Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Whew!

I've had off-phone commitments and activities a few days in a row, and a very busy on-phone life as well. Yay me! Leaving myself logged in overnight at a higher rate has definitely helped my bottom line, but tonight I'm just logging out to make sure I get solid uninterrupted sleep.

I've even been too busy to write about all the fun things I've learned from 10 days with Google analytics. That is a special kind of busy right there for sure!

I look forward to you using / submitting to / going under for me tomorrow!

Monday, November 29, 2010

Contest at MyFlirtStore

There's a contest going on at MyFlirtStore: whoever gets "featured" the most from now until Christmas wins an iPhone 4. I have an iPhone 3, and it would be fun to have an iPhone 4, but not necessary, so don't worry, I won't be mad at all of you if I don't win :)

MyFlirtStore is a place for NiteFlirt providers to list their pay-to-view and tribute offerings. All the money processing goes through your NiteFlirt account, just the same as if it were listed on my NiteFlirt page. I have a page there: http://www.myflirtstore.com/Smart-Fun-Galiana.html

But if you go to the main page (http://www.myflirtstore.com/), you'll see that there are Flirts "featured" down the right side of the page. The way they got featured was by people clicking their "Click Here / Feature Me" button. It's $10 and it makes me show up in the Featured list for 30 days. Here's the button, sorry it's flashing. Please don't have a seizure. Thanks. 



The money doesn't go to me. It goes to MyFlirtStore, which is run by a Flirt all on her own, who has made a pretty awesome and helpful web site.

However, the one month when I have been Featured, I definitely sold more pay-to-view items, so the money comes to me indirectly. For each Featuring, I get an extra 30 days - they stack.

And as incentive: anybody who sends me proof that you participated can pick out one item for free from My Flirt Store (including the Sybian video) to say thanks!

Galiana In Virtual Water(color)

Oh my gosh. A caller read saw my virtual oil painting on my blog, and sent me a virtual watercolor!
It's based on a picture that is in my FB profile picture set, and also in my Faves picture set. It's from New Year's Eve 2009/New Year's 2010 - we had a party and I wore my $15 tiara that I hadn't worn since my wedding because... well... I could. Oh wait, sometimes I wear it when I'm playing Rock Band. But only when there are girls I want to kiss involved. Oh wait, that's not the point here...

He calls it "Mona Lisa Galiana" Awwwww. Thanks Prof!!

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Becoming Mistress Galiana

Today's post brought to you by... I'm on the front page of Fetish -> Fem Dommes! And pleasantly shocked by that!

Three months ago, I wrote a blog post about being an on-phone Mistress. A commenter wrote, "I can't help but wonder if this Mistress Galiana isn't closer to who you are becoming?" I replied:
"I have about 4 more blog posts started to explore that very question, but the very short summary is: I've always been a social and professional switch (can bottom or top as needed), but never figured out how to translate it to the bedroom before now. I'm looking forward to continuing to explore it.

I know I'll never be just a Mistress. I know I'll always be a switch. I trust that I will eventually be confident as a Mistress, just as confident as I was as a Tech Manager after I'd been a Tech Manager for 6 years. Wow. I hope it doesn't take me 6 years this time."
It didn't take 6 years. It took about 50 calls. Patterns are beginning to emerge.

I have to talk about it first. As it says in my Domme and Hypno listings, negotiation is mandatory. Everyone wants a different blend of restraint, feminization, sensory overload, sensory deprivation, guided masturbation, tease and denial, pain, reward, punishment, encouraging or requiring bisexual activity, and/or cuckolding role play. Submissives who expect me to launch into a script tend to hang up on me. People who want an unusual blend, or a bit of connection before we play, are the ones who tend to call me back.

I love boys with toys. When a sub says he has a cock ring and a butt plug and a dildo and a flogger and clothespins, it's like having a road map to delicious sadistic debauchery. I know, that's lazy of me. But I love it. 


I understand. My honesty about being a switch has attracted some who want to know their Mistress understands their side of the fence. Because I have also experienced the delicious thrill of having a Master's or Mistress' complete and utter attention, knowing they have our mutual pleasure in mind, I am able to give that same focus. 

I want the best from them. If someone craves tease and denial before they climax, I want them to be sweating before I allow them to come. If someone wants to improve their cock sucking skills, I want to see that lipstick ring all the way down to the base of that dildo. I know having someone else spur you on helps you stretch yourself, and it's amazingly erotic.

I want the best for them. I genuinely want to help people be their best. So if someone is confessing guilt to me about things they found erotic, but disturbing, with another Mistress, I'm happy to guide them away from those pitfalls and toward new ways of experiencing pleasure. I especially feel like I'm helping sissies become their best, because there's so much to learn about being a good slutty girl! Heels! Makeup! Fellatio! Oh my!

I love erotic hypnosis. I am finding it amazingly gratifying to to be able to tell someone, "I am pleased with you," and hear them shudder with erotic pleasure. I'm not interested in brainwashing someone to their detriment, but I will enhance an orgasm every day of the week. Taking someone deep and strengthening their response to my voice is just fun. 

I have limits. But I wrote about those in this blog post, so I won't repeat them.

Wads of cash are not appearing. Financial domination is much more often a fantasy than a reality. The urge to pamper me and buy me gifts tends to disappear about 5 seconds after an orgasm. I believe that some women get large tributes from real financial submissives, but so far, I am not one of those women. I'm still enjoying the heck out of those calls - it is just as much fun to fantasize about being spoiled as it is to fantasize about seducing neighbors or being the lucky girl in a gang bang. But it ain't real so far.

I need to improve: teasing. I'm getting better at drawing out a teasing session, and I know dozens of ways to stimulate a cock with my fingers and tongue, but I still suck at staying away from a cock. I mean, honestly, it's right there, twitching at me, how can I ignore it? Plus, I have vivid memories of saying that I want to be teased for 30 minutes, but then 15 minutes into it, I'm dying to come, so I still tend to cave too quickly. I'm getting better. My pacing control is improving, and I'm remembering to interrupt the action more often. But there's plenty of room to grow.

I need to improve: return conditions. When a submissive promises me he won't masturbate until he calls back, and then he doesn't call back, I wonder: is he concerned I'll be upset? I won't be. It just shows how weak he is without my guidance and how much he needs me to help him be his best. Right? But how do you communicate that without giving someone an "easy way out" and being a wimpy Mistress? Confusing.

I still need to improve: humiliation. Sometimes I can be ruthlessly cutting - when I heard myself asking a painslut small penis humiliation subby if a penis that small was even capable of feeling pain and described flumping it with my finger, I realized my s.p.h. has gotten pretty solid. And I'm almost always much more cruel the second and third time we talk than the first, as if it has to soak into my subconscious that he really does get an erotic charge from this, but it would be lovely if I could jump in more easily. 


I summed it all up pretty neatly in an email to a financial submissive who changed his mind after he climaxed: 
I think sexual experience and sexual expression can help people on their path to becoming the best version of themselves. I don't personally understand how being humiliated or financially dominated can fulfill someone, but I know how being beaten helped me, and that is equally irrational.
Since I have limits of what I would say (and many other Mistresses do not seem to), I like to think that at least I'm a slightly safer pool to splash about it. The rocks you're drawn to by my siren voice are, hopefully, only foam board, and your ship should stay perfectly safe with me.
I'm loving becoming Mistress Galiana, so much more than I thought I would. Bring it on.

Galiana In Virtual Oil

My husband paints sometimes to clear his mind, usually digitally with a pressure-sensitive touch tablet (WACOM). The other day he took a pic of me with his phone and then paint-ified it for fun:

Galiana In Virtual Oil
Before he took the picture, he had me shift my top lower to show off my boobs. I told him "thank you" on your behalf already :) 

Now I have an "oil painting" of myself up in my Fuckatorium! So fun!

Sleep-Rate Experiment: Success!

Last night I had a fantastic long call - over two hours - on my sleep-rate (as explained here). I would have completely missed the call if I had just logged out for the night.

So I will continue the sleep-rate experiment for the foreseeable future, since my life allows for me to sleep later in the morning, or take a nap during the afternoon,  if I've been awake from about 4:45 am - 7:00 am. Considering I didn't get to sleep until about 1:00 am, it means my sleep pattern is now seriously unorthodox.

If I have something I'm resting up for, or if I'm starting to feel sleep-deprived, I'll take a night off and not think twice about it. Health first.

But if I am rested and don't have plans, I will probably be staying on almost 24/7 unless I figure out that it is a bad idea for me. For example, if I end up getting a lot of very short calls on my sleep-rate, it's not worth the interruption. But the ability to connect with The Wanker...

Last night, it was The Wanker who called me, complete with his scrumptious accent and love for long edging calls. Yum. It had been a while since we'd spoken, so it was extra-delightful to hear from him, and be able to toy him: stimulated enough to keep him refilling his account, but not quite enough to topple him over the edge. Our conversation about trying the Raise the Rate game got him, though, darn it.

(Raise the Rate is a financial domination phone sex game: in the middle of the conversation, the provider - who is the dominant partner - suddenly hangs up. The caller finds that the provider has raised the rate to continue the conversation. The game is to see how high his need will take him. There are fun little individual power-play variations, but that's the gist of it.)

The Wanker is not my only caller in Europe, and the timing would be better for them if I were available more often during US overnight hours.

It comes down to this: if I log out, there is a 0% chance of talking with me. However, if I stay logged in but raise my rate, then it's up to the caller to decide whether or not it is worth it to talk. As long as I am being realistic with myself about what dollar amount compensates me for sleep-interruption, we're all good.

Well, almost all good. The trickiest part of having a sleep-rate? What if I wake up and have to pee?

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Dozen Orgasms

I have a wide variety of laughs: giggles, guffaws, belly laughs, snickers, an explosive surprised laugh-bang, and short stifled snorts when I'm trying not to lose the food or drink in my mouth.

When I'm laughing my hardest, I don't make sound or breathe for many seconds, followed by a peculiar high-pitched hissing sound as if air is leaking out of me. The hardest I ever laughed was planning my wedding - I was working long days in a stressful crunch time and not sleeping nearly enough. The final catering menu/invoice for approval said "Shrimp Screwers" instead of "Shrimp Skewers". Could. Not. Recover. My now-husband had to guide me to bed, wiping tears from my eyes, to let me rock myself to sleep with sporadically shaking fits of hysteria.

During my early-30s sexual rampage, I was called a "good squeaky toy" by one lover who liked the variety of noises I make during sex. Gasps, moans, sighs, whimpers, grunts, and that encouraging "mmhmm" hum when a cock in my mouth is getting close to climax.

I've claimed that I probably have a dozen orgasms, but I've never categorized them. Until one Saturday after I became a phone sex operator - also known as today - musing idly between calls, I decided to try. In no order (but numbered for my convenience):
  1. Soft External: There's a soft rolling kind that requires gentle, constant stimulation on my clit and inner labia -- ideally from a tongue -- and it feels like warmth spreads all over me and all my muscles pulse gently, then release in a way that leaves me feeling relaxed.
  2. Soft External Rolling: When I have a #1 orgasm and the gentle, constant stimulation doesn't stop, and I don't resist climaxing, I can sometimes start having orgasm after orgasm, and they start smooshing together until they blur into this one crazy long thrashing breathtaking rolling orgasm that feels like it will never end.
  3. G-spot Fingers: When fingers are rubbing my G-spot, with the same kind of circling, pulsing pressure you'd use to polish a silver spoon, I have muscle spasms all over my body before and during the orgasm. They're a little draining, and either I have to rest for a bit afterward, or they make me ravenous for more, and there's no way to predict which it will be. 
  4. G-spot Fingers, Clit Tongue: When I have a #3 orgasm but add in a tongue and lips to stimulate my clit, it's a hard, strong, overpowering orgasm that I can't always control, even if I'm tied up and trying not to come. It feels like a big bang from my tummy that hits all my muscles at once. I almost always need to pause a minute or two after these. And not that playful "oh well then I'll just keep going" kind of request to rest, I mean pause for real or you risk a kick in the face from involuntary spasms.
  5. Vibrators: My favorite vibrator combination is one inside me that hits my G-spot, and one external that has a diffused, gentle vibration on my clit. My clit is too sensitive for direct hard, strong vibrations - that just feels uncomfortably painful instead of arousing. (I know, what kind of a lousy pain slut am I? Sheesh) Vibrator orgasms build steadily to a climax that I feel mostly in my legs, with a tingling warmth that makes me want to roll into a ball.
  6. Pain Slut: To defend my pain slut honor... If I've been flogged, clamped, pinched, spanked, or a combination of those, the orgasm spreads itself through my whole body, as if it's starting everywhere, instead of starting in my pussy. Usually these involve embarrassingly loud noises and require a bit of a recovery pause after. 
  7. Girl On Top: When a man is on his back and I'm riding him and grinding my clit into the base of his cock, I can have these crazy-making sneak-up-on-me orgasms. All of a sudden, I'm past the edge, and I don't know when I got close. And from that moment until I climax, every part of my skin gets exponentially more sensitive to touch and pain, so it is intensified with a well-time smack or pinch or grab. When I'm with a partner I trust, I have been known to spontaneously burst into tears after these orgasms, as if it uncorked a bottle of champagne. Wrapping your arms around me and saying "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere" is the best way to help me settle back in.
  8. Mixing In Anal: Any of the above orgasms are made more intense and guttural and primal with the addition of anal stimulation, whether it be fingers or a butt plug or a vibrator or (in very limited cases with people I trust deeply) a cock. Primal is the best adjective, but I'm not sure I can explain what exactly I mean by that... it just feels deeper and more raw. 
  9. Bound and/or Blindfolded: When restraints or restrictions or sensory deprivation are added into the mix, I become more relaxed, oddly enough, and have much more control over my climax. I love feeling myself involuntary strain against cuffs or ropes - that sensation makes all other sensations more like warm liquid pleasure. Orgasms when I'm bound tend to be more deeply satisfying, even if they're not always as loud or as full of thrashing. 
  10. While Struggling: I love the physicality of struggling against my partner during sex (with safe words and someone I trust), and the orgasms I have while struggling feel athletic: strong, swift, and full of adrenaline. They make me feel stronger and hungrier, which is bizarrely counter-intuitive.
  11. Slow-Build Overstimulated: Regardless of the mixture of stimulation methods, if an orgasm builds over a long time (30 minutes or more) with pauses, interruptions, teases, and direct instructions not to come, I go to a place where my rational brain no longer feels in control, and I'm shaking with lust. When that hunger is finally released, I feel like I'm exploding, like my body and skin are being shattered and scattered. That kind of orgasm can sometimes cause the rare end-of-Galiana ragdoll phenomenon, where I feel limp, impervious to all sensation, and unable to figure out my safe word for a few minutes. Trust required.
  12. My Favorite - Missionary: It sounds boring by comparison, I know, but there's something about being under a man, with his whole chest against my whole chest, nuzzling into each others' necks and shoulders, when I'm urging him deeper with my hands and legs and hips, and he's pressing himself completely against me, that grinds into my clit and pussy perfectly. I love feeling trapped when I arch against him, and feeling him respond to my tightening when I come. I've been told sometimes it's a struggle to stay inside me because I clench so hard like that. I feel like my whole body floats and swirls. I love it.
Wow, I do have a dozen orgasms after all... at least. I could probably think of others, but there are vibrators... and a husband... and maybe I can think of better things to do right now... 

Experimenting With Sleep-Rates

Science must be done.

I'm going to experiment with staying logged in when I'm asleep, at higher rates, but waking up to take calls if they come in. I have a few seconds of information from Madge (the NiteFlirt automated voice, named after the woman who did the computer's voice in Star Trek, Gene Roddenberry's wife, Majel Barrett) to shake off the sleepies and find my sexy.

Probably my notes will suffer. Chances are excellent I won't remember names, although I'll be falling asleep repeating the mantra of "I remember names well, especially when I am tired." I'll have caffeine in the fuckatorium for immediate consumption.

The good thing is that I usually wake up snuggly, which transitions nicely to sexy, so as long as complete coherence is not required, I should be in good shape.

Wish me good data!

Friday, November 26, 2010

Where's The Sluts

Someone found my blog today from a google search for "where's the sluts".

I'm so proud /sniffle. You get me, Google. You totally get me.

Long Off-Topic Letter to Allie Brosh

Warning: This blog post is seriously long. And seriously off-topic. If you read it at your own risk, I'm sorry you were so bored that this seemed like a good idea. /pat

I took about a week to read all the way through the entire blog "Hyperbole and a Half" from beginning to end after I got hooked with this post, which might be the very most awesome blog entry ever in the history of anything (warning: it is a very long blog post, even longer than this one): Dogs Don't Understand Basic Concepts Like Moving

If you went and read that and didn't cry laughing and then want to hug the author, you are an unfeeling cyborg and I pity your lack of ability to feel emotion.

And then I noticed that my speaking / writing style had shifted to be more Allie-like (Allie Brosh is the author). For example, the previous sentence about cyborgs sounded more like Allie than it sounds like Galiana. I've always been a horrible mimic. It was bound to happen. It'll fade and I'll go back to sounding like Galiana as long as I don't start over and read her whole blog again next week. Which I might.

But more importantly, I found myself musing about her blog: She got 100 followers in September 2009, after about 2 months. Now she has between 1 and 2 million unique visitors per month. That's a crazy fast ramp-up. And crazy fast success for someone who often couldn't afford heat last winter. FYI: Not being able to afford heat in Montana is bad.

I have a little theory about how fame is unnatural and psychically disturbing. And I have a hunch that Allie is being psychically disturbed by her new-found fame. Sure, the money is great, but being followed and adored (and vilified) by that many people has to be mind-bogglingly peculiar.

So I wrote her a letter, just in case my little theory makes her slightly happy, to try to repay her for the hours of happy she gave me with her blog.

Then I was happy with what I wrote, so I wanted to share it with someone, but my off-phone Facebook account includes too many teenagers and religiously conservative friends of my mom to share it there, because it says "Fuck" a lot, and I don't think Facebook should feel assaulting to the nice people who prayed for me when I was growing up.

So I'm sharing it with you. You know I say "fuck" a lot, and yet you choose to read me anyway.

And I won't lie: in the back of my mind, the possibility exists that Allie will think it's the best letter ever and link to my blog and then I'll become famous on the internet and end up being the Dan Savage of phone sex workers.

But since the odds of that happening are approximately the same as me wandering down the street and having a mega-millions-winning lottery ticket blow into my face and stick there, I'll just share it because I'm narcissistic and I want people to tell me that I did a nice thing, and it was well-written.

And I want to post it here because it makes me happy that I wrote it, and when I review old blog post titles, I like being reminded of things that make me happy, like magical barfing dogs.

So here it is:
**************************

Allie,
I attempted to leave a huge comment, but it rejected it saying it was too long, on this blog post: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2009/12/im-sorry.html

So instead I'm mailing you the comment. Here's what it said:
=============================

I spent about a week reading through your whole blog, and this entry has stuck with me, and I wanted to write you what I was thinking in case I'm having a hunch and it's right.

Here's my hunch: fame and high blog traffic are super-duper weird for you.

Here's my theory: human beings aren't created for celebrity.

Here's my guess: When you had 125 followers, it felt great, and you could totally keep up with everyone, and it felt like a cozy community. As that number grew, you started losing track and feeling guilt, but then when it hit about 450 people wanting to interact with you, it started getting very fuzzy. You had to make some new rules to protect yourself, like "it's okay if I don't answer everything".

Here's why I guess that: 125 is the number that most churches and social organizations cannot overcome no matter how hard they try. 450 is the number where companies tend to explode or implode. They are irrationally magic numbers.

Here's my pseudo-scientific reasoning, which I'm pretty sure I read somewhere when reading about church growth theory: ... irrationally magic numbers... unless you consider that our hunter-gatherer backgrounds make it difficult to sustain hunter-gatherer groups of more than about 125 - they tend to split about then, and once there are four groups of 100-125 each in an area, wars break out.

So as a human being, you're not really biologically equipped to keep track of more than 450 people ever. It's not your fault, you're just human. It feels weird to have a million visitors a day because **it is weird**. It's totally fucking bizarre. One person shouldn't be known by a million other people. It's totally fucked up. There's no way in the world one person's brain, no matter how awesome, can wrap itself around that freaky shit.

Here's my strong advice to you: don't try to wrap your mind around it. Just pretend like it's only 125 people. Like you're still starving, and your hunger is still driving you, but now sometimes things magically pop up like heat and the ability to eat at a restaurant, but those are magical, and certainly don't come from anything as fucked up as internet celebrity.

Here's why it's probably especially troubling: A year ago, the thought of going home for the holidays overwhelmed you one day, and you wrote about it, and your little cozy community helped you with it. But now you make long posts with lots of pictures, and cake and dogs and spiders and bricks, and lots of people see those posts. But those posts probably don't feel as personal as the one you wrote last December. And it's possible that in the back of your mind, you wonder if you had another day like that, if you wrote another post like that, would it all come tumbling down forever? Or could a million people be as cozy as 125?

Here's my guess: No, a million people could not be anywhere near as cozy as 125. But fuck 'em. All of 'em. All of us. Fuck us all to hell. Your blog got popular because you did what you felt like doing, and some of those things ended up being popular.

Here's my observation: Reading through your blog, there was a spot in early 2010 where Boyfriend said, in exasperation, "draw it - it'll make you feel better" because he knew you, and you did, and sure enough, that drew people to you.

So let's repeat that. Slowly. For dramatic effect.

You did the thing that made you feel better, and it drew people to you.

Keep doing that, Allie. That's all you have to do. Everything else is stupid bullshit and deserves to be "It" in Brick Tag.

*internet hug*

=============================
Galiana

Twitter to Blog to Call!

I just had my first call where the caller found me from Twitter! That led him to my blog, which led him to call me.

I NEED CAPS TO EXPRESS HOW EXCITED I AM!

All right. Seriously. The caps lock thing has to die here. I get that. I know. It's just not okay to keep over-caps'ing you guys. But it's justified in this case. Completely.

But in the meantime... I am thrilled! So far, people have found my blog / Twitter via NiteFlirt, which has led them to call me, but never the other way around. Except I can't say that any more - because now they have!

Wow. I have such renewed energy now for Twittering and blogging. I brought in a brand new person! All by myself! 

And best of all: I brought in a fucking yummy person. Remember how my favorite kind of call is when I'm just sleepy enough to start contemplating logging off, and I get what will probably be my last call of the night and I have one or two big fat delicious wonderful orgasms to put me to sleep with nice happy energy? It was that kind of a call. Luckiest. Girl. Ever.

Thanks, Prof! I look forward to your next office hours!

Can't Take Me Anywhere

Tuesday night, a childhood friend was in from out of town, and we were waiting outside for a table at the popular kitschy Austin hangout she had frequented in college.

A guy in his early 20s was standing with other people in their early 20s, and he was wearing an obviously well-worn t-shirt that said, "SPHS Volleyball".

Since starting this line of work, SPH now means Small Penis Humiliation to me. We decided the extra S was for "services" and then theorized what small penis humiliation services volleyball would consist of.

A smaller ball? Mandatory racking after missed shots? Would it be like strip poker, but after you lost all your normal gym clothes, you'd slowly have to layer up in sissy lingerie and nylons? Would the winning team or the losing team have to take it up the ass? So much to consider!

I love it a lot that I have friends who find such conversations amusing. I totally win.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Giving Thanks

I'm thankful for:
  • Friends and family who love me and support me, even in this crazy new job
  • The ability to work
  • Medicine that lets me sometimes be social with large groups of people, even though groups are wiggly bastards (I have vertigo, explained here)
  • Two dogs, and a life partner who agrees how we should "raise" them, and fusses over their quirks and training as much as I do (perhaps it's best I don't have kids)
  • A wonderful home with a generous back yard for two dogs
  • All the fun new things I know about myself, sexual fetishes, and what gets people off
I hope your day was at least as full of joy and yummy food as mine! 

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Amazon List Back Up

For security reasons, I took down my Amazon Wish List until I got a PO Box, and now I have a PO Box, so my Wish List is back up! You can find it here: https://www.amazon.com/registry/wishlist/1688KL7WCFZAS?reveal=unpurchased&sort=priority

It seems to me like the exchange of phone sex for money is a fair exchange, and further presents are not required. But a few people have said they'd like to give me gifts for the holidays, so now you can! 

I have a few dresses that would be comfy and easy to lounge in, a few fun pairs of shoes, sex toys, lingerie, a high quality web cam, and a few practical around-the-house items. And gift cards.

Or you just browse and realize how much I like food - restaurant and chocolate gift cards make up most of my list. I love dining out some place a little ritzier than our normal fare - it feels festive and fun and luxurious. And of course, Amazon gift cards make my holiday shopping so much simpler.

All gifts will be thanked with custom pictures. Or if you want to see me in something specific, let me know and I'll add it to the list. Thanks tons!

Ooooo 24 States!

In the past 4 days, I've had blog readers from 24 states!

As expected, I'm completely dorking out over having Google Analytics. I have found nothing whatsoever to help me predict anything about the business of being a phone sex operator, but it's been super fun to set new goals (all 50 states!) and watch trends (average pages/visit... down... up... down... Dammit).

Since almost all my posts about data have a frustrated "Dammit." in there somewhere, I should probably stop trying to analyze it, shouldn't I?

But, but, but... I can't! Dammit.

Happy Thanksgiving holiday! I'll be mostly online - I look forward to talking with you if you can!

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

New PTV: Strap-On Pics

Lately I have been getting more calls from men who want to be penetrated. I have a strap-on-ish contraption called a "Tantus Feeldoe Vibrator" that I keep describing. And I have twenty-five high-quality pictures of me with my Feeldoe, which I've been selfishly keeping hidden. 

Today, finally, I'm happy to report, those pictures are available for sale for $5. You can buy the picture set from this link, or by going to my Flirt store (payment via your NiteFlirt account).

Now that I have hosting figured out, the package is available with two options: you can view the pictures on a web page with a comment for each picture (which I have a lot of fun writing). Or you can download the pictures at 1024 x 682 resolution in a zip file (which is much larger than the samples below). Or you can do both the site and the zip file, it's up to you.

Before we begin the preview pictures, answers to a few common strap-on questions: Yes, I've really used strap-ons in my off-phone sex life. Yes, with both men and women. Yes, I love it. Yes, I can genuinely have an orgasm from it (with the Feeldoe, or with my other strap-on that has inserts and a vibrator pouch). Yes, I've used this Feeldoe in person (although only with a woman so far... I need to change that). 

This is what it looks like. The short end of the "L", the one that looks like an egg, goes inside me. And when it rocks forward, that egg presses against my g-spot. And when it rocks backward, the ridges on the curved part stimulate my clit. It's utterly delicious.

This is what it looks like when I amuse myself with it by treating it as a loaded weapon. There are a few shots like this, and I love them all - femme fatale action heroine with her trusty Mr Blue!

This is the way I think every man who is about to get pegged should be forced to see his penetrator: from below her, with her strap-on prominently displayed, and a look on her face that suggests she doesn't much care if you're going to have fun or not.

My personal fave. My next words are, "On your knees, bitch. And spread 'em."

Monday, November 22, 2010

Thanksgiving Week Plans

This year for the holidays, instead of having two quick trips to see family (Thanksgiving and Christmas), we're staying put for Thanksgiving, but going for a longer visit over Christmas.

That means I'll be available on the phones this week! ... with some caveats and explanations of course. It wouldn't be Galiana without caveats and explanations, now, would it?

First, a public service announcement: the holidays can be rough for people with strained family relationships, or strained finances who cannot travel to see family, or who just get plain ol' sick of their family. I would absolutely love to talk about your holiday struggles with you, or to help you escape them for a little while!...

...But I am not a trained mental health professional, so if you or someone you love are in danger of trying to hurt themselves, please call 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255) or 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433), where caring trained people can help you talk through your options. Millions of people are glad they called. Please be one of them.

No death. You got that? It's a hard boundary of mine. Absolutely no death whatsoever.

Good. I'm glad we're clear.

So now on to more mundane logistical topics: We've gathered a few friends without plans, so we are having a low-key Thanksgiving dinner at our place. That means Wednesday I'll be cleaning and prepping, Thursday I'll be dining and hanging out, and Friday I'll be recouping and cleaning again.

However, as it turns out, our guests are primarily friends of my husband, not primarily friends of mine, and they all know I do phone sex work (my husband brags about me - it's very sweet), so while they're over, I'm probably going to raise my rate and stay logged in. I'm happy to take a break from chatting with geeks to chat with geeks! (you're not all geeks, but it amused me to say that)

And the same goes for Wednesday and Friday - as I'm puttering around doing interruptible chores, I'll probably raise my rate but stay logged in. But when I'm done with chores and doing my normal lounging in the Fuckatorium blogging and looking for non-existent data trends while avoiding organizing my pictures for sale, the rates will go back to normal.

I will be away from the phones Tuesday over dinner - one of my dearest life-long friends is in town for just one night. We were at each others' first birthday parties - that kind of life-long friend! I haven't seen her since Halloween 2009, and I'm so excited! Yay yay yay /happydance

I look forward to the conversations I'll have this week - I am really fascinated to see if it feels any different over a holiday. And if you usually call me about once per week-ish, but you'll be away this week, I hope you have a fantastic time, and I look forward to catching up when you return!

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Marry Me, Google Analytics!

I try not to type anything at all in all caps, because it makes me look less literate, and I'm supposed the smart, articulate phone sex operator, right? Right. I'm calm, well-educated, and sometimes consult Strunk & White.

OH. MY. GOD. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME ABOUT GOOGLE ANALYTICS?

But sometimes it's necessary. Like for instance, when, for three months, you've been blathering on about how much you love data, and how you're trying to find trends in your totally non-trending data, and how you start making up stories from the meager information available in Blogspot's "Stats" tab... and then you find out that there's a whole world of data available for free if someone would have just told you that Google Analytics offers about a billion times more information than Blogspot's Stats.

(side note: ... which makes no sense at all, because Google owns Blogspot (aka Blogger), so you'd think that the information on the Blogspot Stats tab would be the best stats that Google could give you. But no, you'd totally and utterly be wrong. The Stats tab compares to Analytics the way an anemic neglected flea-ridden yard dog compares to Sadie, the Scottish Terrier that won Westminster this year)

I just got my second day of data. Now I can COMPARE THINGS!! IT'S SO EXCITING!

FYI: Data is aggregated by day, so although I can tell that someone was reading me from Copenhagen (hi, Denmark!), and I can tell that people arrived at my blog via NiteFlirt, Twitter, another Flirt's blog, and a few Google searches, I cannot tell specifically how the person in Copenhagen found me. Well, not unless that reader was the only person reading my blog all day, which I hope never occurs. 

I think I'm hyperventilating a little. I'M SO IN LOVE!!

And just when I thought that surely I had run out of posts about data on my phone sex blog. You remember it, don't you? The blog that was supposed to be about phone sex? Not the blog that is supposed to be about the futility of trying to analyze data about phone sex?

I'll do my best to spread out the data posts but now that I know that my average pages per visit is 477% HIGHER than the small site benchmark, how can I possibly not share that with you?!? IT'S TOO WONDERFUL NOT TO SHARE!

Maybe I've had too much caffeine.

Serious Offer: If you can prove to me that you're a member of the Google Analytics team, I will totally throw free minutes at you and let you listen to me masturbate while I ask you questions about your job. That same offer still stands for the OK Cupid data analysis team, too, by the way. I love you soooooo much /sniffle

Sorry, Searcher

Dear Person Who Found My Blog By Googling "Phone Sex" and "Job Interview":

My story about being asked to role play a fantasy where I went to a job interview to be a combo blow job giver + statistician was probably not at all what you were expecting to find.

Sorry.

I wish you all the best -
Galiana

New Where To Start Page

On Nov 15 2010, when this blog was exactly 3 months old, I figured out my blog would be 157 pages if it were made into a physical book. It is no longer feasible for someone to sit down and read my whole blog before they call me.

So it seemed like a good idea to create a guided tour of the basics of Galiana - a place to start, at least.

That guided tour is now on a new page (http://galianachance.blogspot.com/p/where-to-start.html), but I've replicated it here, so I would remember what it looked like when it first started (I expect to update it with new posts).

About My Life:
About Galiana the Phone Sex Operator:
Things To Always Do If You Call Phone Sex Lines:
About Calls With Me: 
My Limitations and Challenges:
Galiana's Little Theories On Life:
Blog Posts That Turned Into Series:
My Favorite Blog Post So Far:
The labels down the left of my blog link to blog posts which are tagged with that label - a few of interest:
  • Data: posts detailing what I've learned by analyzing data about my job, and what I no longer believe can be known 
  • Funny: posts that I find more amusing than informative 
  • My Way: posts explaining how I do this job, and how that may be different than how others do it
  • Pics: posts with pictures in them
  • PSO: posts more about the business side of being a Phone Sex Operator 
  • What I Want: posts about what I want, from callers and from life, but mostly from callers 
Logistics:
And that concludes our "Welcome to Chance It: The Blogged Life of Galiana Chance" Tour!

Welcome aboard.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Four Months, One Trend

If you click the "data" link to the left of this blog post, you'll see my observations (complaints? poutings? whinings?) about the unpredictability in the life of a phone sex operator (at least in the life of a independent phone sex contractor using the NiteFlirt platform - it's possible that it is more predictable if you are working as an employee for a phone sex company where you don't get to create your profile from your own pictures).

As of  Monday, 11/15/2010, I have been a phone sex operator for four months. Yay me!


I am now pleased to report that I have found exactly one trend: (drum roll please....)
Nobody calls from about 6-10 on Friday nights. 

Oh wait, I'm not pleased by that at all... Dammit.

But, for your amusement and education, I have noticed more confusing anti-trends:
  • I made more in September than I did in August (August was my 1st full month), even though I was away from the phones a lot for 40th birthday celebrations during September.
  • I made about 25% less in October than I did in September, even though I was available about 15% more hours.
  • When my October revenue dropped, my listings continued to go up, which suggests that October was low-traffic for everyone on NiteFlirt. Web traffic sites and phone sex operator forums corroborate. If anecdotal blame is to be believed, the slow-down was caused by technical glitches, sporting events, and Halloween parties.
  • November was not looking better until this past Wed-Thu, when inexplicably, without changing anything, I had a near-record-breaking 48-hour period (also, this is my excuse for not blogging yesterday, by the way - I was resting between calls).
  • Between last night and today, it just as inexplicably shifted back to normal-ish volumes.
  • I made more in pay-to-views during my first 30 days than I have made in pay-to-views in any subsequent 30-day period. 
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is all for this week's episode of "Why I Try Not to Analyze Data as a Phone Sex Operator (But Can't Help It)." 

Unintentional Assistance

The other day, an unusual theme came up: unintentional assistance, where someone was adding to another's stimulation without intending to do so.

The first example is pretty common for me: stolen panties. It has easy-to-identify erotic elements: the risk of being caught, the feel of the fabric of the panties, the scent of the wearer's pussy. I've heard of people stealing panties while house-sitting / dog-sitting, during a party, and going into a neighbor's home through an unlocked back door when they were away! As a rule, I'm not in favor of breaking and entering, so I'll assume that last one was fantasy...

The second call wasn't terribly unusual either: peeping in on a neighbor as she undresses and showers. The risk of being caught is the same as panty-stealing, but the visuals are vastly superior, in my opinion.

The third was unique, in my experience: the caller wanted me to pretend that I worked in a book store, and he was calling to get off to the sound of my voice, but didn't want me to realize it right away. He asked for directions, and when I said "get off here" he asked me to repeat for him where to "get off"... /giggle. The conversation degenerated into questions like, "How long do you keep yourself open?" as his breathing got heavier, and my book store clerk played along, equal parts amused and titillated, as she figured out what was happening. I loved it!

And then I realized I'd had three fantasies in one day about women being stimulating without meaning to. It made me feel all powerful and seductive indeed.  /flex   (it's okay, you can /swoon)

Thursday, November 18, 2010

My Least Favorite Thing

My least favorite thing about phone sex is when someone hangs up suddenly without even saying "Thanks! Bye!" or "Gotta go!" or "Whoa! Later... " At least then I know the call ended intentionally.

I don't mind if you don't cuddle after you climax - if I've provided the service you came to get (pun intended), you should feel free to hang up. Or if there's a life interruption, go! You should never feel badly about ending the call.

(Side Note: Of course, if you stay for afterglow or pillow talk, I love it. A lot. It makes me irrationally happy. But I'm okay without it.)

The problem is that sudden unexpected breaks without even a "Bye!" give me angst, of the was-that-the-system-or-was-that-him variety, and I can't figure out whether or not to let go of the energy of the call. If you're likely to call back, I want to be in the same place. If not, I want to clear out and move on to the next task.

I won't block you if you sudden-hang-up on me, but it is my least favorite thing.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Becoming Hypnotist Galiana

Four months into doing phone sex, I have opened up a Hypnotism listing: http://www.niteflirt.com/listings/show/9471435 The one lone piece of feedback on there so far was from the listing's start as a regular Mistress listing, but my Fetish - Fem Dommes listing is where I'm getting those calls, not in BDSM - Mistresses. 

As I explained in an early blog post here, being hypnotized erotically was new to me when I started this job. But being hypnotized was not new to me: I successfully quit smoking via hypnosis in the 1990s.

What I did not reveal in that blog post is that I had extensive childhood experience performing hypnotism. For about three years in grade school and middle school, a group of friends spent many late-night hours at camp-outs and lock-ins and sleep-overs "playing" with hypnotism.

It started with the "light as a feather, stiff as a board" game: one girl laid down, other girls knelt around her in a circle, and each girl had one finger from each hand under the girl, pressing lightly upward. We calmly said, "light as a feather, stiff as a board" over and over. At some point, the girl on the ground would float upward, carried on the weight of our fingers. Inevitably, someone would giggle or "Wow!" at that point and the floating girl would drop back an inch or two to the ground. We put pillows under them to soften the fall, and thought it was neat.

Then the idea of hypnotizing someone entered into the group. The girl being hypnotized would lie down with her head in the hypnotist's lap. The hypnotist would rub the temples of the girl going under and do a classic relaxation-type induction. When she passed an "I can't open my eyelids" check, we'd do all kinds of harmless things: extract information about who she liked (almost never a surprise), make her feel ticklish without touching her, or give her a post-hypnotic suggestion to do a handstand or to flap her arms and cluck like a chicken. Silly things.

Nobody else could get me all the way under, I always remembered everything, and post-hypnotic suggestions never worked on me, so other girls gave up trying to hypnotize me. At the same time, consensus built that I could get people under the deepest, and I had the best ideas of goofy stuff to have them do, so I became the designated hypnotist unless someone else wanted to try. Other girls would talk to me mid-session if they had an idea or a question, but the girl in a trance would usually only be able to hear my voice. 

The idea of age regression came to us somehow, so we started regressing people back to their toddler years, and asking about early memories. The rare times when older sisters were with us, or girls asked their parents about it later, memories were confirmed. It was a little creepy, but incredibly fun. The tone of the sessions changed - they felt less silly - and although I don't remember discussing it, I think we understood that we were doing something more serious, and we needed to be cautious. We only asked questions when people were regressed, and we never made suggestions to regressed people.

Then we started trying past-life regressions. The first few were uneventful, weakly constructed, sometimes obviously faked (giggles give you away), or seemed to be springing from the imagination of the person being hypnotized. Or in one case, when she crossed the bridge from this life to the former, she just popped herself out of the trance. Boring.

Then came the past-life regression that shut us down. "Laura" was as normal as anyone ever is, unremarkable in her background, unremarkable in her speech patterns among her peers, had never traveled outside the US, and had never done acting or taken dialect coaching. When Laura stepped over the bridge and went back to her previous 20-year-old self, she instantly developed a thick brogue (Irish? Scotch? Welsh?), an antiquated speech pattern, and used words that sounded like local slang that none of us had heard.

Eyes grew wide. Girls backed away. Fear hit all of us, I think. It didn't feel faked. Laura wasn't the type to be able to pull that off. I remember holding up my hands in a calming motion and making a "shhhhh" face - in fact, that may have been the moment when I learned that it only takes one calm leader to stop a stampede. I knew instinctively that we needed to stay calm and quiet to get Laura back safely. The other girls settled back in around Laura, silent but freaked out, and watched while I casually asked a few questions, so it wouldn't seem odd to her that we had come here.

For about five minutes, she told us of her life: she was raised as a farm girl, married a farmer, and had two children. She had brothers and sisters, including a sister lost to a coughing illness. Everyone had names. Everyone was specific. Every answer was startling in its mundane truthfulness.

I walked her slowly back across the bridge, taking my time, asking for confirmations, covering every base I could think of to ensure that Laura came back to us safe and sound and... well... that she came back to us as Laura. When she got back to her actual age, sounding like herself again, I emerged her.

She didn't remember anything. She felt relaxed and calm. She had no idea why we were all spazzing our little heads off. If she had created that, I believe she would have pulled a "Gotcha!" on us as we talked about it ad nauseum for the next hour, because she wasn't a subtle, manipulative, plotting girl like that. She was an easygoing goofball who followed others' lead, not the type to perpetrate and reinforce fraud on a group of her panic-stricken best friends.

We agreed never to touch it again. We agreed never to talk about it again. I am deeply grateful that we were a group of basically well-meaning kids who simply walked away when we got in over our heads. And I wonder how the heck we got our ideas and techniques... I remember coming up with a few things myself, but I have no idea how we got all the way to past-life regression. That's heavy-duty stuff.

And then when I was 39, a new phone sex worker, browsing other listings, I found myself fascinated by hypno offerings, hypno blogs, and hypno theory. I started soaking up benevolent training on the internet (no "how to hypnotize people without their knowledge"). I feel confident in my research skills, and in my bullshit detection. Over the course of about a month, I soaked knowledge from respectable resources who offer state-accepted hypnotherapy certification training.

(side note: I love people who understand that by giving away some of their expertise, they become seen as experts, and attract more people asking for their expertise. Yay for super-smart marketing)

(side side note: I know some hypnotherapists would claim that whatever training I participated in over the internet was quackery, but every sub-culture has hobbyists, experts, academics, researchers, practitioners, and in-fighting... and every body of knowledge is now available on at least a surface level to curious folks with good research skills. I'd love recommendations for safe, competent, training, but I can't yet afford Big Bucks to go to live training.)

Then, since the Law of Attraction seems to work sometimes, I had someone call on my Mistress line (which does not mention hypnotism) asking to be hypnotized. And another. And then the first one called back. So I wrote out my preferred method of induction (a script? reminders? something like that), so I don't forget stuff. I would never use someone else's script - I'm waaay too picky about my rhythm to do that. And it's really just induction and emergence where I want to be consistent - the stuff in the middle is just as improv as regular phone sex.


I understand that hypnotism can be extraordinarily powerful, and I will be treading very lightly. I don't have the urge to drain someone's bank account or have them roll around naked on their front lawn or anything like that. Nothing illegal, nothing abusive, and hopefully nothing harmful. I'm going for a helpful, sensual, fun vibe with this. If I want to go deeper into more therapeutic behavior / cognitive modification, I'll get training. For now, it's just for feel-good.

My listing emphasizes: Intelligent (I'll let that one stand without further observation), Interactive (I'm not following a script except for induction and emergence - the rest of it we're creating together), Erotic (I can do non-erotic, but at the moment, erotic is more interesting to me), and Beneficial (hypno-slaves putting themselves in harm's way for me is just as unappealing as BDSM slaves putting themselves in harm's way - I'm here to help, not damage).

Hopefully that will attract people who will want what I'm offering!

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Flirty Flirts Flirting

Ohhhh, it's been a FlirtFest behind the scenes since I posted my slightly naughty Flirting with Flirts blog post.

First Princess Angel Brat Cassidy wrote a blog post in reply here: http://phonesexplayground.blogspot.com/2010/11/dirt-on-flirts.html where she admitted to a few different crushes!

And then Kiwi Candy posted on her blog too: http://candykiwi.com/blog/?p=88. And she ... umm... well... I can't think about it really without losing blood in my brain. So fun!!

And oh, hey, side note: Candy had too much ass crack showing in her listing and Play Fair pulled all her listings to pending (and I'm upset that I didn't notice when I was helping her review her listings), so she's a little stuck for a couple of days. Just so happens that I'm going to be unavailable until 6 or 7 central, so if you have the urge to help a newcomer (to NiteFlirt, but she's done phone sex before), grab a piece of Candy! http://www.niteflirt.com/listings/show/9486925

And hey, another side note: I've been hearing about - and having - NiteFlirt connection issues: if you've been having problems, drop me an email with specifics and I'll put in a Customer Support request. They can fix things they know about more quickly than things they don't know. Thanks!! 

Have a good day, mostly-not-gentle Readers, and I'll catch you tonight!

Monday, November 15, 2010

Honestly Orally Fixated, Part B

I did an early blog post about being honestly orally fixated. But then I attended a phone sex "job interview" where my oral skills were called into question, and I realized as I was explaining my "qualifications" that I should add this information to the blogged explanations of my oral cravings.

The un-sexy part: (dental phobias? skip this paragraph) I have at least a $15,000 mouth because I had two childhood oral traumas where I knocked out baby teeth, one teen oral trauma that broke one of my front teeth (it's half-fake), five oral surgeries, and braces for two and a half years in high school.

The really un-sexy part: (dental phobics skip this paragraph too) One of my surgeries was because my adult incisors were up in the roof of my mouth, and they weren't coming down to push my baby incisors out. So they removed my baby incisors, cut a path from my adult incisors to where my adult incisors should be, attached a gold chain to my adult incisors, and then slowly tugged them into position by feeding the chain through my braces. Every time I got my braces tightened, I thought my head was going to cave in from the pain for up to a week afterward.

The bizarre outcome: I figured out that it helped relieve the pain when I pressed firmly on the roof of my mouth with my tongue or my fingers, so I did that constantly during my pain weeks. The release from pain was so comforting that it developed into a Pavlovian trigger to make me feel better, even when my mouth didn't hurt, whether I was in physical pain, emotional pain, mild discomfort, whatever... I still to this day smush the roof of my mouth to relax or comfort myself.

The sexy outcome: It's not just my tongue; anything pressing on the roof of my mouth relaxes me and makes me feel safe and comforted and happy. Like fingers. Or certain kinds of gags. Or cocks. Mmmmm, dick therapy. Delish.

The straight-A perfectionist at work: When my first true love and I started heading to third base (my first time, not his), I went to the nearby university library and researched blow jobs. I don't know what human sexuality textbooks I read, but I remember feeling like I had enough information to try it. My offer was accepted immediately, with great gratitude, and his response was, "You have to have done this before."

The theater major at work: The theater kids were a progressive lot, including sitting around in mixed-gender groups trading sex tips. I remember a horror story of a bad blow job, and my response of, "I hope I never did that to anyone" being answered by two guys simultaneously saying, "No, you're great." They high-fived and everyone laughed at me while I turned horrifically red and died a little (it was common knowledge I'd dated both of them, but ... wow).

HOLY CRAP: For my birthday that year, those same two guys both gave me a vibrator as a joint gift... and yet, I'm such a dumbass... I never realized before right now, this second, that I probably could have talked them into having a male-female-male three-way with me. I am deeply filled with sorrow and regret. And very. Dirty. Mental pictures. /blink /blink

In conclusion: (so I can go finish writing and go masturbate to the images in my head...) Mr. Interviewer, I totally deserve the job of delivering your next fellatio, because I am well-researched, well-experienced, and uniquely well-built orally to not only please you, but also have a hell of a good time doing it. Thank you very much.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Pics and Pic Musings

I have a new package of pictures for sale for $5, called "35 HQ Listing Faves". The concept is that I've used a lot of my favorite shots in my listings, and some people would enjoy larger, higher-quality versions of those pictures.

So this package pulls together every pic I've ever used for any of my listings, plus a few random favorite extras. Stats: out of the 35 pictures in the package, 5 are offered in other packages, almost all are 1024 x something pixels, 6 have uncensored nudity, and either 4 or 10 of them have toys in them (depending if you count cuffs and floggers as toys).

Here's the button to buy it! (a NiteFlirt account is required) 

A few preview pics, for fun (they are bigger and higher quality in the package):
Taken amateur at home in August 2010, it's cheesy, grainy, color-corrected, and yet has a fun retro pin-up feel. I irrationally love it.

The uncensored version of this picture includes a giant handprint on my ass, thus the pout. But the pout looks fake because I asked for the giant handprint on my ass... Taken at my 40th birthday celebration shoot in September 2010.





This gem just didn't happen to make it into any of the picture packages, but I love the perspective and the little lip bite. This is what you would see after we make out and you take off my glasses (thus the glasses indention on my nose still...), as I slide my way down your chest to take you in my mouth. That grin. 

And now for some musing about pictures.

I want to start hosting my pics and providing links to password-protected folders instead of zip files, for people who are using their phone or who can't save content, so I can write little commentaries like this on my photos. I want to finally organize the 800+ pics from my September birthday celebration shoot into packages and offer them for sale - it's been two months fer pete's sake. I want to make more masturbation videos because the Sybian one has been popular.

However, I seem to be more easily motivated to write blog posts than organize pics or figure out how to set up a remote drive to connect to my photo hosting partner. I have, at least, chosen a hosting partner. Go go Galiana.

It might be the scale: 800+ pictures is a ton. It might be the inertia of having too many choices: organize by outfit? emotion? body part? some of each? Or it might be that I want uninterrupted blocks of time to sort through complex choices, and phone sex does not guarantee uninterruptibility.

So I have a new goal: one new picture package for sale each week. Trying to eat the elephant all at once has failed me, so I'm going to do it piece-meal and see how it goes. Wish me luck.

And, because some of you have asked, why are my pictures so cheap? Especially the high-quality ones done in a professional photo shoot? Because: (1) experimentation with higher prices was not profitable (2) it's in my best interest for you to have luscious images of me floating around in your head, and (3) I'm not likely to become a pay-to-view-content-centric girl. Photo and video shoots take a lot of prep and recovery for me. I would rather be excited about doing them sporadically (dress up! attention! creativity!) and have them feed phone callers than be my main focus.

I don't want to lose my excitement over the shoots themselves, and I'm afraid if I were doing them more regularly, I would indeed lose enthusiasm. The reason I like my photos is that they are memories of doing something fun, and hopefully they look like I'm having a good time. It would be no good to lose the fun - after all, Fun is my middle name! (did it really take me this long to say that? yes, yes it did)

This "favorites" set was, in some ways, the hardest to put together, and therefore the set I wanted to do first, to ensure my favorite shots were available from the beginning, and to ensure I don't use them in other sets.

I look forward to increased momentum on picture-packaging activities from now on. /fingers crossed 

Flirting with Flirts

One of the best parts of this job has been the camaraderie I have developed with a few other Flirts.

Twitter exchange between me and the most adorable little blonde babe:
GalianaChance: If sorority initiations were like my last #phonesex caller imagined, I might have joined one!
MissAngelBrat: @GalianaChance *lol* Actually...*some* of them are...*wink*
GalianaChance: @MissAngelBrat Dammit!!! LOL :)
MissAngelBrat: @GalianaChance *grins* You gotta get out more...meet the right girls!
... And then I gave up the conversation because I couldn't see straight.

Kiwi Candy wrote me to say thanks, because she's new to NiteFlirt, and she appreciates what she has learned from my blog. Days later, I finally looked over her listings and site, with those gorgeous pictures and her amazing lips, and politely offered a few suggestions, none of which included any of the dirty thoughts inspired by her perfect breasts. She wrote back the most adorably effusive response, which ended with "P.S. Denim is the BEST!" ... At which point I gave up and admitted I have a massive, giant insta-crush on her.

Buttery Bellina offered to tie me up and beat me if I'm ever in her neck of the woods. Polite response: That's a nice little helper to pick a vacation spot, isn't it? ...Actual response: OhDearGodYesPleaseWithAllMyHeart.

Zellana and I started about the same time, and I realized we're both non-monogamous bisexuals, and we sometimes have reason to end up in the same town. ... My heart stopped beating for a few seconds and I can't think about it for too long without my eyes kind of crossing.

Anna West told me I'd bank if I got on cam, and offered to do two-girl calls with me (which are complicated to do according to NiteFlirt rules, but she knows how, and I'd loooove to let Anna guide me annnnny darn way she wants). ...I haven't set up for cam, but when I do, I'm hitting that chance. Word play absolutely intended.

Inner Editor: Wait, hold on, none of what has been described is "camaraderie," it's just lust.
Inner Slut: (looks away, whistles, and wanders off slowly)

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Limits

I just realized that I can list my limits here on my blog and link to that from my listings. I don't want to list my off-limits activities in my listings, because then people searching for those things find me!

The list of what I don't find sexy to talk about lines up fairly well with NiteFlirt's Terms of Service (from the Adult Content Policy). So here are the things that I will not discuss over the phone, and a little explanation about them:
  • Bestiality: a hard limit of mine personally - no sex with animals, period. I have no sexy response to it.
  • Incest: also a hard limit of mine personally - no sex with family, period. For me, that extends to things like stealing mom/sister's panties, too - I have no sexy response. I don't mind using "Sugar Daddy" or "Daddy-O" or other sentimental mid-century phrases, and I love fantasies about older nurturing partners, but no actual family relationships in my role plays.
  • Sexual Age Play: I won't role play sexual activity with those younger than 18, or discuss people younger than 18 in a sexual manner. (Although my personal limit is 16, I understand the need for 18 on NiteFlirt, but the thought of younger than 16 disturbs me). Edit: OOPS this sounds like I would have real-life sex with a 16-year-old which... ugh... noooooo - real teens have not been attractive to me for years - my cougar limit in life is about 24. What I mean is: I would be okay in my personal life role-playing a sexy 16-year-old cheerleader or something. However, on the phone, I'll only do sexual role-play down to 18. Non-sexual conversation has no age limits for me.
  • Sex with graphic violence: that's from the terms of service, and it's vague. My definition: if you're saying you're really doing it, I would never encourage you to cut or pierce or penetrate or injure yourself in any way that runs a significant risk of requiring medical attention. Bruises and well-spanked asses and sore nipples and teeth marks are all fine. Knife play leaving shallow surface scratches is okay, but that's my edge.
  • Death: not specified by NiteFlirt, but I think of it as an extension of "graphic violence". Not only does that mean I won't role play either of us killing each other, but it also means I won't help you have an orgasm if you're driving. Pull over, then we'll play, because I'm firmly against you dying while we're on the phone.
  • Sex with degradation: so vague as to be useless. I would never launch into humiliation without being asked to provide it, but when it's consensual, I'm fine with it. I categorize name-calling and being mean as "humiliation" not "degradation". However, I won't do any kind of meanness based on race, because (a) I'd be horrible at it and (b) racial inequality pisses me off too much to be sexy for me. 
  • Rape sex: harder to define than it seems like it would be. On a personal level, I enjoy playing with "consensual non-consent", where we consensually talk about begging to stop or struggling. Heck, the raw physicality of struggling can be invigorating, even if there's no emotional resistance. I wouldn't do a straight-up rape fantasy, but there are a lot of variations of reluctance and coercion that I'm willing to play with. Discussion required.
  • Excretory functions / bodily fluids / adult baby diapering: clarified as urine or feces. Adult baby diapering is not sexy for me. Feces are a big turn-off for me, which is a little weird because I do anal and rimming (in life and on the phone - they are allowed), but I need it all to be clean, and when it isn't, I clean up with a shower. I'm personally neutral about urine. I do not understand why these are against terms of service - they seem like preferences to me, and it's hard to imagine them being illegal, but obviously NiteFlirt needs to cover their ass about something.
  • Fisting: baffling to me personally. You can have four fingers in someone but not five? What? I have zero problem with this personally. 
  • Other content which may be judged as obscene: clearly a "cover your ass" clause. Useless. 
In my personal life, I say: I don't do kids, family, animals, pee, poop, anything requiring medical assistance to recover from, or death.

If you have a question about something that's not clear-cut, drop me an email or call to ask. I'm happy to read your specifics and let you know honestly if I can accommodate without killing my sexy mood. 

Allowed and Encouraged: (font changed to green to indicate yes please!) Here's a non-exhaustive list of things I enjoy talking about that some people might find off-limits: cunnilingus, fellatio, rimming, anal sex, anal toys including strap-ons, vaginal toys, spanking, clamps, paddles, flogging, crops, cuffs, restraints, foot fetish activities, stocking fetish activities, feminization, bimbo role play, cross-dressing, lingerie fetish activities, glory holes, being my servant, cuckolding, cream pies, chastity, tease and denial, guided masturbation both ways, domination and submission both ways, me watching you on cam, big black cock fetish role plays, and humiliation (discussion required to ensure I take it in the right direction). Oh, and the basics: sex! I genuinely love the thrill of a hard cock in a wet pussy in any position I can imagine! 

Simple enough: Off-limits topics are in black, in the bullet list. Topics within my limits are in green in the previous paragraph. I hope this clarifies!

Friday, November 12, 2010

Denim Appreciation

I usually wear a skirt when I'm logged in for phone sex for easier access in case I want to masturbate.

Screen shot of Galiana's idea of soft porn
But the other day, I'd been out running errands before logging on, and was still wearing jeans when "Evanston Crush" called. He asked what I was wearing, and as I described them to him, I had flashbacks of many happy hours of rubbing and grinding while wearing denim.

If the definition of a true fetish is "something you need in order to experience sexual pleasure", then I don't have any fetishes. Well, orgasms. I need orgasms. I don't even need an erect penis (don't get me wrong, I love erect penises a lot, but I don't need them to get off). Two scenes can have zero elements in common, and I can be breathlessly satisfied by either.

So that feeling of denim on denim isn't technically a fetish. But it is an insta-trigger for me. Two jeans-clad legs intertwining, feeling a hard cock behind a zipper, a strong hand squeezing my ass through my five-point back pocket... Wow. My pussy is literally throbbing.

It's so irrational. It would be amusing or laughable if I weren't having such strong sensory memories of making out in the back seat of a 10-year-old '78 Lincoln Continental listening to Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians. Oh hi, high school sweetheart who I still dream about all the time, how are you?

Or after my divorce, when I flew to Europe to try BDSM for the first time with an experienced Dom I'd grown to trust online. He stuffed a vibrating egg -- a quiet one with a controller attached with a cord -- between my panties and my jeans, then hog-tied me and played with the controller during a conference call. Being quiet isn't a strong point of mine. You may have noticed that. I managed to remain silent, barely, but I remember the sweat running down my neck from the strain of it.

So back to Evanston Crush - he started our relationship saying he wanted to sneak me under the bleachers at my college football stadium, so he has strong connections to my whole late-teen vibe. Then he responded to my denim appreciation with the most deliciously lustful groan. So I kept the jeans on, pressed a vibrator against them, and we played. His normal 20-30-minute ramp-up evaporated by minute 6 when he interrupted me to say "You got me already. Whew."

So. Irrationally. Happy. That outcome totally fed the part of me that wants to make my boyfriend happy with a perfectionistic co-dependence that has been mostly resolved by therapy. My Inner Business Woman was pissed off that I didn't drag out to 20 minutes, but we give her spreadsheets to track things and she was fine.

I like being 40, but the visit back to my relative youth was super fun.

P.S. Why yes, I would like a picture of you in jeans! Thanks!

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Empathic Metamorph Front Page

I saw that someone found my blog from searching "empathic metamorph" on Google. Makes sense, since I have a blog post named "Empathic Metamorph Then and Now".

Just for fun, I searched "empathic metamorph" on Google, and holy schnikees! My blog post is number seven on that search! That makes me irrationally happy! 

(side note: Yes, "holy schnikees" is a Chris Farley reference. May he rest in peace, and may he and Patrick Swayze be dancing at the Chippendale's in the great beyond when I join them someday.)

Delicious Distraction

Yesterday, I was all un-sexied because of concern about my mother's health. (update: she'll be fine - she talked me out of traveling unless they decide to do something invasive - right now she's just sitting in the hospital, bored, hydrating, and waiting another day to see if it resolves itself) I spent yesterday worrying myself into a frenzy before about 5 pm, which was completely unhelpful.

So to try to knock myself back into my normally happy place, I spent the evening chatting online with friends, doing laundry in case we need to travel, reading posts from PSO forums, browsing through others' phone sex listings, and making juvenile comments on friends' Facebook posts (one friend's entire post was "boobs" to amuse her son ... was I just supposed to leave that alone? of course not).

By about 10 pm, I was starting to feel a little clearer mentally, and a little more relaxed emotionally. I considered logging on, but decided not to push it.

And then in walked my husband, in his suit. With no shirt on under it. The black one. The one with the awesome smooth lapels that makes the suit almost look like a tux. He was trying it on because we might have a suit-worthy event if we do travel, and showing me that it fit him a little better than it used to.

Oh. My. God. Did it ever. My hands and mouth got all twitchy, and my tummy got all flippy, and I crawled across the bed to show him the effect it was having on me. One kneeling fluffer blow job later, we took the reconfigured Fuckatorium bed for a test ride -- turns out it is the perfect height for him to fuck me while kneeling beside it, with my legs wrapped around him and my ass almost hanging off the edge. And when that happens, turns out it hits this completely juicy spot inside me.

It was a perfect quickie - long enough for me to have a big, tasty, rolling orgasm, but not long enough to drain me of the energy I'd recovered. It was like a fuck-snack before bed. I slept better than I had in days.

This morning I woke up mulling about the sexy stories of mid-day naughtiness from my office cam buddy, hoping I can talk Doc into topping me today even though I shooed him away yesterday, wondering if I'd been too hard on a humiliation-seeking sub last time we talked, and where the hell is Agent Jones because my intrigue and espionage meters are getting dangerously low. And how to write the suit-fucking into the blog to give readers ideas...

Oh, hey, look at that, I'm back. Whew. I guess you can't keep a good Inner Slut down!

So today, I look forward to as many deliciously distracting calls as possible to keep my Inner Worry Wart at bay!

(Side note, thanks tons for the well-wishing notes from yesterday. Super super sweet. /sniffle)

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Dear Life: Be More Predictable

Dear Life:
Please be more predictable. It's bad enough that I can't predict how many phone sex calls I'll get, or what time of day is best to be logged in, or what difference it makes when I change the number of blog entries per week. But the least you could do is wait until things feel settled to toss in a family-related health crisis.
Love, 
Galiana

Dear Readers and Callers:

I may have to travel to Mom's if her doctor decides she needs surgery tomorrow - she's been in the hospital with an upper GI blockage for three days. It is almost certainly solve-able, and almost certainly not life-threatening.

However, as someone who worries too much about almost everything (I can't be perfect, right?), the situation is mucking with my ability to feel sexy. So I haven't been following my calendar. I'll update it to reflect a big, fat "Sorry, but I don't know."

How can you help? Well, financially, if you've ever had the urge to send me a Tribute, now would be a great time (click the "Pay a Tribute" link from that listing). Or buy pics from My Flirt Store. Or make sure you've left feedback on all your calls and purchases to help my listings stay well-ranked. Or listen to my recorded listing for at least 2 minutes, then leave me feedback (because although five people have listened to it, none have left feedback, so it's not showing up in the list of recordings yet, which is annoying). Any of those would be super-awesome.

Non-financially, I'd love your prayers / healing energy / good thoughts for Mom, and your prayers / calming energy / good thoughts for me. Or now would be a great time to drop me an email with a set up for our next fantasy - send some good fun play energy my way.

I will be logging in whenever I feel sexy. It will probably hit me suddenly, when Inner Slut has had enough of being ignored and says, "Fuck this being worried and feeling useless shit... Let's play!" Inevitably during times of stress, I get bursts of sexual energy. In those moments, the best way to help me is to call and give me orgasms! Yay escapism!

If you want to be notified when I'm on line with an email, let me know and I will do so happily (either an in-system email or to any email address you provide).

Sorry for lack of predictability. Thanks for your understanding. When I know anything for sure, I'll let you know.

Love,
Galiana

Dear Galiana,
I would try that, but... ummm... when exactly do "things feel settled"?
Love,
Life

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Business of Blogging

My post about the business side of being a PSO generated some interesting conversations and questions, so I thought I'd reveal some similar information about the blog.

I've been running this blog since Aug 15 (86 days). I've posted 162 posts, which is a little less than two / day.

The only ways to find the blog are: my NiteFlirt listing (over 90% of my traffic), stumbling into the blog from a search result related to one of my posts (less than 1% of my traffic), or Twitter (I tweet about blog posts from @GalianaChance where almost all my followers are PSOs, and then @FlirtBlogs automatically tweets when I have a new blog post).

There are lots of ways to drive traffic to a web site that I'm not doing. I don't advertise the blog. I don't strategically post comments on high-traffic sites. I don't run contests. I don't do anything to improve my search engine optimization other than label / tag my posts.

I usually get 150-200 page views per day, so it's not a high-traffic site by any normal web definition, but I'm really happy with it. It feels like a great start. I kind of like that it's still small enough for me to be able to tell when someone goes on a binge and reads my whole blog. I think about half my readers are potential callers, and the other half are phone sex operators -- that's a gut-level guess based on comments and emails. I know at least 20 callers who read regularly.

I've had Google ads enabled most of the time I've had the blog, and so far I have $1.44 from people clicking ads on my blog. I suspect all those clicks are from one reader who is being supportive (P.S. never click an ad unless you're actually interested -- honest advertisers deserve honest clicks).

Not $1.44 per day -- $1.44 total, which is a little less than 1.5 cents per day. 

So. Why do I keep up with the blog at this crazy pace when it's not even making enough to pay for Starbucks once per quarter?

I blog for me: I like having a place to store favorite memories. And I like having a place to "think out loud" about concepts which are gnawing at me; writing often helps me un-stick thoughts that are feel stuck. And I didn't want to lose the early impressions, the questions which will become answers, which will become assumptions, which are good to remember and question now and then. And, at its most practical, blogging between calls helps me stay in the right head-space more than any other between-call activity. 

I blog for you: You've told me you like the blog, and I like interacting with you around stuff I've written. It sometimes gives us fresh things to talk about when you call. When I'm puzzling over an idea, like when I was struggling with the word "whore", readers piped in with their perspectives on calls, and the interaction helped me. When a new caller says he's read my blog, I feel more confident that we're going to get along well, and I can almost guarantee it will be a fun call.

(Haven't called yet? Try not to be intimidated by that last sentence - the people who ask, "Was that boring / weird / unoriginal?" are usually the ones I have found the most fascinating and creative. Your fantasy may feel unoriginal to you because you've thought about it a lot, but chances are, there's some original twist in there somewhere. Also, if you're not in the mood to shoot for originality, you can always pick some toys and guide me to masturbate with them - I love those calls a lot. Oops. Now I'm totally off topic.)

Back to the interactions. I love putting something naughty in the blog and having a caller toss it back at me later, to use in their own play. I find it deeply gratifying when someone takes something they've learned about me and incorporates it into a fantasy. And I'm endlessly amused when callers tease me about getting in the blog:
Question: When are you going to put me in the blog?
Answer: I have no idea. My urge to write has a life of its own without a logical pattern. It feels like when I write fiction, and characters suddenly become insistent about their story lines. I write the ideas and stories that don't leave me alone. If I could predict that, I'd be a much better writer, that's for sure.
Joking Response: I'm not calling again until you put me in the blog!
Brat Counter-Response:  /giggle
My husband and I tried to figure out a way to monetize callers' urges to get in the blog, but all our ideas were stuff that would annoy us if someone else did it, so I didn't do any of them. I have some ideas of how to get more reader interaction, purely for my entertainment, but nothing bankable. I'll do them some day.

So, in conclusion: blogging can be very profitable, but not the way I do it. If you want a profitable blog, work on making your blog profitable, instead of using it to entertain yourself.