Yellow Sundress (For B)
By Tonya Jone Miller | July 27, 2010
I figure that over the span of my phone sex career, I’ve spoken with thousands of men. Some, after relieving themselves with the aid of my services, wander off into that good night, never to be heard from again. But more often than not, first-time callers turn into second-time callers into repeat clients into friends…
Of my first ten callers when I began doing phone sex over six years ago, I am still in contact with six of them. (I’m starting from my tenure at Bay City Blues, not counting the couple of months I was on Niteflirt, as I played an archetypal character for a third-party company there.) Of those six, I still have phone sex with three of them.
Back when I started blogging over on LiveJournal, it was mostly a tool for phone sex promotion. I did a lot of “shout-outs” to my callers, little mini-synopses of calls. But after a while it seemed so redundant. Tiny snippets of porno talk that couldn’t possibly compare to the genuine timbre and tone of our voices, quivering and catching as we whispered our naughty desires. So I stopped doing shout-outs and instead focused on writing about my life off the phone.
I don’t regret it one bit, but every so often I’m struck with the urge to write about calls, both long past and more recent. And I think it’s high time I indulged the craving, so I’m going to share some samples of sexy memories and fantasies that have been haunting me lately…I’ll probably parcel them out slowly, but here’s the first installment…
Yellow Sundress (For B)
We catch each other in the chat room often, sometimes on IM. I know he flirts with all the girls, but something about our chemistry on the telephone convinces me I’m his favorite. He is hard and mean and rough when we talk, calling me all the dirty names that make my cunt quiver. He likes rape fantasies and knows they’re one of my personal fetishes, so he aurally violates me in the most delicious ways.
One day online, I am describing a new purchase to him, this yellow sundress I found at a thrift store for cheap. It’s the kind of dress that makes a girl feel yummy and pretty and naughty and sexy and sweet all at the same time. He obviously picks up on my excitment, because I come home to a sizzling email from him. In it he describes his slight regret at wanting to accost me on my stoop in that dress and rip it from my body, tear it to shreds, and take me right there in the doorway. As you can imagine, I was never able to wear that dress again after that without thinking of him. There are just some people who leave that kind of impression.
Our phone sex relationship lasted for a couple of years, and then he informed me that he was getting married and didn’t think he could continue talking to me. I will interject here that as I’ve said before, I’m the worst phone sex operator in the world in that on some level, I hope my callers will cease to need me. I hope they all find special people in their lives that fulfill their desires and make them happy. But when he told me, I was understandably disappointed. The financial consequences were much less important to me than the fact that I was losing a friend I enjoyed and clicked with on a strangely intimate yet still casual level.
The thing that blows my mind is that I know he still reads my blog. He still checks up on me, comments occasionally, and sends me brief emails of support and encouragement every once in a while. I’ve long since lost the yellow sundress (six years, after all!), but there’s something both humbling and gratifying knowing that he, wherever he is, still remembers. I hope he knows how much I cherish the gift of having shared his life, for however brief a time.
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Gimpy
By Tonya Jone Miller | July 21, 2010
I spent all day Sunday helping a friend move into his new apartment. Then Monday night, we went on an epic shopping trip…Fubonn to stock up on Asian grocieries, and Fred Meyer for random household accesories- cleaning supplies, mixing bowls, etc. We finished unloading everything into his place, said goodnight, and I started downstairs to my car.
It was terribly dark, and somehow I managed to miss the last step. I felt a blinding pain in my left ankle and crumpled onto the cement. Always the tough girl of course, I walked it off, got in my borrowed car, and started home. Every time I had to depress the clutch it sent me into tears. Finally at my place, I hobbled up the outside stairs, crawled up the inside ones, and collapsed onto the couch.
I’ve had my fair share of twists and sprains. I figured I’d RICE it- rest, ice, compression, elevation- and it would be fine in the morning. So I wrapped it up, put an ice pack on it, and slept on the couch with it elevated up resting on the back. Then I woke up at 6am, crying in my sleep from the pain.
Now as most of you know, I’m not a wuss. I’m a freakin’ masochist. I can take some pretty intense pain. But this was not the good kind. I unwrapped my ankle to find it the size of a baseball. I couldn’t put any pressure on it at all. so I called Howard, who is still my best friend and the one person I know I can count on above all others. He took me to the ER at Emanuel Hospital.
Turns out nothing is broken, but I have a severe sprain, about the worst you can have without actually tearing or breaking anything. I have to wear a splint and use crutches for at least two weeks, and I have a follow-up then with an orthopedic surgeon to make sure I’m healing ok and don’t need any kind of surgery. Best prognosis is 4-6 weeks until I’m completely healthy. Sigh.
All I can think about is how lucky I am that I can still do my phone sex work while injured. Laying on my back in bed doesn’t aggravate my ankle. Heh. I mean, most people in this economy don’t have a 6 week financial cushion. This would devastate them. So I’m trying to keep my annoyance and poor-me helplessness to a minimum. My friends are coming through in droves with offers of errands, rides, food, chores, etc. Things could be much worse.
I’m just going to hunker down in my bunker for the next two weeks and pamper myself. Which means I’ll be available quite a bit for phone sex shenanigans…If…you know…that’s your thing… *wink*
Tonya
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I want to ride my bicycle…
By Tonya Jone Miller | July 16, 2010
I went for a bike ride today for the first time in years. A friend of mine has lent me her cruiser indefinitely, and Portland is a very bicycle-friendly town. When I lived in Boulder, CO, for eighth grade, I biked everywhere, but it has been a long time since I’ve had my own wheels. I forgot how good it feels to have the wind in my hair, and I just let myself ride aimlessly around my neighborhood for an hour. Truth be told, I overdid it a bit and I’m sure I’m going to be sore in the morning.
I’m producing a show for Monqui tomorrow, the first one I’ve done in a while, and will be gone all day. Sunday I’m helping a friend move to a new apartment, so I’ll be scarce this weekend…Enjoy the sun and stay hydrated!
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Rope is fun. And decorative!
By Tonya Jone Miller | July 2, 2010
Last night I was a living art model for my friend, Lew Rubens, at his 3-D bondage photo exhibit opening at Club Sesso…
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A Phone Sex Primer
By Tonya Jone Miller | June 29, 2010
Phone sex is a strange beast. In my six-plus years of experience, I’ve come to realize that everybody’s concept of what it is differs. Some callers like to talk as if we’re actually in the room together, describing what we’re doing to each other. To me, this is the most straightforward kind of phone sex:
“I’m bending over the dresser, sticking my ass in the air, watching your dick twitch in the mirror as you slide one hand up my inner thigh.”
Others can’t get past the willing suspension of disbelief. Hearing me say, “I’m licking your balls” when they don’t FEEL it somehow takes them out of the zone. Perhaps it makes the fantasy aspect of phone sex too apparent. In any case, the way around this is to use speculative speech:
“If I was there, I’d love to suck your cock. I’d wrap my lips around it and bob my head up and down until your toes curled.”
A simple adjustment of language makes all the difference.
You’d think that, being an actress, roleplay would be the easiest kind of phone sex for me. And in a way, it is. But again, roleplay can mean many different things to different people. Usually it is a combination of dialogue and description:
Me: “Excuse me, Sir, do you have a moment?”
Caller: “Yes, Miss Miller, how can I help you?”
Me: I slip into your office and you hear the lock click behind me. Your eyes travel down over my nubile, young body, and you can’t help but let your gaze linger on the swell of my pert tits under my slightly too-tight cardigan sweater. “Ms. Connell told me I’m in danger of being suspended from the cheerleading squad because I’m getting a C in your class.”
Caller: “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about that. Rules are rules, and you young lady have to learn that there are consequences to your actions.”
Me: “Isn’t there anything I can do?” I look at you with big, innocent eyes and start to unbutton my sweater…
With a small number of callers, we have such a good rapport, we can actually incorporate the description into the dialogue. This always feels the most organic, and when I close my eyes, I can picture the scene in my head like it’s really happening.
Me: “Mmmm you like it when I stick my ass up in the air like this, don’t you?”
Caller: “God yes, you’re so wet and tight from behind. And I love seeing that little puckered asshole of yours quiver. So tempting…”
Me: “Oooh fuck yes! You know I’m a dirty girl- you know I love it up the butt. Go slow? I want to feel every inch of it slip it into my ass.”
You see? We’ve established that we’re having doggy-style anal sex without really breaking character or slipping out of back-and-forth dialogue. But truthfully, most callers need a little more description for the dialogue to make sense to them, and I’m happy to oblige.
A small number of guys actually send me scripts they want me to follow more or less verbatim. Obviously as an actor I’m comfortable actualizing text, but it makes me wonder how many pso’s the poor guys have to go through to find someone like me who’s capable of pulling it off believably. I mean, trained professional actors fuck up, even after hours of rehearsal. I can’t imagine that Generic Phone Babe #287 would be very effective. But then again, maybe I just set the bar high for myself.
Still other clients barely speak at all and prefer to listen to erotic storytelling. This can be fairly challenging, as it is essentially an extended, improvised, erotic monologue. For those calls, the more details I have in advance, the better. And while they often require more concentration and less masturbation on my part, they are somewhat liberating in that I can go wherever I please within the given parameters of a caller’s fantasy.
People often ask me what I like when it comes to phone sex, but my answer rarely satisfies them. Phone sex is a service. I like being of service; I always have. I like knowing that something I’ve done has made someone else’s life better or even just put a fleeting smile on their face. So what is my fetish? What turns me on? Well, lots of things. Heh. But when it comes to phone sex, I like making my callers happy.
Truly, the content of any call is less important to my enjoyment of it than my clients response and pleasure. I love a man who makes noise, a man who encourages me to get into it and expresses his own excitement. And yes, I realize some of them call from home or work when there’s a chance of getting caught and need to be quiet. That’s hot in its own way.
I like knowing I have the sexual energy and erotic intelligence to figure out what a person wants, and sometimes more importantly, how they want it. It makes me feel powerful, desired, appreciated…
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Maintenance
By Tonya Jone Miller | June 28, 2010
Just a quick note to let you all know that they’re making some upgrades to my phone system today and tomorrow, so you might have some difficulty placing a call to me. If you have any trouble getting through, feel free to email, IM, or call Customer Service if you would like a phone sex call, and we’ll make special arrangements. I apologize in advance for the inconvenience, and thanks for your understanding!
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Inching Back
By Tonya Jone Miller | June 23, 2010
I never know why I stop writing. Sometimes it just happens and then a few weeks or months or whatever later I feel the urge again…I shall resist my natural compulsion to try to get you caught up on every detail of my life the past month, because I’ll just get frustrated. I’ve been busy- let’s leave it at that… *smiles*
Sunday I marched in the gay pride parade with the Portland Leather Alliance contingent. I wore my Naughty Dorothy outfit, which went over well, as you can imagine. Heh. Tons of people were taking pictures, officially and not, so I’ll try to hunt down a couple to post here.
Then yesterday morning I woke at 5am to find my murderous beasts toying with two baby birds on my bedroom floor. The poor things must have fallen out of the nest at a very inopportune moment, and proud hunters that my killers kitties are, they toted them home to show me. *sigh* It was too late to save them. Darwin wins again.
I’ve been shockingly unmotivated lately (obviously lol), but now that it seems summer has finally arrived in Oregon, I’m feeling a bit more productive. Must have needed the Vitamin D desperately…
Going to slip into a sexy summer frock and head down to the munch shortly for a couple of drinks and some socializing, but I’ll be back after 8pm if you’re having a phone sex jones…
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Heh
By Tonya Jone Miller | May 25, 2010
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Food for Thought
By Tonya Jone Miller | May 24, 2010
Ok so I take most adages and moral-of-the-story tales with a grain of salt (to offset the cheesiness), but for some reason this one struck me today…
One evening, an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, “My son, the battle is between two ‘wolves’ inside us all. One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.”
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf wins?”
The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”
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My Mission?
By Tonya Jone Miller | May 14, 2010
I went to go see the final dress rehearsal of the new Inviting Desire on Wednesday night. It was so weird to watch, to be in the audience as opposed to being onstage. In some ways it was bittersweet, but I know I made the right decision for myself in choosing not to be involved in this incarnation of the show.
It’s very entertaining. I laughed almost all the way through it. But I can’t help thinking that may not be a completely good thing. Yes, I believe you shouldn’t take sex too seriously all the time and that it’s important to have a sense of humor. However it’s also important to respect and honor other peoples’ fantasies and fetishes, even if they don’t particularly resonate with you personally.
There were moments in the show when I questioned how someone with the fantasy depicted would feel watching it. As a professional sex worker, I am constantly confronted with my clients’ inner sexual demons. And while the details of a specific fantasy may be very precise, time and again I’m struck by the similarity and universality of my callers’ needs.
Regardless of fantasy or fetish, they want to be accepted, to not be judged. To be seen at what they perceive to be their “lowest” or most vulnerable, and to be loved anyway. It’s something I’m good at- loving, not judging…And it’s not that I don’t recognize that there is evil in the world; I do. But I also believe that most people are simply trying to do the best they can.
Daily I encounter the damage inflicted by shame, guilt, and fear. Quite frankly, I would be out of business if we lived in a sex-positive society that was accepting of alternative sexuality, fetish, and kink. In a way, it makes me the worst phone sex operator ever, because I wish my callers didn’t need me. In a perfect world, they would all have partners in real life who accepted them and indulged their sexual desires.
Every time my phone rings, I am humbled by the chance to share those moments of release and fulfillment. And I make a huge effort to communicate to my phone sex clients that I appreciate and accept them- it is, in a way, my professional mission. Which makes me extremely sensitive when I perceive that anyone’s sexuality is being made the butt of a joke.
So the new Inviting Desire pushed some of my buttons. I have to acknowledge that it was surreal to not be a part of it, even though that was my decision, and that that may be affecting my reaction. I certainly don’t think it was intentional- I know the people involved, and they are honest, authentic, sexy women. There was obviously a lot of hard work that went into the show, and I was impressed and moved by many moments. As a work of theatre, it is fun, bawdy, and entertaining. I hope it is a smashing success.
And I’m glad I get the honor of continuing my own personal crusade for sexual freedom…Viva las perverts! *grins*
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