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     | |      c   o   m   m   u   n   i   c   a   t   i   o   n   s     | |
     | |________________________________________________________________| |

  ...presents...    Wackers: The Secret Life of a 'Fantasy Maker'
                                                         by Isis

             __///////\ -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc- /\\\\\\\__
               \\\\\\\/  Everything You Need Since 1986  \///////
  ___    _   _    ___     _   _    ___       _   _      ___    _   _      ___

"Love's greatest deceit is that, replacing the real woman, it makes us toy
with a doll that lives in our brain: the only woman we have ever at hand and
the only woman we can ever truly posess.  Gradually, to our sorrow, we force
the real woman to conform to this artificial creation."
                                 -- Marcel Proust,
                              _Remembrance of Things Past_

                          "Virtue is vice, and vice is virtue."
                                 -- Marquis de Sade


There I was handcuffed to the bar in a popular bondage club when some guy came 
up to me and asked if I would be interested in a job.  I was expecting him to 
ask to be beaten, and I just wasn't in the mood.  He asked me if I wanted a 
drink and I said, "Sure."  He proceeded to tell me about this dream that he 
had of owning a phone sex company that would be entirely run by women, with 
him just basically sitting at home and watching the money roll in.  At this 
point in time he had the space and some office help but was looking for women 
to be 'fantasy makers.'  I had never done this before and was starting to get 
enthused by the idea: I could work from home, whenever I wanted to, and didn't 
have to deal with a boss standing behind me watching my every move.  I took 
the business card he offered and decided to call him the next day to check out 
the space where the company was situated.  I wanted to make sure that this was 
a legitimate business and he wasn't some sleazy bastard trying to get laid.
     The next day I went to the warehouse and met the women who directed calls 
through to the 'fantasy makers.' They were all very nice and instantly I felt 
that this was going to be a perfect job for me.  Now three years later I still 
work for this company and several others besides.

     Before I could start working I had to learn about the different types of 
calls I would be getting, how to make the different calls, billing and so 


There are two different ways to begin a fantasy call.  Either the caller gets 
transferred to my phone via the office, or I have to make a non-published 
collect call to the actual wacker (a guy wanting phone sex) -- non-published 
so that my phone number doesn't appear on their phone bill.  By the way, 
fantasy makers do not know the phone number that the wacker calls to reach us;
the company keeps that information from us.  So we also do not know the amount
that the company is charging the wacker for the privilege of talking with us.
     Most of the time a wacker will call the office I work for and ask for a 
certain type of woman: for instance, blonde, tall, small-breasted and into 
group sex.  Then the girls at the office will go through the lists of fantasy 
makers working at the time and look at their charts to see if any fantasy 
maker matches the caller's requirements.  If no-one working at the time 
matches the requirements, the office girls call whomever they think can act 
the part just as well.  So I would say that most of the time a wacker does not 
get a girl who embodies his fantasy image.


I keep track of the length of each call and at the end of the call I record 
the time I spent and how much I earned in an invoice.  I get paid more if the 
wacker requested me by name, or by physical requirements or if the call was 
made in premium time -- midnight to 6 AM.  I earn 30 dollars for the first 15 
minutes then 10 dollars for each subsequent minute of overtime.  After each 
call, I call the office and tell them how many minutes or hours of overtime I 
have and the amount of the invoice.  They then give me a code to record on the 
invoice for that particular call.  They do this to make sure that they and the 
wackers don't get ripped off by girls claiming more overtime than actually 
occurred.  So everything is documented at the office and on my end.  Once I 
have earned enough money to satisfy my needs, I send the invoice to the 
office.  They check it against their records and send me a check within seven 
working days.  It would be easier if they just sent me a check based on their 
own records, but I think they want you to send in your own invoice so that if 
you make any mistakes, they aren't accountable for it.  If you forget to 
invoice a wacker, they won't pay you for it, even though they have a record of 
the call.  So unless you're meticulous about your accounting, it's very easy 
to get, um, screwed.
     As a fantasy maker I have the right to refuse any wacker's call.  But 
most of the time I'll accept a call because the money is always good no matter 
who it comes from.  Once I agree to accept the call, the office girl will tell 
me his name and for how long I can talk to him.  A first time caller is 
allowed fifteen minutes straight and ten minutes of overtime.  But regulars 
are usually allowed as much overtime as they want.  And as I said, you get a 
bonus if a wacker specifically requests you by name or by features. 


The first step to becoming a fantasy maker is to choose a fantasy name.  I 
found it difficult to find a name that wasn't already being used.  After six 
tries I finally settled on Juliette, chosen from the Marquis de Sade novel of 
the same name (subtitled "The Prosperities of Vice") which I had read 
recently.  I thought that very apropos and hoped it would augur well for me.
     When it comes to learning to be a fantasy maker, you don't get any 
preparation for it; you're just supposed to figure it out yourself.  That is 
how they separate the good fantasy makers from the bad.  In fact, the office 
secretly maintains lists in which the fantasy workers are categorized.  If you 
are an OK phone sex girl, you are on the B list; excellent, you're on the A 
list; and terrible lands you an entry on the C list.  Girls on the C list 
hardly ever get calls except on the busiest nights; if there's no-one else to 
take a call, an unfortunate wacker will often get directed to a C list girl.  
Most C list girls soon quit, however, because they don't earn enough money to 
make it worthwhile for them.  Obviously we're not supposed to know about the 
existence of the lists, and certainly not which list we're on.  But, through a 
friend in the office, I know who's on which lists.

     When getting into this job I knew that I would have to deal with some 
strange shit.  But I was confident I could handle it.  I've lived a very 
interesting life, and I thought I had heard it all, seen it all, etc.  
However, three years later I still get some wackers who freak me out.
     Nothing could have prepared me for my first call.  I must also point out 
at this time that I had never before had phone sex with a boyfriend, much less 
a stranger, so I was pretty nervous.


Phil was my first wacker ever.  And I will never forget him.  Many times he 
has asked to speak to me again but I have always refused.  He is the only 
person on my banned list and for good reason.  
     He wanted me to be 17, tall, blonde, have small tits and green eyes.  The 
office girl told me that he wasn't into anything kinky so I should just have 
fun with him.  Well, they were wrong.  We start talking and I explain to him 
that this is my first call ever; being an experienced wacker, I thought he 
might enjoy my being a "virgin."
     Halfway through the call my puppy starts barking.  I try to quiet her, 
but no such luck.  Phil hears her barking and says, "Is that your dog?" I 
reply, "No, I don't have a dog."  But her barking was so loud that there was 
no getting out of it.  At this point I'm thinking please, don't ask me to have 
sex with the dog!  Especially not my first call!  I didn't want to say no to 
him because he was a valued customer at the company and I was new.  I didn't 
want to pretend to have sex with my dog, either.  I mean I have to live with 
this puppy, see her everyday.  It's not like she'll give me her phone number 
and I can call her back tomorrow if I want more.  (Just kidding.)  I didn't 
want to do a bestiality call at all.  So I decided to ignore that part of his 
request and just continue with the conversation.  However, he kept 
interjecting, "So how about that dog...?"  Well, finally I convince him to 
fantasize about _me_ being the dog and him fucking me as the dog.  My first 
call ever lasted almost three hours and consisted of me barking and whining 
for the latter two hours.  That's a little over $200.  I was excited about the 
money I had earned but depressed that it would be a lot harder to earn than I 
thought.  I told the office after the call what had happened.  They apologized 
and said that that would probably be the worst call I'd ever have to do.  Once 
again they were wrong. 
     Over the course of three years I have had some really bizarre calls... 
and some really boring ones, too.  So I'll keep the boring stuff to myself, 
and just give you a few of the wacked out stories.  Here are some of the 
callers I've had.


Michael is a regular client.  He calls almost everytime I work.  His trip is 
Van Halen.  He loves Van Halen.  We never talk about sex; instead, our 
conversations are always about his favorite band.  At first I thought this was 
great: I don't have to sit there and moan and groan about something that I'm 
really not doing or enjoying.  But for three years I've heard about Van Halen 
three times a week!  What more could there be to know about Van Halen?!  
Michael tells me about his family and friends, who are all completely into Van 
Halen.  He chooses his friends from concerts he's been to and so forth.  He 
hasn't had a steady girlfriend because none of them can tolerate his adoration 
for the band.  When I suggested to him that he find a girl at a concert, he 
was completely against that idea, because in his mind he would have to fight 
with her constantly to show who was more of a fan.  So he talks to me instead.  
Not only does he talk to me, but he also talks to other girls who work for the 
company.  When I ask them what he talks about, they all say Van Halen.  Well, 
at least he's a consistent wacker.  His friends have a pact between them: to 
stay in the mix, and to maintain their Van Halen fan status they must come up 
with a new Van Halen joke a day.  I find this very bizarre.  When I tell him 
that this is a strange way to conduct a friendship, he replies with, "It's the 
only way that it works for me."  Well, whatever Michael.  For some reason it 
does not surprise me in the least that he is a lawyer from Michigan.


Peter is a pretty typical wacker.  His fantasy is quite common.  He wants me 
to be his 50 year-old mother, blonde, 5'3", and with exorbitantly large 
breasts.  We're talking 38-DDDs here.  What is unusual about this guy is the 
fact that his fantasy never changes.  Most wackers have the same type of 
fantasy for each call but the scenario is somewhat different everytime.  They 
like a little creativity.  However Peter wants to relive the same scene each 
time.  His call status is about twice a week for an hour or so.  
     In his fantasy, I am his mother, in the bathtub, with the door slightly 
ajar (of course).  He supposedly doesn't know I'm in the bath and he 
accidentally walks in to go pee or whatever.  Now in real life when this 
happened, his mother told him to get out.  But in the fantasy he wants me to 
invite him in instead.  So it progresses to him getting in the bathtub with me 
and Mummy is asking him to rub her back and soap her shoulders, etc.  You can 
imagine where this is going, so I'll leave the rest to you.  The more times 
you can call him Son, or yourself Mummy, the harder he wacks it.  This kind of 
call is very formulaic, involving the repetition of key words that the wacker 
loves hearing.  It's up to the skilled fantasy maker to divine what those key 
words are.
     Peter stands out in my mind as the most bizarre incest fantasy caller 
because of how emotional he gets about it.  If I take too long to reach the 
conclusion, or tease him, he'll start sobbing, saying that I'm supposed to 
love him because I'm his mother.  He really gets into his fantasy.  Whereas 
other wackers' Mother-Son fantasies aren't that serious, aren't based on 
anything factual from their past. 


I don't remember this particular wacker's name.  I think I've only spoken to 
him once.  His fantasy centered around his fascination with frogs and death. 
He wanted me to create a scene for him of hundreds of frogs leaping around my 
floor and I was supposed to kill them all in different ways, with precise 
details for each kill.  So I burned a bunch of them, flushed some, cooked 
some, blended some in a blender, and even sat on one...everything possible you 
could do to kill a frog.  But the wacker was not about to get off the phone 
and I was really bored by this time.  So finally I asked him what I should do 
to the last frog.  Excitedly, he replied, "Finish him off!"  Well, I finished 
him off alright.  I squashed the little fucker flat into the ground.  
Unbeknownst to me that was what he had been waiting for all along.  Nothing 
like a foot fetish and a frog fetish.  In heated words punctuated with 
guttural noises, he informed me of his immense pleasure, and that was it.  
Four hundred dollars for me and a satisfied wacker.  But I will never think 
the same way about frogs again.


Now comes the part where I tell you what it's like to be a phone sex girl.  A 
lot of people think it's a cool job, and I do get funny stories out of it.  
But there's also a downside for me.  Having to talk about sex with people I 
don't know or who are straight-up assholes is not fun.  Many fantasy calls 
involve a lot of incest, rape and other topics that I am one hundred percent 
not interested in.  So creating fantasies -- someone else's fantasy -- around 
these things can be difficult because I have to sound convincingly enthused.  
Also it's really hard for me to fake an orgasm, and doing that several times a 
day can be taxing.
     A job that involves deception necessarily engenders mistrust.  My 
relationships with men who I am friends with has not been affected by my 
occupation, as far as I know.  But I'm hesitant to tell new people I meet what 
I do for a living, out of fear that they will automatically make assumptions 
about the kind of person I am without really getting to know me first.  On the 
other hand, it's hard for me to shake the feeling that any new guy I meet 
isn't just another wacker.  This is a serious downfall.  There are people I 
have met who may have been really good people, but because of my work and the 
way I feel about men who are strangers, I have dismissed them unfairly.
     I cannot tell my family what I do -- and this is a source of great 
tension in my life.  I can't claim to work anywhere specific, either -- that 
lie would be too easily uncovered.  So as far as my family is concerned, I'm a 
medical transcriptionist who works from home -- a credible story since I have 
done medical transcription in the past.
     But enough bitching!  There are some really cool things about my job: I 
can work from home whenever I want to, and of course, the money is good.  When 
I first started working, I could earn a few hundred dollars a week.  Nowadays, 
I can earn more than a thousand dollars a week if I want to.  I'm on the A 
list, which means I get more calls than I once did.  And there is nobody 
looking over my shoulder, although the exhibitionist in me sometimes wishes 
there were!

     It's 3:00 and the phone is ringing, right on time.  I'll have to end this 
file, otherwise I might miss my Van Halen wacker, and that would be a damn 
shame.  There would be no new joke of the day for me...

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