I never know what is going to tickle your fancy.  I write.  Sometimes I show you a dirty picture or hook you up with (what I think is) interesting linkage.  I rant and rave and even tell jokes or give you the inside dope on the Phone Sex business.  I observe.  I share my love for poetry … and I’m tickled pink that you seem to like it too or at least give it a fair shake before turning up your nose.  I guess you could say that  I get around and you happily hold tightly onto my skirt tails.  And off we go!

But today it’s just you and me, baby:  us or we, he and she.  Reiterating a bit here about the Phone Sex Fantasies and FemDom Adventures I create time and again … for you, me and those other guys.  How about I answer the oft-asked question:  Why all the mystery, Angela?  No face pics or selling pussy pictures and that kind of stuff?  For two reasons.  First, because I believe you’re smart enough to know better.  And secondly, because I don’t try to to cheat you with bought content, nor pretend to be either the oh-so-parochial "Lifestyle Domme" or the "Barely Legal Princess" who happens to have the Lauren Bacall voice.  I don’t have a zillion different personae so that I can cash in on every possible slant of kink.  I am me:  a real girl living my version of the American Dream.  All you really need to know (at least to start out with)  is that I’m not a paper doll, am as normal as you are in your daily life and am experienced enough to bring a sophisticated, informed and somewhat unique (some would say quirky) slant to this Phone Sex thing. 

Besides, I think a little bit of mystery happens to be a very good thing.  Don’t you?

My job — at least the way I see it — is to bring YOUR FANTASY (not your reality … you can get plenty of that by just opening your eyes every morning) to full fruition, at least for the the little bit of time we share together.  Ya know, I don’t always star in the Phone Sex Fantasies I create.   Sometimes I have a minor role and sometimes I just watch the kink unfold and give you the blow-by-blow.  It’s really on a call-by-call basis, with our chemistry creating the game plan. 

So let me tell you about this guy who called a few days back.  It was one of those calls that creep me out so much that I just want to unplug the phone, put on my PJs and watch Turner Classic Movies all day.  So this guy starts out by asking me what I like.  NOT A GOOD FIRST QUESTION!  What I like is not relevant.  Besides, I have enough of an Internet Presence that speaks very clearly to my particular bent.   When someone asks a PSO that question, it’s like he’s forcing her into a pop quiz of sorts, only he is the only one who knows the correct answer and if you are wrong …  HONK!  You lose.  On to the next girl.

So I try to explain that I like a lot of things, but what we come up with together is what will create the real spark.  He presses, I dance and use my wiley charms in an attempt to pursuade him against this line of questioning.  He still presses.  So I tell him a bit more about my experience of working a Phone Sex job throughout my college education and explain how much exposure that gave me to a wide variety of fetishes and kinks, and that I actually do surprise even myself even now with some new or different sexual scenario that will pop up out of the blue and catch my proletariat fancy for a day or week or even a few months until it’s replaced or put on the shelf to be pulled out again at a later date.

Well this guy just won’t give up.  His next question is:  What did you do for real while you were in college?

Now I’m starting to get that creepy-crawler feeling.  Here is a guy who’ve I just met via the telephone, we’ve spoken for less than five minutes, and he wants to jerk his dick to stories about what a slut I was in college?  Fuck that!  He’s a frickin’ parasite, pure and simple.  And while those of you who’ve gotten to know me over the course of a few calls do learn a bit about my personal experiences, this weenie head — who I’m beginning to detest intensely — doesn’t get that privilege.

But I’m a trooper, so I try one last time:  Listen, Mr. X, this call is not about me, it’s about you and what you’re into.

Finally, Dumbo is frustrated enough that he says:  I think I’m going to call somebody else.

And — you betcha — I am mighty pissed:  I think that is an excellent idea.

And I slammed the phone down.  Yes, I hung up on him, which is something I rarely do.  And you know what?  It felt good.  The only thing better would have been if I could have reached through the phone and put him into The Humbler.   Hmmm … just thinking about it makes me hot.  Maybe even add a nice bit of castration to the mix … that will teach him!

But enough of that.  What I really started out wanting to say is that the fact that you keep coming around, tickles me pink.  And the very fact that you are continuing to stay tuned, call and write means I am tickling your fancy.  Just the way I am — real girl, not paper doll — you get me, appreciate me and even like me.  And that’s my blessing. 

Thanks, guys!

xo, Angela

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 9th, 2008 at 8:44 am and is filed under And Another Thing, Disciplinary Action, femdom phone sex, phone sex, Rhetorically Yours. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.