When people find out I’m a phone sex operator they often ask me what call was my worst. I respond with “I once had a call that gave me a nightmare.”
I had been an operator for a few years so had already heard plenty of bizarre things. This client though freaked me out. I’ll call him Worst Caller.
The call started out pretty normal. WC was nice enough and it was a standard sex call. Then he turned it into a kidnap/rape fantasy where we kidnapped a neighbor and kept her in the basement. I don’t like doing rape fantasies but they’re easy enough. Typically the rape victim is the guy I’m talking to and he loves being the slut in the end.
WC then changed the fantasy. He started talking about how he wanted to be violent towards the woman. Suddenly he was describing the most disgusting, violent acts. I don’t want to write the details of it but it sounded like a scene from a horror movie.
This maybe lasted five, ten minutes. But it felt much longer. The creepiness factor was amped up by WC’s cheery voice and his moans. He would tell me some violent detail and then in his chipper voice say “oh yeah” before moaning.
I was stunned into silence. My mouth had dropped open and I just sat frozen in place. “This is not happening,” I kept telling myself. It was just too disturbing. I knew I had to stop the call but I couldn’t find my voice.
He was talking about using knives on different parts of the body when I was finally able to speak. It was more like a squeak. WC said, “Oh. You know, you don’t seem that into this.”
“No I’m not,” I said. My voice sounded hoarse though I hadn’t been screaming.
“Well, why don’t you describe giving me a blowjob so I can get off,” WC said.
In a daze I did just that. It was probably a bad fantasy on my part but I felt extremely uncomfortable. WC came and thanked me in his cheery tone.
After the call I did my notes — writing DO NOT TALK TO AGAIN next to his name.
That night I had trouble falling asleep. The call really troubled me. I had had other extreme fantasies but nothing like this one. Even if I don’t understand the fetish I normally can empathize. Not with WC. His fantasy just sickened me.
The nightmare was a version of his fantasy. I woke up in a panic and the typical night sweats. To calm myself I kept saying “it’s not real” over and over. I got up, washed my face and ate a snack to relax. I managed to fall back asleep but felt like shit the next morning.
I updated WC’s notes with “gave me nightmares”. He was the first client that I decided never to talk to again.
WC didn’t call back and I was glad. For the most part I forgot about him. Occasionally when someone would ask about my worse call I would remember WC. Thankfully I didn’t have any more nightmares.
Three years later WC called me. He has a very distinctive voice and I recognized it. Something about it made me tense. Putting him on hold I looked up his name in my notes. Sure enough it was him.
Though I was disgusted by his fantasy I still thought it was his right to have it. But there was no way I was talking to him again. I picked up the phone and told him that we had talked before; he hadn’t remembered.
When I told him I couldn’t do the call WC asked why. I was vague at first, telling him that I found it upsetting. He persisted though and said we could talk about something else. Finally, I was honest. “You’re fantasy gave me nightmares and I don’t think I can handle talking to you again.”
I wasn’t trying to be a bitch although I’m sure it sounded mean. In a little voice WC said “I’m sorry” and hung up. That’s the last I heard of him.
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