Dearest Miss Angela:

I saw you online today in the early afternoon hours and by the time I grabbed my credit card and other necessary accoutrements, you were busy and then after an hour or some, away.

I kept checking the whole afternoon and into the later hours to no avail.  Craving a connection with you (however fleeting — I was desperate for you, beloved Mistress) I started reading your entries and stories and clicking on the links on your pages, and I ended up in  Secrets in Lace

How did I — pervert, pornography lover, pleasure addict — not know of this site?  I couldn’t help myself, and began to masturbate so furiously and insanely that I came all over my pants and onto the floor.  Even this did not sate my desire for you, but still you were not availabe.  And so I ripped off my pants.  And even being  on the wrong side of 40, I immediately started masturbating again, groaning with absolutely no control over my senses. I came again, raw and wet and sticky, panting, covered in sweat, my arm cramped, my cock shriveled up, blue and pink happy.  And the first thing I thought was: I wish I could speak with Angela; I wish I could go again.

Secrets in Lace is the most amazing site ever, and I would never have found it if not for you.  I think I’m going to buy their stuff just so that I can touch it. For a lingerie and vintage fetishist like me, this is where and when every nerve ending in my body and every sense is enveloped in a feeling of completeness, of perfection, of pure joy. All senses overwhelmed, dazzled by the shine of pantyhose, the tight and soft texture of garter belts, the sound of my fingers sliding on a camisole, the taste of a nipple getting harder and darker behind a demi-cup bra, the smell of a woman’s flower getting wetter and opening itself for me under an open-bottom girdle.  Even now, thinking about these things, I find myself once again aroused.

I am begging you to find time for me tomorrow because I do need you so very much.  The reason?  I want to take one of the fantasies you’ve been gently urging me to explore a step further.  I don’t know where it will take me, and I don’t know if I have the courage to go there.   Only with your guidance and reassurance do I dare breach that door.  Strange – every woman I’ve ever had sex with has told me at one time or another that I’m the most uninhibited guy they ever met.  Would they appreciate the irony of my needing you to force my boundaries?

I’ve often told you that even I am amazed that I’ve shared so much with you.  I’ve expressed desires and hungers with you that I’ve never shared with with any woman, be she someone I have a real-time sexual relationship with or a Phone Sex Operator/Fantasy Girl.  The truth is that any other phone-fantasy girl pales and wilts in comparison to you.  Yet I have been frozen for weeks in this place, facing the door I dare not open.

But here I am and I understand that I will have to make a major leap of faith in myself, and go forward just trusting you.  I want to open that door, and see what that room is like.  There is absolutely no one whose instincts I trust as much as I trust yours. Although my heart is palpitating with fear, I know that with both your decisive skill and superior intellect I will be in the best of hands.  And so I am reaching out to you, waiting for you to take my hand.  Waiting for you to let loose your transcendent imagination and walk me into that room.  That room that holds both my desires and fears.  Desires you’ve patiently nurtured until now they loom across my sexual psyche and can no longer be ignored. 

Desires you’ve created in a room you’ve created for this man you’ve created.  And I adore you for it.

Telling you that you are the finest and the best is just proof of the limitations of language. There aren’t words for you.  Perfect? Not enough. Deliciously and wickedly delightful?  Not even close.  A spinning Dervish of sexual imagination and willingness to explore?  Close, but still not quite there.

You are YOU.  There is no other.

Thank you, Mr. N

It matters to me that I do my job well; it really does.  But despite the FemDom glam and glitz, I’m really just a mortal girl and certainly don’t get it right every single time. 

But nobody — absolutely no fuckin’ body — can deny the fact that I put 110% into each and every call.   Once  I pick up that phone, the rest of the world ceases to exist, and there is just you and me and mischief extraordinaire.  

It’s nice to know my callers appreciate that about me.  I never ask for reviews, but a lot of you go above and beyond to make sure I know how you feel, leaving generous 5 star commentary that causes me to grin from ear to ear.  I sometimes forget to thank you. (Ya know … in the heat of the moment and all.  *wink*)  But I want you to know that I do read them and do appreciate your words.

So … let’s see what you had to say.  Shall we?

*****  I am the deviant devotee of the diva of debauchery. Angela gives the expression glad-handing a very fine new meaning and I am, her humble and most appreciative servant. Thank you   my gem of infinite facets; you are divine.

*****  My God! She has fileted my gray matter, flambe’d my libido, sauteed my psyche. I am medium and she is rare. The sensitive, graceful sadism she practices is unique and addictive and like a naked General MacArthur, I joyfully exclaim "I shall return!?" 

*****  Sexy, intelligent, charming, articulate, controlling and wonderful. Time just melted away with Miss Angela. I can barely wait for our next encounter. 

*****  Magnificent as always; give her the seed and she will make it blossom with insight. Magic voice and wit. Best call ever!

*****  Mistress Angela will open your eyes; what she does to the rest of you is too delicious to describe. The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself.  

*****  Ms. St. Lawrence, as always, you deliver the perfect mix of sexiness, intelligence and raw in-your-face perversion. I’ll always come back for more, because there’s absolutely nobody who does it better or badder.

*****  4 out of 5 hypno-verts recommend Angela St Lawrence over other brands of tele-Domme-ination. United States Dominatrix Association (USDA)-approved, 100% pure erotic juice concentrate, no bullshit added, hand-holding or other ego-preservatives added. The Ultimate "Stroke of Good Fuck." Zero carbs, all protein, (your own). "A-wunnerful, a-wunnerful."

*****  The only problem is saying goodbye.

*****  Nowadays, a brain is generally a rare find. A bright one is basically a miracle. And that’s what Angela is, a miracle that is a real treat for both your sexuality and your intelligence. Be very good to yourself: read what she writes, and talk to her! Personally, I plan to do that often enough.

*****  Angela is mighty wonderful – took my fantasy and ran with it and made it perfect. Very enjoyable! Thank you Angela. 

*****  Honest, intelligent discourse, Earnest in Her passion for Her craft…Thank You, Shall phone again..Merci… 

*****  Back to basics: a woman who listens first, has a free, uncensored imagination, the warm voice of your best lover, and the ability to spin the wildest erotic stories. I’d be in love if I weren’t so busy being satisfied. Thanks, Angela, for yet another perfect call.  

*****  My #1 and only.

*****  An international trip made reaching Angela a bit more complicated than usual – but once I heard her voice, I knew I was home. Even from half way around the world, she can make my heart stop. An intercontinental treasure.

*****  Intuitive and completely in charge of the tale she weaves… satisfying and addictive…. very impressed! 

***** Not just the very, VERY best on NiteFlirt. Angela St Lawrence is the very best ANYWHERE. You can find cheaper by the dozen, you can find more expensive "Flirts" by the score. But until you call Angela you’ll ALWAYS be wanting just a little bit MORE! 

You guys rock!  Thanks from the bottom of my heart.

xo, Angela

The Elephant in the Closet: 

Of Mixed Metaphors, Phone Sex Snafus & FemDom Interludes

or

Is That Your Fat Uncle in Your Panties Behind the Hangers?

Sometimes things change.  That’s the way it goes, and — I don’t know about you, but — I’m not very good at change.  When my favorite seafood restaurant lost its lease and moved to another location, I could hardly stand it and even stopped frequenting that same restaurant until I got to jonesing for their most awesome crab legs and one-of-a-kind steak salads.  Ah, the bend and the sway of real life with  all it’s complex detours.

As you may or may not know, I take my Phone Sex calls through the NiteFlirt platform.  When I decided to get back into the Business of Talking Dirty, I considered a variety of options.  Working for a Phone Sex Company was one possibility.  And I did give it a shot.  Briefly.  Very briefly.  Let’s just say that things weren’t quite what they seemed and I left rather abruptly, sacrificing the $1,000 plus they owed me.  I knew I’d never get the cash, but at that point I felt I had to put my callers’ well-being before my personal monetary considerations.  It was the right move.  I learned a lot and I’ve never regretted it.

I also made a very good friend while working for that company who urged me to go back to my original plan of starting my own one-woman service.   She was right.  From the beginning, my main concern was that — which ever way I did business — my callers had a superior and safe experience.  It’s the Internet, after all; trust and security are big deals.  I wanted to take care of my callers in the way I would want to be taken care of as a “customer.”

I seriously thought about going with my own merchant account, which would have given me oodles of control over the “customer experience,”  except I absolutely detest talking money with PhoneSex Callers.  Kinda-sorta ruins the mood, dontcha think?  I looked at Pay Per Call services (too impersonal and a bit cumbersome for my taste).  I checked out more than a few Phone Sex Platforms and Phone Sex Billing Services — they all had their positives and negatives.  In a word, I was doing my homework.   And don’t get me wrong — there are a lot of legit, very good options out there.  I just was looking for, I dunno, something with that certain je ne sais quoi.

And I found that certain something which I could not define with NiteFlirt.   For those of you who are not familiar with the site, let me break it down.  A very good way to look at NiteFlirt is to see it as a “PHONE SEX MALL,” where Independent Phone Sex Operators lease space from which to run their Phone Sex Business.  This is good for the Phone Sex Shopper, because he can peruse and compare at his own pace and discretion.  A handy menu (Anything Goes, Phone with Cam, BDSM, Role Play, Fetish, etc.) makes it easy to find exactly what you are looking for.

There’s some other pretty awesome benefits:

• You are anonymous!  You can create a “member name” and be completely confident that NiteFlirt will keep your personal info safe and secure.
• There’s a Satisfaction Guarantee which is practically unheard of in the Phone Sex Industry.
• New callers receive Three Free Minutes for their first call through the system.
• NiteFlirt enforces a rigid Anti-Spam Policy — Can I hear an AMEN!
• You have several payment options including ATM Cards, Debit Cards or Check Cards

Additionally, the NIteFlirt system is very flexible — responsive to individual preferences.  Callers are not required to commit to a minimum call time or to purchasing bulk minutes which must be used right then and there.  Instead, you “pay as you go.”  You might opt to keep the call brief (with deposited monies rolling over for later calls) or might want to even add as you go and continue the call.

You can call every day or once a year.  You can call one girl exclusively or just slut yourself out all over the site.  You can even create different accounts if you want to keep your “submissive self” separate from you “dominant self.”  It’s totally about  you and what you prefer. Not a bad deal, eh?

So now you know why I do business with YOU through the NiteFlirt platform.  Aren’t you a lucky boy?  (Let me hear it:  Yes, Mistress, I am a lucky boy.  I am a very lucky boy.)

But recently NiteFlirt has undergone some changes and — up until now — I’ve chosen NOT to address those changes here at this blog.  I really didn’t want to.  I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to — that everything would be all hunky-dory by now.  But it isn’t.  It isn’t … but it IS getting there.  The NiteFlirt platform is basically undergoing a total overhaul and it’s taking more time than expected.  And it can be trying.

So we need to talk about it.  I need to talk to YOU about it.

First, let me assure you that all the perks and goodies I listed above are still strong and still in place.  A quality “Customer Experience” is still the numero uno focus of NiteFlirt.  And, as you know, it is always and forever my goal.  But, quite frankly, we (callers and PSOs alike) are experiencing a few technical difficulties.

Beginning from almost-scratch to re-build what is a very sophisticated system is proving taxing for the techs; they’ve run into a multitude of glitches and issues they didn’t foresee.  But they are working day and night to get it right.   Behind the scenes, NiteFlirt is in continuous dialogue with Flirts, noses to the grindstone, indefatigable in their quest to identify, isolate and repair mechanical irregularities.  Pretty impressive, actually.

Like I said:  ALL THE GOOD STUFF IS WORKING JUST FINE

Which means that, as a customer, most of the technical stuff shouldn’t affect you too much.  It might be irksome — for example, if the connection is suddenly lost — but certainly not earth-shattering.  And anything you might run into is easily-remedied by either calling right back (in most cases that will do it) or filling out a Customer Support Form which you can find by clicking the “help” tab at the top of your account page.  The two callers of mine who actually filled out the Support Form were very impressed and pleased with how their situation was handled.

International Access is currently unavailable, and it might be a while until this issue is resolved.  But don’t let that stop you.  Download VoIP software, like Skype (an eBay company) in the meantime.  Last night, an Australian caller using Skype (Hi, Mr. G!) was able to forward the call from Skype to his regular phone and we had an absolutely smashing time.  And a kinky one, for that matter.  And don’t you even dare ask, because that’s between me and Mr. G.!

A few other tips:

• If you call a girl you really like, save her to your favorites so you can quickly find her the next time.
• Send thank you Emails so SHE can keep track of YOU.
• Write down the extension/s of your favorite PSO/s.  Just in case.
• If you can, place your call from the website.  Calling over the phone is still a little glitchy and you might not be able to find a fav gal.
• If you need an issue addressed STAT, call the number on your credit card statement and leave a message.  Someone will be in touch!

Lastly, don’t you forget for a moment that NiteFlirt is THE premium Phone Sex Site on the web.  They’ve got your back!  They always have and always will go the extra mile for customers.  So keep the faith and stick with us through this little bit of turbulence.  It’s really all about the future.  It’s about making NiteFlirt an even better place for you to visit and the customer experience uber superior.  I have the inside scoop, my lovelies, and there are many fabulous features to be added down the road.

Just you wait and see.  And be prepared to be amazed.

xo, Angela

(And if you’re a sniveling little runt of a slave boy, count your blessings, get on your fucking knees and crawl to the phone.  NOW.)

… and long time, no talk. 

At least that’s the way it was between Mr. N and myself until I got this absolutely wonderful email from him:

Dear Angela St. Lawrence:

From an old friend who remembers you as Misty.

I must have done something good to somebody once to have found your card with your web site and all on it.

By the way, there used to be a picture of a lady with a strap-on in your site. That’s gone. Ahhh. Where is that picture?

OK. Enough blabbering. I pray that you are healthy and well-taken care of, that you are safe and loved, that life comes back to embrace you with goodness and joy even when things go up and down, and that you embrace it back.  Be good to yourself, eat lots of veggies, stay away from soft drinks, drink water and juice and delicious teas, and be good to yourself.  You are a delight.

Dying to talk with you,

Mr. N.

Yes, he knew me as Misty — one of my "characters" at the phone sex service I worked for when in college.  Regardless of the name — and believe you me, a phone sex operator usually goes by many — the connection was a good one.  So, a few years back — when I left the corporate world to rev up the kink-O-phone once again — I’d contacted him and we’d started up again like there hadn’t even been a lapse.  And so we continued for quite a while.

Until he suddenly disappeared.   Being a busy girl with a lot of regular clients, it took a while for me to notice.  Hey?  Wonder what’s up with Mr. N.?  He hasn’t called in quite a while now. Hmmm.  But the world kept turning and the phone kept ringing.  So, although I never ever forgot him, I had to move on.  Two years later — during which I thought about Mr. N. at least once a week, sometimes more — and there he is in my mailbox!  Woot!

I immediately emailed him back and — as they say — the rest is history.  WE ARE ON!  We picked up — for the second time — right where we left off, without skipping a beat. 

It was so much fun to catch up.  Mr. N. apologized for the disappearing act, explaining the whats, wheres and whys of it.  We commiserated about OUTSOURCING — of which we both have too much experience.  We talked about the validity of ANY fantasy and the psychological dualities and complexities of human sexuality.  He told me about his new business venture.

So then I reminded Mr. N of the two-girl call he’d done with me and another (supposedly talented) PSO when I’d been with that service where he’d first contacted me, because it is one of my funniest and fondest memories of him.  He really didn’t remember, but that speaks a lot more to my ego than his memory retention abilities. 

You see, at that point in time, way back when …

Mr. N really wanted to try two girls at once.  This was new ground for him and, obviously, an expensive endeavor.  While I usually don’t like other girls in on calls with me (it’s a mixed bag and you never know who will be up to the task or professional … I’ve actually heard the other girl typing during a call), who was I to rain on his parade?  Despite the fact that the other PSO had only been with our company for a few days, the dispatcher assured me that she was experienced, having worked a considerable length of time  for another phone sex company before signing on with us. 

So — just to be safe — I took it upon myself to talk with this girl first.  Because while Mr. N. delighted me to no end, he was a rather demanding caller.  His fantasies were complex and multi-layered, and he required a lot of verbosity from my side when we played.   So I explained all this to Mr. N’s and I’s pending phone mate, giving her a general outline of Mr. N’s likes, dislikes and hot buttons and emphasizing that it was absolutely essential that she pay close attention to the fantasy as it evolved and to then respond/interact in explicit and creative ways.

You might think that was rather bitchy of me, and perhaps this new PSO thought the same, despite the fact that I went out of my way to be positive and friendly during our entire pre- phonesex huddle.  Oh well, too bad.  Mr. N was paying double for this adventure and he deserved the best.  I owed it to him, myself and the phone sex company to do everything possible to make this thing work well.  Jezuz Chrizt!  Mr. N was paying double for what would probably be an extended call.  In other words:  BIG BUCKS!

But no worries!  This gal told me so.  No worries at all; she knew what she was doing and had this thing in the bag.  And so, it was time to do the dirty deed.

And let me tell you, my friends, it was bad.  We got the moaning, the groaning.  And then more moaning and groaning.  With unflagging expectations and hopes that this was just a case of stage fright which Ms. New PSO would soon overcome, Mr. N and I moved forward with the fantasy.  Then silence, then more moaning and groaning.  I think at one point she did say, "Does that feel good?"  How original and spontaneous! This was an interactive role-play!  Where were the visual pictures and clever words she’d promised?  More groaning.  Then some grunting and heavy breathing — well at least that was something new.  As you might imagine, I was rapidly approaching panic status.  Poor Mr. N!  What was I do to to get us out of this mess?

Suddenly, Mr. N cleared his throat.  Girls, lets stop this for a moment.

Uh oh!

Mr. N proceeded to basically tell New PSO — in his soft-spoken and genteel manner –that she absolutely sucked at this.  He told her that he wanted her to disconnect from the call so he and Misty could continue the fantasy without her.  He assured her that he was not angry, that he was confident that she’d get better at this phone sex thing IF she followed Misty’s example and learned all she could from Misty.  Because Misty was the absolute.  Misty was an artist.  Misty was perfection.  Misty would teach her how to do it right.  Misty was the alpha and omega. 

… and all that jazz. 

While I’ll be the first to admit that Mr. N is possibly a bit biased and even perhaps smitten, seeing me as he does through the erotic glaze of our unconventional and downright dirty escapades — she really wasn’t any good at this phone sex thing.   And even though Mr.N did go on-and-on-and-on about my wonder-hood-ness, he had a valid complaint and was paying for what he’d hoped would be an extraordinary experience.  He was frustrated, poor man.  Even so, he was diplomatic and encouraging with New PSO.

It didn’t matter though.  She was offended or pissed or whatever — because she abruptly hung up the phone.  Very loudly hung up the phone.  And that was the very last of New PSO.  Literally.  She was gone, vamoosed, poof, disappeared.  Bye, bye bye.  Later, after Mr. N and I had said our goodbyes, I called the service and gave them the scoop.  When they rang her up, they got her voice mail.  She was officially missing in action and nobody ever heard hide nor hair from her again.

Oh well … 

Maybe she’s married with five children now.  She could be a model, a nanny, a doctor, an Olympic competitor, a beauty consultant.  Who knows?  Or perhaps she’s the CEO of one of the successful Phone Sex Companies with whom I compete for business.  Where ever she is and what ever she’s doing, I wish her well.

Because Mr. N and I — for the second time — found each other again.  And all is right with the world.  Now I gotta get going and find that strap-on picture for Mr. N.  I promised!

xo, Angela