Monetizing Sex

Scarletbegonia

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I’m conflicted on sex work, specifically that involving actual touching someone sex.

but I saw this

And I’m thinking, a lot. And wondering where those soda bottles are that should be in recycling.

what are your views on virtual sex work (online, phone acting, not in the same space)?
 

rtg

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Hmm well the fact that she doesn’t even take her clothes off makes me much less adverse to this than online sex work involving “performing” on those sex webcam sites.

I reckon I could probably actually do what she does. But just don’t think I would.
 

Scarletbegonia

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My paranoid privacy brain thought I’d hire a model for photos, etc....
A much younger model.
My week in a phone acting gig in a house-as-office, showed me the trope was true...our most requested “actress” was a 42 yo gay guy who did a perfect feminine voice. He was “Mona.” He was north of 300 sloppy pounds and smoked like a chimney. Had bad teeth and cystic acne and loved Cheetos.
 
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That is an entertaining channel. Thanks for the share.
 
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AlteredEgo

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None of the places I worked would hire men. They just didn't get an interview/test call. The last place I worked for did hire a trans man, but they didn't know. I got him that job hoping he would stop mooching off my close friend. He had not changed his government documents, and could still force a very sweet, pretty feminine voice.

Ultimately, he hated himself for feminizing himself. I think he hated me too. I gave him my best client. He called every single day for at least two hours. When I wasn't on the schedule, he'd book an appointment in advance to be able to reach me on my days off. I told my acquaintance I had good client for him, but he needed to have a menstrual cycle to maximize the opportunity. That dude would pay $100 for a pair of urine soaked panties. He'd pay a lot more for menses stains and even more for extreme abuses of the fabric. I think he hated himself, and me, for monetizing the most biologically female aspect of his life. I just wanted to help a dude pay some bills. I didn't realize it would be harmful to him.

I rather enjoyed most aspects of that job. It was easy, and paid very well for a long time, while tried to figure out who I wanted to be.
 

Scarletbegonia

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None of the places I worked would hire men. They just didn't get an interview/test call. The last place I worked for did hire a trans man, but they didn't know. I got him that job hoping he would stop mooching off my close friend. He had not changed his government documents, and could still force a very sweet, pretty feminine voice.

Ultimately, he hated himself for feminizing himself. I think he hated me too. I gave him my best client. He called every single day for at least two hours. When I wasn't on the schedule, he'd book an appointment in advance to be able to reach me on my days off. I told my acquaintance I had good client for him, but he needed to have a menstrual cycle to maximize the opportunity. That dude would pay $100 for a pair of urine soaked panties. He'd pay a lot more for menses stains and even more for extreme abuses of the fabric. I think he hated himself, and me, for monetizing the most biologically female aspect of his life. I just wanted to help a dude pay some bills. I didn't realize it would be harmful to him.

I rather enjoyed most aspects of that job. It was easy, and paid very well for a long time, while tried to figure out who I wanted to be.

we were all about how it sounded, just like a political phone bank. One cannot sound non Ohio white.
It was early, I think 87, so likely a 900 line.
 

AlteredEgo

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we were all about how it sounded, just like a political phone bank. One cannot sound non Ohio white.
It was early, I think 87, so likely a 900 line.
The last woman I worked for was especially like that. To get hired, I left a message. For some reason she didn't hire me the first time we spoke. The second time I called her back a few months later, we had a longer interview and she hired me. When I emailed her copies of my ID and social, she seemed surprised I was not white. She gently made it clear that I had to play a white character. She was almost apologetic. I laughed. I had been at several companies and had even worked independently for a while. I already knew blackness was a niche specialty that had fewer clients and required an exaggeration of my Bronx accent. Also, I hated those clients when I worked for larger companies that had me playing whatever role appeared on my screen. Not my first time at the rodeo. I often wonder what she thought about the fact that she almost didn't hire me, and I turned out to be her top performer. We made a whole lot of money together for a while. I quit several years ago, and clients still kept trying to get me as recently as this year.

That industry is dead though. She once told me new hires always generated excitement and got lots of calls but that it usually leveled off in a few months. Instead, I remained in high demand for years. It was the long hold times. Getting individual clients to stay on the phone from the beginning of my shift to well after it ended meant that callers who wantef to try a session with my character might not get an opportunity for months or years. Desperate, they would sometimes call through before or after my scheduled availability, knowing the line might be connected. I would tell them slick the fuck off. I should not have done so for free, but I have boundaries. It was a domination line, so it just left them eager for a real session. Eventually, the only way to guarantee a session was to book it in advance, and that was very expensive. It doubled the price. And they paid.

But now? A lot of those wealthier men were old, and they died. A lot of the rest learned to prefer one on one with a cam performer. Some of them hit economic hardship. If I agreed to a limited run of availability, there would be a stampede day one, and after that I would be lucky to see for the entire rest of the week thirty percent of what I made in a day back when.

One of many reasons I allowed myself to be pushed out of the first receiver beaver gig I had (Did you know there could be office politics at the spank bank?) was that I saw something a lot of other women missed. I was surrounded by huge women. Gabourey Sidibe worked there by the time I was leaving, though I believe I knew her as Gabby S. Most of the world now knows her as Precious. I lost a lot of weight while I was working there because that scared me. Another woman whom I liked very much, looked like she had two asses, one atop the other. I had already been as fat as I was prepared to tolerate. My parents died young from lifestyle choices. I'm terrified of getting too fat. I asked for a vending machine with healthy choices. Food with food in it. Some of us launched a petition. We all signed it. Word from above was they heard us, and would add a new vending machine to the alcove we all went to for snacks. They did. It sold ice cream. I realized they wanted us fat and insecure.

So, when I realized a jealous co-worker was making it look like I did not maintain the porn and kink library it was part of my job (and hers) to curate and organize, I let her undermine me. Why quit when I can make them give me unemployment? I spent autumn and winter on wild road trips, then found the first of several companies that let me work from home.

The only thing I ever missed from that first company was that there were trainers listening in. If you had an emotionally or psychologically challenging caller, they logged you out after and cheered you up. Those calls are few and far between, bit there are some seriously fucked up people out there.
 

Scarletbegonia

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I was the voice screener for the political phone bank.
I had a handful of sounds or words that I knew would be “problematic” for the big client.
Only one stays with me, because I’ve puzzled over how it came to be...”aks” for ask.
No other consonant flip is so pervasive.

One had to sound white enough, not have a strong regional accent (and my phone bank was in South Carolina, I’d started with the company in Texas, and the owner was a Goldberg from NYC -we had regional. Other locations were scattered across the south)
I’m fairly convinced I was hired because of a lack of Texas accent. I had enough of the accent of the woman my mom hired, theoretically to help with my profoundly disabled brother, but who talked so much with me that I have lashings of western Canada in my accent. To southern ears, I sounded like a news reader. And I enunciated clearly.

one also had to sound uninvolved. During a campaign for the cattlemen's association, I had to hide the repulsion I felt at the industry.

the kicker? Of 709 phones on the floor at a time, I’d say the workforce was 80 percent black.