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Angela St. Lawrence is the reigning queen of high-end, long distance training and Femme Domme phone sex, providing esoteric depravity for the aficionado, specializing in Erotic Fetish, Female Domination, Cock Control, Kinky Taboo and Sensual Debauchery. To make an appointment or speak with Ms. St. Lawrence  ...

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Archive for the 'Rhetorically Yours' Category

The Land of MILF and mOnEy

Monday, November 19th, 2007

Believe it or not, many women aspire to try the Phone Sex thing. I know because I get tons of email asking for guidance, suggestions and/or linkage. It is impossible to answer everybody. I try when I can, but usually I'm just too busy doing way too much to get to them all. So I thought I'd take some time to address some of these issues today.  

PLEASE NOTE:  These are only my opinions, but they are based on my personal experience and ethics. Hopefully my callers, my readers, fellow PSOs and aspiring PSOs will find it at least interesting, perhaps enlightening and maybe even instructive.

Yes, it's easy to get going. Just pop sex jobs or phone sex jobs or phone sex into your search engine and you are on your way. Many phone sex sites have an application page readily handy. I am not going to go through all of the possibilities that are available to the beginner. Doxy, of the Phone Slut Diary, provides excellent information for both callers and providers regarding your choices and what to expect.

Like Doxy, I am an independent, working for myself. This is my business which, unlike Doxy, I operate through the NiteFlirt platform. Yes, my business is very successful and I'm able to support myself quite comfortably. That said, if you are new to the industry, I highly recommend working for a service before making the leap to business owner.

Why? Because good phone sex is about more than moaning and groaning and bragging about how hot you are. If you work for a company–maybe even two or three–before spreading your entrepreneurial wings, you will get the experience you need to create a phone sex business that can stand up to the competition. And believe me, there is a lot of competition.

Plus there are many different types of phone sex. Working for a service, particularly one which takes any request (shemale, MILF, incest, mistress, cross-dressing, submissive, bestiality, hermaphrodite, golden showers, etc.), is the best way to hone your craft. You will get invaluable lessons in human relations and sexuality, and even marketing and customer service. You will also learn what phone sex niche best suits your personality and ability.

And working for a number of services will give you exposure to various business paradigms.  Then when you start shifting from worker bee to queen bee, you will have an very good idea as to how you want to run your business.

In the meantime, while you are in the learning stages and even when you're "in the biz," the internet can be your best friend. The information you can garner is invaluable, bountiful and free. Spend your time wisely by checking out the competition, noting what they charge, what they offer, and what makes them stand out. Research fetish terms and types of kink. Read the plethora of free erotic stories that are available everywhere and anywhere.

And remember that even when you are working for a company, you are still in the driver's seat. It is up to you to provide something of value and build up your own customer base. As I kinda-sorta said earlier, everybody and their mother wants to be a Phone Sex Superstar these days. Which means the caller has innumerable choices. How can you provide an experience which makes him remember you and want to call again?

Personally, I think it's imperative to value and respect the caller and his particular brand of kink. It's all about you and your professional integrity. Never judge a man by his fantasy. While you might not be able to fulfill a certain request due to TOS (terms of service) issues, lack of knowledge, understanding and/or ability, that doesn't mean that the caller is a degenerate.

Even when you are new and just testing the waters (very scary…I still remember every moment of the first call I ever took), your ability to treat the caller like a valued customer will go a long way in making up for lack of experience. It's a very easy concept: treat the caller the way you like to be treated when you are doing business with someone. And quite frankly, if you can't or refuse to do that, he will most likely move on to find someone who can. Repeat business is what will build your client base.

I often get age play or bestiality requests. The TOS under which I operate do not permit this type of call. I don't agree with that policy, but I have to follow it. But I don't automatically assume the caller is a perverted monster. From experience, I know that 99 percent of these guys are harmless and living very normal–and sometimes even stellar–everyday lives. And so I tell them that–with much regret on my part and no disrespect to them–I cannot fulfill their particular request. Most of the time, if you are nice, the caller will be nice.

A while back, a regular caller told me that the reason he kept calling back was that he was tired of rude "FemDoms" who didn't even listen to what he wanted, just going off on their own tangents. Which highlights two things worth mentioning here.

  1. Specializing in FemDom, BDSM or even Erotic Humiliation does not justify a lack of manners on the part of the provider. Rudeness is not domination, it is crudeness. And actually reflects a lack of superiority, sophistication and talent.
  2. Listening well is the ultimate secret weapon if you want to be a successful PSO. There is a Chinese proverb which goes like this: To listen well, is as powerful a means of influence as to talk well, and is as essential to all true conversation. Don't underestimate the importance of listening. Because if you do, there is no possible way to attain success. It's the caller's fantasy, not yours. If you insist on it being about you, you will end up with a phone that never rings.

A topic hotly debated in PSO forums and communities is the matter of pricing. Of course, if you are working for a service, they set the price. The company I got started with charged $75/half hour, with that being the minimum. Our customer base was comprised of smart and successful men. I got spoiled by the best, and now market to attract those callers. I like them a lot. And they seem to like me.

But when I first went out on my own, I couldn't remain competitive in my environment at the price I thought I was worth. I had to work my way up, so to speak. The buyer wants to know you're "worth it." And can you blame him? Before you set your price, it is a good idea to look at other providers offering similar services. And if you have no history of doing business to offer up as proof of your expertise, then set your prices a bit lower than those girls. Give the caller a reason to try out the new girl on the block. As you gain professional recognition and a following, you can then begin to raise your prices.

Lastly, a word about wish lists and tips. While most girls–many of my good friends, in fact–these days have wish lists, I opt not to. Why? Because, quite honestly, I want to be valued and paid well for what I do. In other words, SHOW ME THE MONEY. My job is to get the caller off and do it with (hopefully) a whole bunch of panache. Pay me well for my talent, thank you very much. And I don't want the caller to feel obligated or bamboozled by a not-so-subtle hint to buy me something.

Tips are okay, if they come in on their own. Again, I don't expect tips (AKA tributes), nor do I ask for them. Often guys surprise me, which just tickles me pink. This is all rather new, this "gimme, gimme, gimme" attitude on the part of phone sex providers. Unfortunately, I think many girls get into the industry with no thought about providing a quality and professional service. Instead their focus is how much they can get while basically doing nothing to earn or deserve it. Anyway, it's your call. Just think seriously about the ramifications to you and your business.

So, did you learn something? Or did I piss you off?

With Much Affection, Angela

Adult Sex Quiz

Saturday, November 17th, 2007

ADULT SEX QUIZ


Q.) What doesn’t belong in this list: Meat, Eggs, Wife, and Blowjob?
A.) Blowjob: You can beat your meat, eggs or wife, but you can’t beat a blowjob.

Q.) Why does a penis have a hole in the end?
A.) So men can be open minded.

Q.) What’s the speed limit of sex?
A.) 68 because at 69 you have to turn around.

Q.) What does a Rubik cube and a penis have in common?
A.) The longer you play with them, the harder they get.

Q.) What’s the difference between your paycheck and your dick?
A.) You don’t have to beg your wife to blow your paycheck!

Q.) What do you get when you cross Raggedy Ann and the Pillsbury Dough Boy?
A.) A red headed bitch with a yeast infection.

Q.) How can you tell when an auto mechanic just had sex?
A.) One of his fingers is clean.

Q.) What do you do with 365 used rubbers?
A.) Melt them down make a tire, and call it a Goodyear.

Q.) What does bungee jumping and hookers have in common?
A.) They both cost a hundred bucks and if the rubber breaks, you’re screwed.

***Again, I bring you the content of my sister, Bethany’s inter0ffice email.  She forwards me a lot of this stuff.  And–aren’t you lucky–I pass it on to you.  At my end, I see a list of email addresses to which she (and others before her) have forwarded the original.  And let me tell you, ladies and gents,  a large majority of the receivers are female.

Bethany is very high up on the corporate ladder, verily a  mover and shaker, mixing it up with power brokers day in, day out.  My point is that if you’re wondering if sophisticated ladies in suits and heels can get raunchy with the best of them…

Well, hell yes, we can!

xo, Angela 

eBay for Panty Boys

Thursday, November 15th, 2007

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If you’re a guy who likes the feel of Satin and Lace and all things girly, check out the Jolie Boutique, an eBay store offering the above in 2x, along with many other nice girly items. Apparently they understand your kink:

WE SUPPLY LINGERIE FOR WOMEN AND MEN OF ALL SIZES FROM SMALL TO PLUS SIZES. WE SPECIALIZE IN SATIN PANTIES.

Nice, huh?

xo, Angela

Three in the Hand, Thirteen in the Bush

Friday, November 9th, 2007
…were not talking about birds. We’re talking about creative kink in the hands of two very adept "good peoples." So pay attention, ‘cuz the news is awesome and so are the newsmakers.

The Hand:  Lyndee

As you should know by now, I’m not always perfect (shush–don’t tell the slaves). For example, I’m not the most tolerant person–at least in certain cases–and, ironically enough, intolerance is my major bitch. But I am good about celebrating my partners in crime, who are working it…in a good way. Luscious Lyndee happens to be one of those people. I mention her on occasion, and she stops by this blog quite often to leave a comment. I try to return the favor, only usually when I get over to her blog, she is yapping about sports, sports and more sports. Of which, despite being raised in the midst of a father, siblings, cousins uncles and even boyfriends who live for the game–any game, anywhere, anytime–I have neither comprehension nor interest. So it’s almost impossible for me to leave a comment of at least some import. Although she might be getting kinky with clown sex in the near future. You can bet I’ll have something to say then. Honk, honk. Last year, Lyndee expanded her enterprise to offer panty sluts and crossdressers a new place to hang out, The Pink Panty Cafe, which is an adorable little corner for all things sissified. Contrary to what you might thing, many PSOs have a special place in their hearts for sissy boys. I think it’s because they appeal to our maternal (or wicked stepmother) instincts. Well, now she’s gone and done it again–her dynasty grows as she presents a deliciously elegant new site, Earotica, where it looks like she will be offering some nice and some not so nice (x-rated? cross your dirty little fingers) essays and stories in her blog there. Maybe she’ll stop by and let us know. In the meantime, get over there and have yourself a peek-a-boo….and, of course, give her a call. Tell her Angela sent you and I expect a finder’s fee.

The Bush:   Burke

As a journalist/columnist I’ve had the pleasure of interviewing Burke Heffner, the gifted photographer of Things to Look At and lucky husband of the incredibly beautiful Veronica Varlow of Danger Dame. To this day, that interview stands out as one the best times I’ve had when putting ink to notepad. Take if from me, not only is Burke a passionate artist, he is also one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. Multitasking like so many of us do these days, Burke seems to always be up to something. Kinda-sorta specializing in pin-up and glamour, he works with models to build portfolios and is also available for other types of photo sessions, including events. For the amount of time, effort and talent he puts into a photo session, his rates are extremely reasonable. I personally think he is worth much more. So, in case you’re looking, make sure to read more about his services and rates. But the big news today is that Burke has put together a calendar, just in time for Christmas gift-giving: The Lovely Mistresses of George W. Bush. What a unique gift and devilishly grand idea. I know quite a few people who would get a kick out of this. One will be my staunchly republican brother, who I like to zing for his political leanings every chance I get. Featuring thirteen pin-up lovelies with names like Miss Appropriation and Miss Representation, the calendar is very tastefully done and office safe. Burke is donating a portion of the proceeds to Watchdog Organizations fighting corporate influence over our American government. He’s also extended an invitation to none profits and fund raisers. You will find an email address and phone number at his website. Again, I am just tickled pink with the idea, itself. And I know that coming from Burke, it will be top-notch all the way. Because that’s the only way he does things. So how many are you going to buy? Such fun! Thanks, Burke. xo, Angela

Whitman Makes Me Swoon

Tuesday, November 6th, 2007

The Body Electric

~Walt Whitman

1
I sing the body electric,
The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul.
Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies conceal themselves?
And if those who defile the living are as bad as they who defile the dead?
And if the body does not do fully as much as the soul?
And if the body were not the soul, what is the soul?
2
The love of the body of man or woman balks account, the body itself balks account,
That of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect.
The expression of the face balks account,
But the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face,
It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists,
It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist and knees, dress does not hide him,
The strong sweet quality he has strikes through the cotton and broadcloth,
To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more,
You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side.
The sprawl and fulness of babes, the bosoms and heads of women, the folds of their dress, their style as we pass in the street, the contour of their shape downwards,
The swimmer naked in the swimming-bath, seen as he swims through the transparent green-shine, or lies with his face up and rolls silently to and fro in the heave of the water,
The bending forward and backward of rowers in row-boats, the horseman in his saddle,
Girls, mothers, house-keepers, in all their performances,
The group of laborers seated at noon-time with their open dinner-kettles, and their wives waiting,
The female soothing a child, the farmer’s daughter in the garden or cow-yard,
The young fellow hoeing corn, the sleigh-driver driving his six horses through the crowd,
The wrestle of wrestlers, two apprentice-boys, quite grown, lusty, good-natured, native-born, out on the vacant lot at sun-down after work,
The coats and caps thrown down, the embrace of love and resistance,
The upper-hold and under-hold, the hair rumpled over and blinding the eyes;
The march of firemen in their own costumes, the play of masculine muscle through clean-setting trowsers and waist-straps,
The slow return from the fire, the pause when the bell strikes suddenly again, and the listening on the alert,
The natural, perfect, varied attitudes, the bent head, the curv’d neck and the counting;
Such-like I love—I loosen myself, pass freely, am at the mother’s breast with the little child,
Swim with the swimmers, wrestle with wrestlers, march in line with the firemen, and pause, listen, count.
3
I knew a man, a common farmer, the father of five sons,
And in them the fathers of sons, and in them the fathers of sons.
This man was of wonderful vigor, calmness, beauty of person,
The shape of his head, the pale yellow and white of his hair and beard, the immeasurable meaning of his black eyes, the richness and breadth of his manners,
These I used to go and visit him to see, he was wise also,
He was six feet tall, he was over eighty years old, his sons were massive, clean, bearded, tan-faced, handsome,
They and his daughters loved him, all who saw him loved him,
They did not love him by allowance, they loved him with personal love,
He drank water only, the blood show’d like scarlet through the clear-brown skin of his face,
He was a frequent gunner and fisher, he sail’d his boat himself, he had a fine one presented to him by a ship-joiner, he had fowling-pieces presented to him by men that loved him,
When he went with his five sons and many grand-sons to hunt or fish, you would pick him out as the most beautiful and vigorous of the gang,
You would wish long and long to be with him, you would wish to sit by him in the boat that you and he might touch each other.
4
I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough,
To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,
To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough,
To pass among them or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment, what is this then?
I do not ask any more delight, I swim in it as in a sea.
There is something in staying close to men and women and looking on them, and in the contact and odor of them, that pleases the soul well,
All things please the soul, but these please the soul well.
5
This is the female form,
A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot,
It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction,
I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor, all falls aside but myself and it,
Books, art, religion, time, the visible and solid earth, and what was expected of heaven or fear’d of hell, are now consumed,
Mad filaments, ungovernable shoots play out of it, the response likewise ungovernable,
Hair, bosom, hips, bend of legs, negligent falling hands all diffused, mine too diffused,
Ebb stung by the flow and flow stung by the ebb, love-flesh swelling and deliciously aching,
Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous, quivering jelly of love, white-blow and delirious juice,
Bridegroom night of love working surely and softly into the prostrate dawn,
Undulating into the willing and yielding day,
Lost in the cleave of the clasping and sweet-flesh’d day.
This the nucleus—after the child is born of woman, man is born of woman,
This the bath of birth, this the merge of small and large, and the outlet again.
Be not ashamed women, your privilege encloses the rest, and is the exit of the rest,
You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.
The female contains all qualities and tempers them,
She is in her place and moves with perfect balance,
She is all things duly veil’d, she is both passive and active,
She is to conceive daughters as well as sons, and sons as well as daughters.
As I see my soul reflected in Nature,
As I see through a mist, One with inexpressible completeness, sanity, beauty,
See the bent head and arms folded over the breast, the Female I see.
6
The male is not less the soul nor more, he too is in his place,
He too is all qualities, he is action and power,
The flush of the known universe is in him,
Scorn becomes him well, and appetite and defiance become him well,
The wildest largest passions, bliss that is utmost, sorrow that is utmost become him well, pride is for him,
The full-spread pride of man is calming and excellent to the soul,
Knowledge becomes him, he likes it always, he brings every thing to the test of himself,
Whatever the survey, whatever the sea and the sail he strikes soundings at last only here,
(Where else does he strike soundings except here?)
The man’s body is sacred and the woman’s body is sacred,
No matter who it is, it is sacred—is it the meanest one in the laborers’ gang?
Is it one of the dull-faced immigrants just landed on the wharf?
Each belongs here or anywhere just as much as the well-off, just as much as you,
Each has his or her place in the procession.
(All is a procession,
The universe is a procession with measured and perfect motion.)
Do you know so much yourself that you call the meanest ignorant?
Do you suppose you have a right to a good sight, and he or she has no right to a sight?
Do you think matter has cohered together from its diffuse float, and the soil is on the surface, and water runs and vegetation sprouts,
For you only, and not for him and her?
7
A man’s body at auction,
(For before the war I often go to the slave-mart and watch the sale,)
I help the auctioneer, the sloven does not half know his business.
Gentlemen look on this wonder,
Whatever the bids of the bidders they cannot be high enough for it,
For it the globe lay preparing quintillions of years without one animal or plant,
For it the revolving cycles truly and steadily roll’d.
In this head the all-baffling brain,
In it and below it the makings of heroes.
Examine these limbs, red, black, or white, they are cunning in tendon and nerve,
They shall be stript that you may see them.
Exquisite senses, life-lit eyes, pluck, volition,
Flakes of breast-muscle, pliant backbone and neck, flesh not flabby, good-sized arms and legs,
And wonders within there yet.
Within there runs blood,
The same old blood! the same red-running blood!
There swells and jets a heart, there all passions, desires, reachings, aspirations,
(Do you think they are not there because they are not express’d in parlors and lecture-rooms?)
This is not only one man, this the father of those who shall be fathers in their turns,
In him the start of populous states and rich republics,
Of him countless immortal lives with countless embodiments and enjoyments.
How do you know who shall come from the offspring of his offspring through the centuries?
(Who might you find you have come from yourself, if you could trace back through the centuries?)
8
A woman’s body at auction,
She too is not only herself, she is the teeming mother of mothers,
She is the bearer of them that shall grow and be mates to the mothers.
Have you ever loved the body of a woman?
Have you ever loved the body of a man?
Do you not see that these are exactly the same to all in all nations and times all over the earth?
If any thing is sacred the human body is sacred,
And the glory and sweet of a man is the token of manhood untainted,
And in man or woman a clean, strong, firm-fibred body, is more beautiful than the most beautiful face.
Have you seen the fool that corrupted his own live body? or the fool that corrupted her own live body?
For they do not conceal themselves, and cannot conceal themselves.
9
O my body! I dare not desert the likes of you in other men and women, nor the likes of the parts of you,
I believe the likes of you are to stand or fall with the likes of the soul, (and that they are the soul,)
I believe the likes of you shall stand or fall with my poems, and that they are my poems,
Man’s, woman’s, child’s, youth’s, wife’s, husband’s, mother’s, father’s, young man’s, young woman’s poems,
Head, neck, hair, ears, drop and tympan of the ears,
Eyes, eye-fringes, iris of the eye, eyebrows, and the waking or sleeping of the lids,
Mouth, tongue, lips, teeth, roof of the mouth, jaws, and the jaw-hinges,
Nose, nostrils of the nose, and the partition,
Cheeks, temples, forehead, chin, throat, back of the neck, neck-slue,
Strong shoulders, manly beard, scapula, hind-shoulders, and the ample side-round of the chest,
Upper-arm, armpit, elbow-socket, lower-arm, arm-sinews, arm-bones,
Wrist and wrist-joints, hand, palm, knuckles, thumb, forefinger, finger-joints, finger-nails,
Broad breast-front, curling hair of the breast, breast-bone, breast-side,
Ribs, belly, backbone, joints of the backbone,
Hips, hip-sockets, hip-strength, inward and outward round, man-balls, man-root,
Strong set of thighs, well carrying the trunk above,
Leg fibres, knee, knee-pan, upper-leg, under-leg,
Ankles, instep, foot-ball, toes, toe-joints, the heel;
All attitudes, all the shapeliness, all the belongings of my or your body or of any one’s body, male or female,
The lung-sponges, the stomach-sac, the bowels sweet and clean,
The brain in its folds inside the skull-frame,
Sympathies, heart-valves, palate-valves, sexuality, maternity,
Womanhood, and all that is a woman, and the man that comes from woman,
The womb, the teats, nipples, breast-milk, tears, laughter, weeping, love-looks, love-perturbations and risings,
The voice, articulation, language, whispering, shouting aloud,
Food, drink, pulse, digestion, sweat, sleep, walking, swimming,
Poise on the hips, leaping, reclining, embracing, arm-curving and tightening,
The continual changes of the flex of the mouth, and around the eyes,
The skin, the sunburnt shade, freckles, hair,
The curious sympathy one feels when feeling with the hand the naked meat of the body,
The circling rivers the breath, and breathing it in and out,
The beauty of the waist, and thence of the hips, and thence downward toward the knees,
The thin red jellies within you or within me, the bones and the marrow in the bones,
The exquisite realization of health;
O I say these are not the parts and poems of the body only, but of the soul,
O I say now these are the soul!