand the system,” I shake my head.

“All right then, let’s talk caller types.” Destiny logs back into the CALLRIGHT icon, finding her name. “I’m going to put my colour on yellow. You use yellow when you need to pause your line, so, to use the washroom, or if you need to leave your suite for a few minutes to grab food or whatever. Just be sure you put it back on green when you’re done. It’ll be on red, indicating you’re off-line until you log in and move it to either yellow or green.”

“Got it—green, go; yellow, no. Red, off-line completely.”

“Yep.” She moves to face me. “Really, there are probably four main types of callers you’ll experience most often. First, there are The Regulars. These are the whales to the phone sex operator, these are the ones who will call anywhere between two- to four times a week, looking to talk to only you every time. These are the callers looking to get off and fast. They are sometimes shy men who have a ton of crazy scenes they’ll want to role-play with you. Anything from a threesome to mutual masturbation to anal, it all depends on what they’re in the mood for. In my experience, these calls usually last anywhere between five to fifteen minutes. The longer you can keep them on the phone, the better, seeing as they call so much. The Regulars will be your bread and butter. They’re fun and love to play and they vary between all genres of caller types. You might even find one you’ll apply your discount to.”

“My discount?”

“Never mind for now, Greta will tell you about it, my job is to focus on teaching you the good stuff. And we only have about an hour left tonight.”

I make a note to ask Greta about the discount that Destiny mentioned rather hastily.

“The second type of callers are what I like to call the Either/Or situations. These callers are either the
Bossy Bastard,
where they want you to submit to their every command
or
they will be the complete opposite and be all
Pansy Wansy,
getting off completely by being at your mercy, allowing you to take complete control of the scene. Those ones go off like lit fireworks at submitting to a powerful woman. These calls tend to be the longest and sometimes require a very vivid imagination. Dominatrixes do not get enough credit, if you ask me. That gig is tough.” She cracks her gum. “You still with me?”