Sunday 22 June 2008

Lazy Sunday...

A Lazy Sunday today. Went to a small village Rose Show. I wish I had taken a couple from my garden (I mean my proper garden not my Lady Garden), just to join in the village fun.
We also had a Devonshire Cream Tea. Was a bit rubbish, I'm sorry to say. The scones were too crumbly to spread the jam on and the tea was so insipidly weak and foul I coldn't drink it. And they obviously dont rinse their dishes as I could tase soap suds. Ugh.

Did a bit of work on the phones, am on the phone now. All the callers seem to be watching porn tonight. This guy I'm talking to right now is fantasising about his girlfriend being a dirty slut and him being a worthless peice of and not being able to satisfy her cos his dick is so small.
Ah, young love, so romantic.

Saturday 21 June 2008

Back from not being here...

I know, I know, its been a while. I’ve had a crap couple of weeks. My old dog had to be PTS and it took me a while to get back on track. I did try working, but wasn’t in the mood to put up with faking it to shitheads. I did one call and it went as follows;

Me; Hello, how are you
Him; I’m horny and I have my mine inch cock in my hand.
Me; Oh, fuck off you twat.

And I slammed the phone down. Fuck ‘em, I just couldn’t be bothered.

But now, I’ve eased myself back into it this week, and by next week I shall be full time again.

I’ve also decided I have to get cracking and tell you more about my life, how I fucked it up and ended up as a telephone whore. And the fun I had doing it along the way.

More later, I’m on the chatlines right now, taking calls as I secretly type.
Which I shouldn’t do as I don’t pay proper attention to what they’re saying. Then I find myself lost in whatever the scenario is and I wonder ‘where the hell are we up to now’ as I start talking about oral when he's talking about anal. He must think I'm some sort of contortionist lol

Friday 6 June 2008

Sleepy very sleepy. Was up very late last night, working. Am logged on to the chatlines right now, but am stifling yawns. Not good for business. Must go and sleep.

Thursday 5 June 2008

I've gone right off chocolate since doing this job...

Pass the sick bag its poo eaters night. They are all at it tonight. I told you they come in waves didn’t I?

What the hell is wrong with these people? I mean, what’s the kick? It seems to be different for different callers. One bloke likes me to be so filthy, it makes him dry retch. Honestly. The sound of him retching almost makes me gag in return but I’d never give him the satisfaction.
Its like he wants to be grossed out to the point of being sick. I am sure he has been a couple of times. Its gross, I tell you, gross!

Some callers love it as a domination theme and want the whole toilet slave scenario, licking out the toilet, being locked in the bathroom and having all my dinner guests use their filthy toilet mouth to crap in.

Then there are the callers that seem to think it’s a declaration of love. He loves me so much he is willing to eat my turds. Including those corn and carroty ones.

There has to be a gap in the market for greeting cards related to this subject, surely?


(on the front of card)
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I love you so much
(on the inside)
I want to chow down on your poo
(the pic on the inside is of a man in a tux holding out a plate with one hand and holding a knife & fork in the other)

Wednesday 4 June 2008

Be a man, admit it...

Good Morning Avid Blog Readers.
I never got a chance to write more last night, the phones turned out to be busy and all that stopping and starting when I write does my head in. Good for the callers who want domination tho as I can talk in my irritated voice and have a real crack at them
“Why are you pissing me about” I said to one guy after he had annoyed me for long enough “Why aren’t you man enough to admit you like getting dressed up like a slut and being fucked up the arse” then I made him yell out “I’m a man but I fantasize about sucking cock. I must be a sissy slut” lol Oh the power, its great. I hope he had near neighbours and they heard him. Wanker.


Honestly, I have no sympathy for these blokes who ring up, wanting to fantasize about bi or homosexuality. The caller usually starts off being all tough, talking pussy and tits, but then he’ll say ‘what would your boyfriend do if he caught us’ and then I know that what he really wants is to get on his knees and kiss a big dick. But these men don’t want to be responsible for their desires, so in their fantasy, I am the one who forces them to do it. It then becomes out of their control, so it must mean they are not ‘gay‘. Twats, honestly. Makes me laugh as it’s mostly the cockney geezers, or city types. It’s hardly ever the Oxbridge wankers, they always seem at ease with their sexual desires. Gee, I wonder why?


I don’t do serious domination- not yet anyway. I am trying to work up to it. I just find some of it a bit weird, psychologically. Oh, I know, people say ‘but it’s just as fantasy…’ and sure enough, the few times I have done it the blokes have cum, then stepped completely away from the fantasy an been ‘normal’ again. In fact, subs are the few callers who actually have the manners to say thanks and goodbye. Their mothers would be proud.


But I wonder, what makes someone want to be told to stick an egg up their backside, and cluck like a chicken? Or put a belt round their neck like a collar, get on all fours and run round yapping like a fox terrier? Believe me it happens, I’ve made them do it lol
I spose tho, what do I really care? They can cluck like a chicken and bark like a dog as much as they want, it pays my wages!


Another short(ish) blog tonight. It’s now 6.15 am and I have been up all night on the phones so I need to get a few hours sleep so I can cope with the rest of the day.

At least the sky looks clear today. It’s been pissing down in England lately- I want some sun!
Later folks xx

Tuesday 3 June 2008

Tonight I learnt I can be ruder here...

Good evening Avid Blog Readers. I’m back on the sex chat lines tonight as I type. It will be a slow entry tho, as my headset has broken down so I have to hold the bloody phone with one hand, which means I cant type as I talk. I’m on the desk computer anyway and the keyboards noisy so I wouldn’t be able to get away with it anyhow. I have to pretend to be having orgasms here lol.

Blogging is new to me, so I’ve been reading a few others to see how its done. I have been a holding back a little as I wasn’t sure about the content, and just how raunchy I was allowed to be, but after reading a blog from a woman and her explicit description of her sex life (sorry ABR’s, I didn’t save it so I cant link you there lol) I figured that it’s okay to be somewhat more descriptive about my job(s) and my past experiences as a totally whacked out London Party Girl in the 1990’s.

Lets start with tonight’s callers. Fuck me what a bunch of losers tonight, so far.
It seems to be dickhead night tonight on the phones. Funny how things go in cycles. What is it that makes 5 blokes, all called Dave (or if their name isn’t Dave, what is it that makes them choose Dave as a pseudonym?) and all be weak sounding voices and all want to be dominated in some way? It’s like my own fucking Groundhog Day, I tell you.
Well, sometimes I love doing the domination and humiliation calls. I just let vent to this silly pratt who one minute tells me he has a small cock and wants me to humiliate him, the next he is trying to tell me he’s gonna fuck me!
What?!” I said, “what makes you think you are coming anywhere near me with that tiny little prick, you pathetic little shit”.

Ah, feels so good to let it all out and rant a caller every now and then. And get paid for it.
Okay, I’m gonna post this now, short and sweet as it is. I’ll be back later to do more, but I have to nip downstairs to watch a film with my mum. Back soon xx

Sunday 1 June 2008

No phone talk tonight, yay!

The great thing about tonight is its Sunday and I don’t have to work on the phones tonight. Yay! I don’t have to pretend to be interested in the sexual wants and needs of the men in today’s society. Because I really don’t give a shit. I’ve had so much sex in my life I couldn’t care less if I never see another penis again.
Well, I say that. Maybe I’m being a bit hasty. I’d quite like to get out there again and have some more sex. I just feel too old lol, it’s been a while, and not sure I want some stranger to see my overgrown, unkempt Lady Garden lol.
Anyway, the rotten thing about tonight was I had to do my dishwashing job at the local pub. Bummer eh, having to wash dishes. Oh well, beggars cant be choosers as they say.
And right now I’m a beggar, practically. I used to earn decent money, but it all went on maintenance of me (hair, nails, sexy clothes etc) so I never saved any or did the sensible thing and bought a house. No, I spent it, and drank it and drugged it all away. Now I live in the country, get paid to talk dirty on the phone (and its not as high paid as you’d think either) and wash dishes in the local pub a couple of nights a week.
I am seriously pissed off with myself for getting into this situation. I really have to up my game on the phone and start making my calls last longer and try harder to fake it better. I know I can do it. Other than that, the only way out I can see is to go back to escort work, but alas alack, this time as an older woman. OMG how bloody tragic is that. I’ll be one of those sad old birds that we youngsters used to pity and sometimes laugh at. Oh well, I’ve had worse, so long as the money is good enough. I hate the thought of returning to it, but if I do, at least I am sensible now and will use the money wisely (save it and wait for the bottom to drop out of the property market then buy buy buy!) Well, that’s after I’ve paid off the debts.
Last time I really fucked up. I started to party and it went downhill from there. I had a good time doing it though hehe.
When I came to London from The Other Side Of The World, I had already been an escort for about 6 years and was doing okay, but still fucked up by having a boyfriend who lived off me- for some stupid, ignorant, immature reason I seemed to think that was a cool lifestyle. What an idiot.
Once here in London, I wanted to get into escorting as it was all I knew.
Well, not true actually. I had been horse riding since the age of eight and was pretty good, all I needed was the right tuition to enable me to make a decent career out of it, but I had got used to a lazy lifestyle. For a start, I no longer did early mornings unless I was on my way home from a club. (that’s sure is a funny feeling you know, walking down Oxford St, at 8.30am, wearing a tight black evening dress and shiny shoes, make up a little worn and obviously quite pissed. Everyone else dressed in suits, looking at the Dirty-Stop-Outs. Tut tut)
I also wanted to experience true city life. I had lived in cities before, but they were small fry compared to London, New York etc and I wanted, needed, to have it. I did have the opportunity to train with a top trainer but I opted out of having the luxury of a single bed in a room shared with three others and a lousy £80 per week as a ‘working pupil’. I now know it was a big mistake as who knows where I’d be today if I had grabbed that opportunity. Possibly preparing for the Olympics? (altho I wouldn’t go to bloody China, I’d boycott ‘em) But certainly not on my back hooking for the next twenty years, I’d say.
So I decided to stay in London where, whilst I was checking out escort agencies, I discovered the crazy world of hostessing and that was it, I was hooked.
That’s all for tonight, more later. Have to get me beauty sleep. Nite Nite.