Call Me
Call on me, oh call up, baby.
Call on me, oh call.
Call on me oh call up, darling.
I know who you are.
Come up off your calling chart.
I know where you're coming from.
Call me (call me) on the line.
Call me, call me any anytime.
Call me (call me), I'll arrive.
You can call me any day or night.
Call me!
Cover me with kisses, baby.
Cover me with love.
Roll me in designer sheets.
I'll never get enough.
Emotions come, I don't know why.
Cover of love's alibi.
Call me (call me) on the line.
Call me, call me any anytime.
Call me (call me), I'll arrive.
When you're ready we can share the wine.
Call me.
Call Me by Blondie
BPOV:
I sat on a bench behind Pulse, my job; nibbling on a bushel of grapes. It was the middle of the night and I could hear the rain drops pinging against the metal overhang above me. There was an eight foot wooden fence that surrounded the small outdoor break area. I was sitting on one of the two red benches with my feet propped up on the picnic table seat.
The wooden boards kept me and the other girls hidden from view; not that it mattered. Beyond the small wooden enclosure was a parking lot surrounded by a ten foot chain link fence that you needed a code to get into. When I first came to Pulse six months ago all the high fences and locked doors made me feel trapped. Now, they make me feel safe.
They were all precautions to maintain our safety. To make us feel secure when we received threats or promises of an unwanted meeting. When fantasy turned to obsession and rejection caused anger. We are nothing more than a fantasy manufactured in the minds of the countless perverted men that called nightly for our services.
This wasn't where I was supposed to be at the tender age of twenty one. I was supposed to be in college and preparing for the next stage of my life. All my wants and dreams were halted in my senior year of high school. My life , completely altered with the sound of a single gun shot.
Charlie had been called to the scene of a convenience store robbery and made the stupid decision to approach the young suspect. He was trying to convince the boy to give himself up, that there was nothing he could do. Obviously, the boy thought different. He pulled out a gun that had been hidden in the waistband of his pants and aimed. Charlie turned to run, but not fast enough.
After he was shot the left side of his body from the waist up had become paralyzed. He developed PTSD and began drinking heavily to 'help' it. Soon after, he was forced into early retirement. Charlie's small pension didn't even cover half of our monthly expenses. I dropped out of high school and got my GED so I could work full time. We were just managing to get by up until a couple of years ago.
Renee and Phil were killed in a car accident and since Phil had no family I was left with every expense related to death. Charlie went over the deep end after the double funeral. He stopped telling me when he received his check; just cashing it and immediately heading to the bar. Charlie had gone from being a well respected town sheriff to being just another local drunk. A drunk that I am supporting. I work two jobs to make sure he is taken care of and have never gotten so much as a thank you.
As I sat, stewing in my resentment, a couple of girls came out on their cigarette breaks. Among them was Jessica Stanley. She is the one that introduced me to the illustrious world of phone sex. You know all those ads in the Sunday paper for 'phone actress'? Yeah, that's me. Jessica and I had gone to Forks High together, but were never close She had always seemed to love attention, where as I shied away from it. We ran into one another about a year ago at my day job at The Cobblestone Café. Having literally no social life I was excited to be able to speak with someone that I once knew; even Jessica.
After a few months of watching me struggle through daily life she told me about her job as an 'operator' at Pulse and offered to get me an interview. It took her another couple of months to actually convince me to go to it. The only reason I agreed was because our home was being threatened with foreclosure. I was on the precipice of ruin and had nowhere else to turn.
When I first began I hated it. I blushed nonstop for months and still find my face going up in flames at times even now. The only thing that keeps me coming back is the money. There is no way to keep up with the bills without it.
Jessica flounced down on the bench next to me and lit a cigarette before speaking to me.
"How's your night going, Sadie?" she asked, blowing out a puff of smoke.
At Pulse, no one went by their real names. I only knew a handful of the other girls real names and didn't really mind it. We all went by our 'actress names'. We each played different parts under a few different accents, backgrounds, looks and names, so we all used the first name on our list when referring to each other. Mine, was Sadie. The character was a blonde co-ed sitting in her dorm room looking for some fun. The all american girl, the one that giggles at stupid jokes and rarely has a deep thought in her shallow little mind. She's innocent, yet dirty. Yeah, what a crock.
I'm a terrible liar and it took a lot of practice for me sound convincing. Phone sex is like acting or selling a product. If you believe it, they believe it. Honestly, I think the only reason they kept working with me instead of simply letting me go was because of my voice. My boss said the deep quality of it was sensuous and quite rare.
"Fine, Jody. Got a couple of my dom and Sadie regulars. No real creeps, but the night is still young. You?" Jessica immediately got a look on her face like she wanted to punch something and I knew it was bad.
"It was fine up until my last call. The pervert weaseled his way through screening. He wanted me to be a school girl. Like, a twelve year old school girl. I reported him to the screeners and they assured me they would call in a tip to the cops in his area. They have his credit card info so it won't be hard to find him." She was disgusted, and so was I.
Every caller was put through a short screening process after their credit card information was collected. To the guy, it seemed like we were asking their preferences; but really, the fronters are making sure no weirdos are passed to the operators. Unfortunately, the process wasn't fool proof.
"Alright, enough with the heavy stuff. I got offers for a diamond necklace and a plane ticket to Hawaii. How about you?" she asked with some enthusiasm.
This was a game some of the girls liked to play on breaks. Offers of a better life came often in our line of work. We were not allowed to accept them, take any personal information or give the guys any of ours. Not that I would ever want to. But, some of these types of offers are very tempting to some of the girls. Who wouldn't want to live in the lap of luxury? I always kept it in my mind that the majority of these men were lying about their looks and financial capabilities just as much as we were. When nearly every man you speak to claims they are gorgeous and rich you tend to not believe it. But hey, I'm not a blonde co-ed either.
"My own apartment in New York, a weekend in Vegas and a marriage proposal."
"Damn! You must be on fire tonight!" Jess was always supportive because she knew I hated the job. I had read a lot of kinky stories online and practiced in the mirror to get the confidence to even give a decent interview. After two days of training, a couple test calls and a lot of blushes, I was put on the floor. It took me a lot of courage to sit in a cubicle with other girls on each side of me as I moaned and cursed into my headset.
Anyone who hasn't done this type of work before seems to think phone sex operators stay at home in bed while chatting up these guys. I wish that were the case. I would probably do a better job if I wasn't constantly aware of the people that surrounded me or the knowledge that one of my superiors could be listening in so they can give me 'tips' later. The first time my boss approached me with 'tips' after listening in, I was thoroughly embarrassed. I was completely unaware I had been being monitored and it made me feel exposed. Which really isn't a reaction you can afford to have in this line of work.
Over the months I had gotten better at separating myself from my surroundings while on a call. I concentrated on visualizing the fantasy I was creating for the guy instead. I became a lot better at the job after I was able to master that. The managers even had a couple of newbies listen in on my calls to acclimate themselves with the job and learn what was expected of them. I was proud that they thought I was good enough to be an example, but there was always that underlying feeling of disgust with myself.
After months, I still detested what I had been reduced to just as much as I did on day one. I felt like a whore, and I wasn't the only one. A lot of the girls had no other options, just like me.
I checked my cell phone and realized my break was over. I only had two more hours until my shift ended, then I could go home.
"I have to get inside. Am I giving you a ride home?" I asked Jessica as I punched in the access code on the door.
"Nope, I'm putting in some overtime tonight. My rent's due next week and I'm short."
"Kay, I'll see you tomorrow then." Jess, or Jody and I; usually carpooled nightly since we both commuted from Forks to Port Angeles. She would throw me some gas money which was always appreciated since my truck was a total gas hog. We had been taking her old Nissan Sentra up until last week when it died. The mechanic said it would cost more to fix than it's worth so she junked it and was now relying on me for transportation. I had replaced the engine the previous year so that the beast would survive awhile longer. I had given up a lot over the past four years, but I refused to give up my baby.
As I walked past the security guard that buzzed in the girls that were arriving for their shifts I gave him a small wave. Just getting in the building was ridiculous. You had to first use your code to get past the front gate, another code to get into the small holding room, flash your ID card at the camera to get buzzed in, then swipe the card at the front desk to clock in for your shift. Like I said before, it was all for our safety. But safety or not, it made getting to your desk and logging into your computer on time a real task.
The security guard's name was Ben, and I had seen him in action on a few occasions. He easily scared off any angry boyfriends or creepy men that would somehow manage to get past the gate. Regardless of the fact that there was no name on our building and we were required to sign a confidentiality agreement, there were always those pissed off ex-employees that opened their mouths.
Ben was well built from two years in the army and fiercely protective of the girls. I had hung out with him and a couple of the girls outside work before and realized that he was just as protective of us outside of work as in. He was dating Angela, a quiet girl that no one would ever guess was one of our best dominatrix's. As the saying goes, it's always the quiet ones.
I took a seat at my half cubicle between Coleen and Mistress Tina, whose real names were Victoria and Jane. They were good friends and had two of the most disturbing personalities I had ever encountered. I hated that I had to be sandwiched between them. The cream filling in their Oreo of creepiness.
Jane was a straight up bitch and Victoria was constantly hitting on me. My first day on the job I was unwillingly subjected to being shown Victoria's new nipple ring. It was hot pink with the words 'Suck It' printed on it. She was looking to get me in bed with her and her boyfriend, James. I had met him once when he had dropped her off before work. Just his smirk gave me goosebumps; and not in a good way.
"So, Sadie…" Victoria purred after ending her call. "What are you doing Friday night? I saw on the board you have off and thought we could check out that new club in Seattle."
Her cat-like eyes narrowed in a seductive way that made me want to punch her in the face. How many times did I have to tell her I wasn't interested?
"Sorry, I'm busy." I said before quickly turning to my computer and logging into the calling system. I put on my headset, effectively ending the conversation. A box popped up on my screen immediately. These were the notes on the customer that the screener had collected. He had requested me by name which meant he wasn't a first timer and liked my style.
Requested: Mistress Amber
Likes: Spanking, degrading, bad boy scene.
Dislikes: Bodily fluid play.
Name: John McClane
Ah, my Die Hard fan boy. John is a devoted submissive with no current master. He was one of my regulars.
I opened my binder to the J's; a lot of the guys didn't give last names. I always took notes on my regulars and any guy that said they would be requesting me next time they called. If they thought I actually remembered details about them, they felt important and were more likely to call back.
I pressed the connect button and heard the beep which signaled that we were both on the line together.
"Hi there, Jonny boy. Did you miss me?" I asked in a seductive voice.
John knew the game. He would only address me as Mistress and would do exactly as I instructed during the call. Of course, I allowed him to voice if I was treading too close to his limits. I also allowed him to tell me what he wanted, although he never did unless I commanded him to.
"Oh yes, Mistress," John replied in a deep timber. As if he were the seducer.
I would have to turn the conversation around quickly if I wanted to keep him on the line for more than ten minutes. John liked to test me in hopes of punishment. It was the entire reason he called. But since he was wanting to get right into it I couldn't exactly start up a random conversation, so gave him the opportunity to get what he wanted.
"Have you been a good boy since we spoke last, John? Have you been complying to my wishes?" I asked in a firm yet loving tone, as if I was speaking to a child.
Silence…
"John, have you disappointed me again?"
More silence…
I was beginning to worry that he had hung up, but the screen read that the line was still connected and the clock was still running. It was time to get stern.
"Answer me, John!" I growled.
"Yes, Mistress! I'm sorry, Mistress. I have disappointed you again." He sounded truly repentant, but I knew he was already getting excited at the prospect of my response.
"Worthless. I don't know why I waste my time on you. Do you enjoy making me angry, worm?" I asked, my voice lowering in false anger.
"No, Mistress." Yes, you do.
"What have you done? How could you possibly have disappointed me more than in the past?"
John relished being talked down to.
"I… I touched myself without your permission, Mistress," John admitted in a small voice.
"Did I, or did I not, instruct you to refrain from self pleasure until we spoke again?" I asked, my voice growing more fierce by the moment.
"You did, Mistress. I am so sorry, but I-"
"Are you trying to give excuses for your behavior now? Insolent little prick! Get the paddle, John. The leather one."
John was equipped with many toys. Some for pain, some for pleasure; but all useful. There was only so much I could do with household items when it came to punishments. I actually enjoyed the guys who called in for a session with Mistress Amber. I didn't have to fake moan or fake orgasm very much with them. Also, I was able to get angry and call the self-deprecating guys names. I wanted to call them all names and let them know what I really thought of them. But I couldn't, so I was usually fine with taking dominatrix calls.
"I have it, Mistress." John was unable to hide the enthusiasm in his voice, but I didn't care.
"Ten lashes, John. Maybe this will teach you to disobey me. Though, I doubt it will. Lowly dog that you are."
I then instructed him to give ten light slaps to his semi-erect dick, which was most likely quite small. The sting of the leather turned him on. It was merely a precursor to my demeaning him further until he finally cried and came. I suspected major mother issues.
After a couple of quick comers I only had twenty minutes left on my shift. I was exhausted and really didn't want to take anymore calls, but I was paid by the minute while on a call and there was no point in being stuck here and not being paid for it. After all, I should be compensated for my humiliation. Right?
Before I knew it a new box had popped up on my computer screen.
Requested: None
Likes:
Dislikes:
Name: Anthony