Seeing that #englishrosiee and I have been running this blog about dating, love and sexy things for over 4 years, I have no idea how it’s happened that I haven’t discussed this chapter of my life with you yet… So here it is: I have worked as a sexter and I have a few things to say about it.
How Did I Become a Sexter?
It may surprise you, but I didn’t spend my childhood dreaming about becoming a sexter one day. In fact, I always dreamt about becoming a writer and the fact that I’m 31 years old and I am yet to publish a novel is very disappointing to me. I have, however, written a novel, which is the first step and now I’m in the process of trying to publish it. Seeing that making my dreams come true was far away when I was 18, I needed to find other ways to make some money during a summer break.
I just matriculated and I had a few months left before the beginning of my university life. I considered waitressing or baby sitting but then a friend of mine, Z. found an ad in a local newspaper. We decided to give it a go. Just like her, I was a young person who “was over 18, wanted to earn GREAT money, typed fast and was available immediately”.
No red flags for the location in the city centre or the office itself but when a skinny man with greasy medium-length hair greeted us, I started to worry a bit. He didn’t beat around the bush and told us during a joint interview that our job would be to textwith clients about sex, send erotic pictures and make them think they can meet the person they were talking to. We were to take on various personas, depending on which of the “available” girls or boys the client chose from the ads placed in various magazines (something along the lines: “Hey! I’m Roxy. I’m a redhead and as they say when the roof is red, the basement is wet. Do you want to hang out?”). The only other rule was to never set up an actual meeting with a client or give them any personal details about ourselves. Of course, there were cautionary tales in the office about the girls who did and ended up in pieces in trash bags but of course, you never knew whether they were true or not.
I definitely went all red when I was listening to the job description. I did have some experience with men but I was still a virgin! Did it make me hesitate? Maybe for a second. The day pay was high and much higher than anything I could have earned from waitressing or any other job at 18 with almost no work experience. The night shift paid double that. I said “yes”. It wasn’t like I was going to actually have sex with these people, I thought.
Tricks of the Trade
I got a pseudonym and people called me “Monika”. It was supposed to make me feel like it wasn’t really me behind the screen (yeah, the screen, you don’t think we were typing on our phones, now, do you?) but made me see that the job was iffy instead. They don’t make you use a pseudonym when you’re a successful lawyer, you know?
My sexting skills weren’t impressive in the beginning. The first nights were tough as there were targets to meet and they wouldn’t keep you for long if you couldn’t do it. Of course, it was stressful for a virgin. All I knew about sex, came from “My First Time” columns in magazines for teenagers and my friends who often had little, no or just imagined experiences themselves. I was rather unprepared for chatting to men who wanted me to tell them how I would like to be “fucked” (what ways were there, anyway?), whether I liked “fisting” (I needed to Google the term) and would ask me to describe how wet my “shell” was (which turned out to be a term for “pussy”).
I didn’t like the job but people in the office made it a bit better. Other employees were mostly students trying to pay their bills.
We would make fun of clients to hide the fact that we actually felt pretty shitty about ourselves. After all, these people were paying money not only for the chance of seeing “our” pictures and sexting with “us” but also for the possibility of eventually meeting the persona we created. We knew it was all a lie and felt particularly bad about the ones that were nice. We drank a lot after hours to kill the guilt pangs about them and forget about how disgusting the job really was. Also, because we were young and illegal drinking in public places in the middle of the night seemed like a lot of fun.
What made the job doable, seeing that at work you had to actually be sober, was that most of the clients weren’t nice at all. I’d say that 60% to 70% of men I dealt with were married and around half of the married ones had a pregnant wife. I had a boyfriend back then who I thought was different than these men but what I read in the text messages changed my perception of the opposite sex for a very long time. These guys, mind you, had no common denominator in terms of education, profession, income, age, the numbers of years they were married or anything else I could pick up. It was natural that I started to think that all men were like that.
It wasn’t just the fact that the were so keen to cheat and pay for some stupid sexts that was bothering me. It was also about their general attitude towards women. They would complain about their wives a lot in a vulgar way (doesn’t even move during sex, became a pig after the wedding etc etc) but also spoke to me (who was allegedly so much better than the wife) in a way that made me feel like a worthless object.
I just kept repeating to myself that it wasn’t really me but Monika who was chatting to them. It was particularly difficult to believe when they called me names after I postponed yet another meeting with them coming up with excuses.
As bad as I felt, however, I was getting a hang of it and as instructed by my coworkers I started to write sex templates to minimize my effort and maximise the return. Perhaps not surprisingly given that most clients were heterosexual males, men were much better at the job than women and they were the ones worth listening to.
Meanwhile, I got praised officially for my conversational skills on topics other than sex that made some of the few not pervy but just sad and lonely clients come back to me over and over again. I also quite enjoyed being the sexting dominatrix, even if initially I was shy about swearing at clients and coming up with BDSM scenarios (what do you think about my “I’m-opening-a-champagne-bottle-in-your-bum routine”?).
I’ve Had Better
After a full month of this work I was dreaming about sex all the time. Can you even imagine a 10 hour long shift of writing about sex? My dreams were full of people having orgies, ejaculating on my face and wearing latex. I was typing when I was sleeping too, often waking up when I hit something.
The night shifts were tough on me and so was the after-shift drinking. I was 18 and I had a strong body but with the emotional load of the job it was becoming too much.
My friends started to notice that I was changing as well. I was making overly sexual jokes and almost everything anyone said was making me think of sex.
I lost my virginity somewhere around there and it felt like the biggest disappointment ever. The only thing I wished for was that I had lost it to my boyfriend I had at 15, rather than waited for it so long. Perhaps it was partially so disappointing because I had written about it all and my partner couldn’t have made it better than what I’d imagined…
Even though I became much less shy and my sexual vocabulary was growing every day, my stats were not amazing. I felt a lot of guilt about the work I was doing and I often let go of a client when, according to my supervisor, I should have just kept lying. I just didn’t have a stomach for it and however skilfully I described the imaginary sex we could be having, the clients sooner or later wanted to meet.
My unwillingness to tell them certain things was affecting my performance. Eventually, my supervisor suggested I tried out fortune telling instead. The stats to meet were much lower and I was good at talking to people. As much as I couldn’t tell the future, the clients who contacted me mostly needed help that didn’t require a Tarot reading. A husband who was a drunkard wasn’t going to stop drinking, a student who didn’t study for an exam wasn’t going to pass it and a guy who left his lover for another woman 5 years before wasn’t going to come back… I ended up giving people love advice and my stats were finally looking good. I sexted less and less until I moved entirely to fortune telling. After a few months I quit the job to start my studies.
It was definitely an interesting experience and one I bragged about for years. You know, a fun story to tell at a party! How many people, after all, have worked as sexters? If I am to be honest with myself, however, it was really not all shits and giggles. It was a somewhat traumatic experience that took away my innocence and romanticism before my boyfriend of that time taught me some realism by breaking my heart. For a long time after that, sex seemed to me only carnal and a rather disappointing affair. Who knows when I would have found a good relationship, if not for this experience that made me see men as generally untrustworthy and disgusting?
As always in life I have no regrets but I definitely had no idea what I was getting into and how strongly it was going to affect me. Just for the record, I am for legalisation of sex work and anyone above 18 should be allowed to become a sex worker, a stripper, a dominatrix, a sexter or anyone else in this line of work. However, that they should be able to, doesn’t mean that they actually should do it. It’s a decision everyone should make for themselves after long deliberation because the consequences of even the most sexless of sex jobs can be dire.
Would you allow your daughter/son to become a sexter? What do you think about sexting? Have you ever used similar services? Go crazy in the comments’ section.