Racism Fetish… or would having a thing for racism be a kink….? Hmmmm

Well on that note why don’t we start of with some time with the Dictionary.

Fetish: Something, such as an object or a nonsexual part of the body, that arouses sexual desire and may become necessary for sexual gratification.

Kink: Peculiarity or deviation in sexual behavior or taste

Okay, well then I guess this mans ‘thing’ for racism is a kink.

And how does that sit with me. Well the call is over. As always you never know what the guy is going to ask for once you get one the phone with him and the next thing you know you are hanging up, slightly more discussed with yourself and questioning what impact you have made here (if any, hopefully nothing more than an orgasm). My big fear is that they take this stuff and it gets to be a more intense and a more intense ‘thing’ for them that phone sex can’t satisfy anymore and they have to take it to the real world.

So, tonight’s guy…. I’ll call him Mr. Pedophile Racist Rapist (Mr. PRR) for short. Well, in interest in keeping it short (like I hope his penis is, I hope it is so short he is physically incapable of fucking anyone), he played out a fun scene were I was his accomplice in capturing and raping a 13 year old, “N* Slut.” for Mr. PRR to brutally rape, while I held her down, that made my pussy just fucking “dripping wet” by the way (or bone dry, you know whatever).

Our society has put a lot of power in the N word. See even now when I am not quoting Mr. PRR I don’t like to type it, I don’t like to say it. And even when I knew I was just doing a job and playing pretend for this man and doing what he asked me to do, when he asked me to call her that… I felt really really wrong. It felt wrong to call this imaginary person the N word. And I felt scared that a neighbor could here me through the walls or something. I don’t know if it has helped things that we have put that much power in that word. Maybe you can’t compare it (one, maybe I can’t compare it because I identify as Queer and so potentially bias) but I don’t think we have put that much power into Fag and I think that we are better for it. I don’t know…

Anyway, I think it is interesting. I think there are a few things that I would even be ashamed to admit to an anonymous person on the other end of the phone. Or at least feel bad to. I don’t know what you are about to want to get off to, and this is my job. I think if I was one of these guys I would feel like I was subjecting these woman unfairly to something they don’t want. It’s verbal rape because you don’t want it, but it is not at all rape because (even thought you don’t want it) you are agreeing to it, and at any moment can quit, you can just hang up.

So may different kings of “things” people can have. Like that 1st rule of the internet thing, “if you can think of it, someone has fetishized it.”

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The fictional play is based on a blog I wrote while working as a phone sex operator and I did that job over 15 years ago.

The blog you’re looking now.

Even then friends thought phone sex was kind of light and fluffy – how can there be any money in that? It already seemed old fashioned. A friend told me, he assumed I must have been lying and just didn’t want to admit that I was camming. I think that says more about what he was googling than where the money is in online sex work. 

I wasn’t lying and it wasn’t light and fluffy. You might assume now – 15 years later – phone sex… NOW it must be old fashioned. It must be a thing of the past like your  landline – the things that people wanted to talk about then they still want to talk about now. They are the things that often (hopefully) the closest you get to them are only in your mind. 

The blog was bad. It is bad… I’m cringing while rereading it now.

It was anonymous. My daily views were like zero to two. I sent it to a couple of friends who just expressed their concern for me and how they read some of it, but they weren’t able to keep reading it. 

One day, my phone was going a little berserk, and I was getting notification after notification. I freaked out. I went online and I saw that a more popular blog had found mine and reblogged it and in less than 24 hours it had been viewed like over 10K times. I logged on and I made it private so that no one could look at it. I know 10K doesn’t seem viral by today’s standards… I mean, I posted my mom on Tiktok and she got over 8 million – but it was different then and at the time, 10K in a day was way too much. Why put something online, if all you do once people look at it is hide it? I wrote quickly and badly. And I was writing honestly… and honestly… I…