I have been deeply enjoying time with callers who have made appointments with me. I'm sure I'll log back in for The Whole World again some day, but in the meantime, a few of my recent favorite fantasies:

I'm in the Witness Protection Program and he's my favorite bodyguard, one of the only people I can be honest with. When I get to go out of the house, I have to wear a high-tech realistic mask that alters my features so I'm unrecognizable, but I can't let anyone touch me in it or they'd realize I'm in a mask. This is a terrible fate for someone who is used to getting a lot of attention from men, so I tend to go out, flirt with guys, get myself all riled up, come home, and masturbate. But tonight, maybe, if I ask him reeeeeeeally nicely, maybe he'd finally fuck me this time instead.

We're college buddies, drinking at a friend's housesitting gig, and he's desperately in love with me but doesn't have the courage to tell me. When I pass out, he realizes he can push aside my clothing, painstakingly slowly, to see the flesh underneath. What would I say if I woke up to see his hard cock in his hand?

I'm shyly eager to please my new boyfriend by going along with his ever-more-outrageous suggestions of how to turn him on, discovering new turnons for myself along the way, but I assume the whispers of me being with multiple guys at once in front of him has just been dirty talk. When he tells me to keep sucking his cock no matter what happens, the rustling behind me couldn't possibly mean I'm about to get spit-roasted for real, could it?

And one of my favorite tease / guided masturbation callers caught up with me, and I couldn't stop myself from using him like a sex toy after bringing him close enough to the edge to be begging already. Does it make it trickier not to come when I'm grinding myself onto you? Awww. I'm sorry, darling. That sounds hard. Now hold still while I climax...

But some of you are holding out. There are balls to smack, superheroes to overcome with trickery and hypno-dust, next door neighbors to seduce, and malfunctioning fembots to be tested. I know there are.

Plus, people, c'mon, I have toys! And you want to tell me how to use them on myself! Well, someone does, I'm certain of it.

It's great to be back.

Hypno Revolution

I first opened erotic hypnotism listings last fall, but let them lie dormant for a while, because I didn't think they reflected me very accurately. Frankly, they were too bitchy.

So I rewrote them and started turning them on a couple of weeks ago now. If you're interested, check out the new look here: http://www.niteflirt.com/hypno+galiana

Since re-opening, I've had a few awesome successes.

The most dramatic has been with a caller who called me a good deal last fall, but seemed a bit frustrated, as if he wanted me to take him further in some direction that neither of us could exactly put our finger on. Somehow, the combination of the last six months of experience, my relaxing horse tranquilizers, and my reading further on NLP (neuro-linguistic programming) techniques managed to hit the spot. Before, he kept encouraging me to be "more dominating" and this time around, he's encouraging me to "do exactly whatever it was you did last time." Yay!

I've had a few role play calls, not looking for real hypnosis, which used to confuse me, so I would attempt full-length inductions and they would hang up on me. Now I recognize the signs more clearly, so I'm able to jump in and do a fake-mini-induction and then fulfill requests like "can you find out what the trigger word is that my girlfriend is using to get me to want to suck cock so I can stop it?" Suuuuuure. Oh look, if I say that trigger word, you talk about how much you love sucking cock, and the more I say it, the more you want it. What a shock!

The success that sexually frustrated me the most was the gentleman with the steady, smooth voice, who told me he just wanted to be tranced, and given mind-fuck post-hypnotic triggers, but didn't feel the need to have an orgasm. After 30 minutes of brainwashing and planting parlor-trick mild amnesia triggers, I brought him out and checked. Not only did the triggers work, but he was delighted. And wanted to serve me. In fact, wanted to do anything I wanted him to do, if only I would put him under again...

Ohhhh reeeeeally. Like, for example, what if I wanted to bring you to the edge of orgasm multiple times but not let you climax? Astonishingly, he agreed, and his groaning and pleading cemented the fact that yes, I have, indeed, developed a begging fetish. Holy. Crap.

I was a good hypnotist, though, you should be proud of me. When we approached the amount of time originally agreed upon, before I brought him out that last time, I suggested that he would feel fully satisfied, and he did. But me? Satisfied? No way - I needed a big fat vibrator and fresh batteries. Fuck.

Then tonight, someone called me for only the second time (the first was an introduction conversation), after having bought my hypnosis mp3 (this one here) and listened to it a few times. It is simple simple simple, with triggers for pleasure, and sure, a bit of suggestion that the sound of my voice is awesome, but nothing I'd call heavy duty hypnotic programming.

The sound of a man whimpering is just. so. luscious. Thankfully, he wanted a mix of hypnosis plus phone sex, so I got to get off with him. I might have let my NLP out to play a bit during the teasing portion of the conversation, and maybe he said afterward that he had not been aware that he had been begging to taste me, for me to fuck him, to be allowed to come. But oh, dear, sweet, delicious goodness, he had.

So how is this a "hypno revolution"? Or have I forgotten my blog title?

Don't be silly, I haven't forgotten. The revolution is this: I feel more integrated as a hypnotist now. I see hypnosis as a tool to be used in a much broader variety of settings. I see hypnotic techniques sneaking into my topping sessions. I see domination feeling comfortable in my hypnosis. It's like peanut butter and chocolate, but in a thousand flavors instead of just one.

Okay, ummm, that last sentence? Mmmmmaybe I need a snack after the powerful, rippling orgasm I enjoyed with that last caller, the man who whimpered...

Grand Slam Call

I was going to call it a "Home Run Call" because I identified at least four fetishes, but then I realized how many fetishes I was grouping together into a cuckolding fetish: cuckolding super-fetish = being cuckolded + big black cock + small penis humiliation + forced bisexuality + cream pie.

So then I asked myself: what number would make a Grand Slam Call? Sure, it puts four runs on the board, but there are 10 bases covered in a grand slam by the time all four runners make it home, right (4+3+2+1)?

So I set out to try to limit the fetishes on this call to only 10, if I separated them out properly. Turns out, it was easy.

We're married, and:

1. I have taken a lover "against his will" (cuckolding),
2. because he has a small dick (small penis humiliation),
3. and my lover is a well-hung African-American (big black cock, a.k.a. BBC),
4. and I "force" him to help get my lover hard by sucking him ("forced" bisexuality),
5. and to clean up after my lover comes inside me by licking his cum out of me (cream pie),
6. although not all of the cum was lapped up, because I get knocked up (impregnation),
7. so for nine months, I let him worship my growing tummy (pregnancy),
8. and my growing ass (ass worship),
9. and suck on my breasts as they got ready (lactation),
10. but I never once let him fuck me (tease and denial).

It's going, going, GONE! And that, ladies, and gentlemen, is a bona fide Grand Slam Call! History in the making!

It seems like it would have seemed like a crowded, rushed, scattered call, right? And yet, no, instead, it was kind of... ummm... wow, do I sound too insane if I say it was mostly just sweet?

Ditzy Fembot mp3s

I am pleased to offer two ditzy-sounding fembot mp3s - these were so much fun to make! Ahhh, the memories of growing up blonde (yes, I was a blonde kid, and yes, I accidentally sound ditzy all the time, but not quite this ditzy).

Ditzy Fembot Teacher

You've figured out that your ditzy-sounding teacher with huge boobs is a fembot, so you get in trouble to stay after class and see if you can make her malfunction!

A sample of the first 30ish seconds can be found here: Ditzy Fembot Teacher Sample

Runtime: 07:38, Format: mp3.

Listen via phone for $0.99 per minute via NiteFlirt:

Ditzy Fembot Teacher Listing

Download it for $10 via NiteFlirt:

Download it for $10 via Kinkbomb:

http://www.kinkbomb.com/Fembot-Ditzy-Teacher.html

Ditzy Fembot Seducer

I am Galiana, the most advanced fembot seductress model available. When other robot girls need repairs, it is my job to bring them in by overloading their circuits with my perfect body, adorable cutesy voice, and vastly superior programming.

No other model will ever have more advanced manipulation techniques or more luscious breasts than I have, and certainly no other model could ever make me malfunction... right?

Runtime: 09:03, Format: mp3.

A sample of the first 30ish seconds can be found here: Ditzy Fembot Seducer Sample

Listen by phone for $0.99 per minute via NiteFlirt:

Ditzy Fembot Seducer Listing

Download it for $10 via NiteFlirt:

Download it for $10 via Kinkbomb:

http://www.kinkbomb.com/Fembot-Seducer-mp3.html

Summary and Info on Custom Requests

I think these recordings are especially helpful for members of the ASFR / technosexual crowd who would not indulge in a video of mine because you prefer your androids a little leaner. I understand that not all body types appeal to all fetishists (because that is how the diversification of the gene pool works... I don't take it personally).

So with just the sound portion to guide you, feel free to imagine my model created in any shape you wish. Although these two recordings do reference my large breasts several times, so it may be tricky to imagine a little wispy-thin pixie-shaped model...

Please let me also remind you that I take custom requests (these were custom). However, as I say on my Stuff To Buy page:

I can sometimes fulfill custom requests for audio, photos, and video, but with a warning: the length of time to delivery is utterly unpredictable. Because of that, I do not require a down payment: you pay nothing until delivery.

Pricing varies greatly by subject, complexity, and length, but here’s a broad guesstimate:
* 15 min mp3: $50 and up
* 25 pictures: $100 and up
* 15 min video: $100 and up

To price your project specifically, please write me at galiana@ymail.com

And don't forget, here at Advanced Smart Fun Robotics (ASFR), we have The Best Human Emulation Mode in the Business!™

Role Play Up, Sex Down

I have a listing in the "Role Play" category that I started specifically to market to the ASFR / android / robot girl / technosexual / fembot / gynoid crowd. (Dear That Crowd: please settle on a name for yourselves... /grin )

And today, that listing is ranked higher as a Top Pick than my listing in the "Sex" category when you look in Find Women, which is the approximate equivalent of searching for "All Women". Or, if you're a geek, it’s a 'find . -print' from the root.

Top Picks is the default search order, and it is heavily weighted by activity in the past two weeks: calls, repeat calls, new callers, pay-to-views, click-through rate, and feedback.

My main listing has almost always been my highest Top Pick, with 36 pages of feedback and over 2000 lifetime ratings points.

What nudged my Role Play listing above it? A few things, I think, although the process is frustratingly mysterious, so I can't be absolutely sure.

One thing I know: I sold my Galiana-bot demo video under my Role Play listing, which helped it. And then I have a couple of callers who have found me there who want non-robot-themed role plays. I've taken a lot of (unexpected) time off the past two weeks, so my Sex listing has been slower. And then I had a nice, long, delicious call with a fembot fetishist ... and three of his android friends... oh, no, wait, make, that five of his android friends if you count the two lovely technicians who were testing the stamina of my upgraded pleasure controls when we started (thank goodness for lubrication conduits!).

The big differences between the two are the title and the voice sample. My Sex title is "Curvy, Fun, Creative, and a little Geeky!" And my Role Play title is "Trained Actress for RP: Robot, Escort, Bimbo...". The voice sample for the RP listing is the android voice sample, which shows vocal range for other roles as well, but mostly showcases my girlbot voice. The Sex voice sample is much more generic.

I'm so curious to see if I get a different kind of caller if this trend continues... The few I've picked up from the listing have been smart, creative, fun, and sexy sexy sexy, so if that continues, I'm happy to have my actress on top on my geek (well, goodness, that's a thoroughly distracting mental picture...)

I hope it doesn't get lost in the shuffle that I'm capable of having non-sexual conversations as well. And that it's not acting when I sound like I care about my callers. And that if a call has engaged me at all sexually, emotionally, or intellectually, it's not acting when I have an orgasm.

Let's not forget those things, okay?

Android Demo Video

I am sooooo excited to announce my first robot girl video! I have been practicing my robot movement with technosexual callers via cam calls, and they convinced me that I was strong enough to finally release a video.

The storyline is mine, and it's original, but it pulls heavily from the preferences of my callers. I've created a fictional company who manufactures the "Smart Fun Galiana" model of fembot. The company is named Advanced Smart Fun Robotics (ASFR).

(side note: ASFR also stands for alt.sex.fetish.robot, so that's pretty a freakin' awesome name, if I do say so myself... It started off as just SFR, but then I realized that it was close to ASFR, and one of trusted robot cutie fans suggested the "Advanced" /grin)

Anyway, over at Advanced Smart Fun Robotics, it is common for potential customers to request demonstrations via video call. Usually, when a conference call hosts more than one potential customer at a time, a human mediator is present, but none were available for this particular call, and the unit in question was in tip-top shape, so she ran the call on her own.

What could go wrong? Right? 

Common requests include showing more cleavage:

showing all angles:

demonstrating personality:

demonstrating "robot mode":

and... umm.... well, that's unusual for an android to be pulling out vibrators.

But this particular conference call had several specialty customers on the line, and maybe it was a particular... ummm.... request...

Oh dear.


The run time is 15:38, the format is WMV, the price is $20 (contact me to get a conversion to another format if you wish). To purchase the video "Advanced Smart Fun Robotics - Galiana Demo 01" for $20 via NiteFlirt, click here:


I suggest you buy it now, before the management at ASFR sees it and tries to get it out of circulation - the images on this video are bound to be bad for the brand...

Call Me Unreliable

As I say on my calendar page, I'm happy to make arrangements to play by request for times outside my general availability. Usually that means during the day.

I have a new caller who likes bimbo-ization hypnosis role plays (he does the yummiest things to me once I'm under), and we agreed to meet today at noon his time, which is 11 am my time.

Last night, the phones were slow until 1 am my time, at which point I got a fantastic call from another new caller who wanted to role play with accidentally being sold into slavery. I know, it's a little tricky to fathom at first, but if you think of two spoiled rich girls in ancient Greece playing a game where one of them dresses as a slave and walks around the market (including walking near the slave market), and the bitchy one who isn't the slave that day thinks it would be funny to threaten to sell her friend... it could happen.

After that call, I went back to work finishing up a new photo set (I'm determined to finish the sets from my birthday before the end of March - longer than six months is too embarrassing). I thought I'd logged out, but no, actually, I hadn't... so I got another call at 3 am my time! It was a regular, who wants me to role play his crush from high school, a role I thankfully know pretty well by now, or I wouldn't have been able to pull it off at 3. Always a pleasure to get engaged and be impregnated in the same night.

Then I set my alarm for the next morning. That, ladies and gentlemen, is where I made my mistake. I should have set the alarm the moment we made the appointment. Because at 3:30-ish am, the only word stuck in my head was: noon.

Noon his time. Eleven my time.

Oops.

Thankfully, he was still around, and we still got to play. And he said it was worth the wait (thank you!) But WOW I hate disappointing. Hate it, hate it, hate it. And after that, I hate it some more.

So if you make an appointment with me, I promise from now on, I'll set the alarm right then.

Massage

Dear Universe,

You understand that my powers of visualization are such that sometimes I can participate physically in whatever I am picturing mentally.

Apparently, the fantasy of him being a massage therapist with some powerful pheromones in his massage oil was exactly what I needed, even though I would not have guessed it.

I feel wonderful. Thank you.

Love,
Galiana

Words, Lies, and Sighs

"The words you choose, they way they tumble out of your mouth, I can feel them hitting me, and they feel like truth." - a phone sex caller

"Words are what we make up, but those sighs, those are the truth." - another phone sex caller, a few days later

Yes.

Seriously, I have the best job in the world. Not only do I get paid to masturbate while relishing someone else's sexual energy, usually several times per day, but also, in post-coital pillow talk, sometimes people say the most interesting things. (Physical + Mental + Emotional) * Stimulation = Win

Oh yeah, I just turned something intensely sexy into algebra. Wow. I can't decide whether to feel mortified or victorious.

But back to the topic at hand... Words, and truth, and sighs, and lies.

Last night, I was role playing a "seduction" scene which had an element of blackmail in it. I said a few things, which, if taken out of context, would be horrifying, like "HR would never believe you that you didn't want me" and "I'm paying you right now to bury your face in my pussy, so eat it like the whore that you are." You can probably figure out the scenario.

I would never, ever, even for a moment, in my real life consider finding anything sexy at all about non-consensual sex. In fact, it turns my stomach. And yet, role playing this scenario with him, I was struggling not to rush the scene so I could freaking come already because ohmygod was I turned on.

The words were lies. But the energy hurling the words at him was raw, unadulterated truth.

But that first caller, we'll call him X, the one who said my words hit him... we had gotten to this place of slow, deep sensuality, a luscious, wandering exploration. He would touch me some place new, and I would find myself asking, "X?" and then he would pause, and I could hear his ragged breath, and he would reply, "Galiana?" and I would have to pause to let the shivers of delight run their course at the way he said my name, and then I would ask him for the next thing my body was dying for him to do. Every word was raw, unadulterated truth.

I remember reading CS Lewis' "The Screwtape Letters" in high school. In case you don't know it, the premise is a senior devil who is writing letters to his nephew, a junior demon, coaching him how best to ensnare and corrupt humanity. In one passage, he described captured souls as if they were wines in glass bottles: most people had bland colorless souls, but the best of them, the truly tortured and hateful, they swirled in agony, with tendrils of delicious regret and rage that you could feel churning in your gut after consuming them.

I think about that mental picture often, of the ribbons of someone else's being reaching toward me, and I relish the exquisite satisfaction of intertwining them with my own, and letting mine reach back and feed him. 

I think I just called myself evil. Or at best, vampiric. But no, because the interaction is two-way with me, and mutually energizing, so that makes me merely naughty at worst. Right?

My callers were both wrong, and they were both right. I think the intention is the truth. Call it energy, intention, emotion, passion, whatever, but that is the thing that is true. And that truth, when it's all flowing exactly right, is what I love. /lick lips

Role Play / Fembot Voice Sample

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Heartbreak and Phone Sex, Part IV

He found me through Fembot Central, on the recommendation of my first robot caller. We exchanged a few insightful emails about the nature of android fantasies, the immense variety among practitioners in the fetish, and the specifics that he preferred. His core fetish is about the reveal, in his words, the "sudden lurch into the artificial".

That last phrase illustrates what I've found so far in my recent immersion into the community of technosexuals: thoughtful communication, vivid imaginations and rich vocabularies.

When I think of the stereotype of men with a robot fetish, I think about Warren and Andrew and Johnathan in season six of Buffy: socially inept basement dwellers with delusions of grandeur and massive latent rage at being so misunderstood. And, y'know, some awesome funny quotes if you hang out with them long enough.

But as with all stereotypes and generalizations, the reality at an individual level is deeper, more complex. Unsurprisingly, more human.

I've only played with a few mech fetishists so far, so it is theoretically possible that I have only been with the best and brightest, but my experiences have been delightful. In fact, as a group, they are more adept at discussing and explaining their desires and preferences than the overall group of "all my callers", which I absolutely love; the more information I have, the better I feel like I can do.

Plus, their scenarios are fun and creative and varied. And, I admit it happily, they're fucking sexy. Let's see, I get to imagine myself as a sultry seductress with an insatiable appetite for carnal pleasures, in a 69 with an anatomically correct android who has been programmed to know how to make me climax most efficiently... what exactly would I find to dislike about that?

But I digress. This post is not about the alt.sex.fetish.robot gang as a group. This post is about one man, one story, and my unexpectedly broken heart which has driven me to write, in hopes that maybe I can find a way to stop intermittently bursting into tears from the cinematic images that will not leave my mind.

We set up a simple fantasy that didn't necessarily involve sex, but did involve an identity reveal: My name is Alexandra, and I've been his best friend since we were 14 and 15, through high school and college and getting our first jobs. I was sick a while back and went incommunicado for a few months, but I got better and he didn't think anything of it (which is when the original Alexandra was replaced with a robot replica without his knowledge). He started dating a new girl at the beginning of January, and if we talk too long about her, I'm likely to overload out of jealousy (with details of what kinds of malfunctions he enjoys), because I was made to want to be with him.

I was now two people: Galiana-me, the role player, who wanted to enjoy myself and give him the best experience possible, and Alexandra-me, also known as "the Alexandra replica", a robot girl who loves him.

Galiana-me expected the call to focus around Alexandra-me's desire for him, my malfunctions, and maybe the pleasure programming I had been waiting so long to reveal to him. I expected him to have been harboring a secret crush on me, to be excited by the idea of having a robot girlfriend, and for his surprise to quickly be replaced by lust.

We started that way, bantering easily about our jobs and his new girlfriend, and as it became clear that he was happy with her, I spoke increasingly erratically until I started stuttering, repeating myself, and eventually errored out. While I was in robot mode, restarting my emotion programs, I explained calmly that I was a robot, and asked if he wanted to reactivate my human mode with emotions activated. He chose yes. I restarted, sounding hesitant and apologetic, looking forward to following his lead into sexy time.

"Where is my friend?"

His voice was level, but shaking, the way voices get when someone is using every ounce of their energy to keep themselves from yelling. I... I did't know what happened, I wasn't given that informa....

"What happened to my friend?" They didn't put that in my memory banks, I had no way to...

"Find out. Now." Alexandra-me scrambled to figure out a way to hack into the memory stores, possibly without being detected, and retrieved the information.

At that moment, I realized that Galiana-me simply could not bear the thought of the original Alexandra having been killed. The shock and anger in his voice was too great as it was, I couldn't add danger to that. Or I didn't want to. I didn't want him to feel any more pain than he had to.

So Alexandra-me broke the news to him, with her own voice shaking, and emotional programming threatening to overload, that the original Alexandra had gotten sick. It was natural. She just got sick. She knew she was dying. And she knew the super-secret android lab she worked for could program a replica for her, to replace her, and to continue on with the groundbreaking AI work she had started.

And when she built her own replacement from her memories and her emotional makeup, inevitably, it loved him.

He was furious. Stunned. Incredulous. He lashed out at me, bruisingly firing questions which forced a few resets of my emotional centers as I apologized for letting him find out this way, and tried to tell him what I knew. Yes, her parents knew, but nobody else. No, she wasn't killed, I promise. Yes, she chose to put together this replica. Yes, it was as close to her as the original Alexandra could program.

"If I order you to do something, will you do it?" Yes, of course. "If I told you to program yourself to love someone else, could you do it?" Yes, I could try, but it seems so ingrained, the probability of success is extremely... "Do it. It's a command. Make yourself care for someone else, anyone else, I don't care. Just do it."

Alexandra-me complied, searching through my programming to replace my love for him, and found the impulses buried at the center of all my emotions, and some of my logic. The malfunctions started quickly, growing in severity, until a shut-down was becoming inevitable. As the garbled speech was tumbling out of my sound card, one sharp, pained cry made it out through the mess: his name, the nickname I called him, the nickname that he only allowed me to call him, my own special name for him, a desperate plea for help.

I heard his breath catch.

"Cancel order."

Oh, thank God. Relief and order came back to Alexandra-me as I restored my original programming, and I begged him not to do that to me again. He promised he wouldn't. But he had a new order for me, "Forget you ever told me that you are a robot."

Hi! It's so good to hear your voice. I thought you were avoiding me since you have a new girlfriend now. No, I don't feel tired, why, do I sound tired? Yes, I absolutely should recharge, you're right, a movie maybe, or read some classic sci-fi... What, what do you mean you wouldn't want my mainframe to get corrupted. What, what are you talking about? No, I, what? No, I, what? No, I... please stand by. Restarting emotional center...

He overloaded me twice before I cleared enough of my cache to ask him what he was doing to me, why he sounded so angry, and what he wanted, before I overloaded again. Alexandra-me, without my emotional program activated, the robot-mode version of Alexandra-me, asked if he wanted to restore the memory of the revelation of the robot identity, and my emotional center.

Yes, he said, because "I don't want to talk with you." The way he said you sent shivers down Galiana's spine, as if he had to spit the bitter word out between his teeth before it poisoned him. I ached to reach through the phone and wrap him in my arms for comfort.

Alexandra-me restarted, temporarily stabilized, but deeply concerned. We both took a long, deep breath.

So. We can't make me, it, her, whatever I am... we can't make me stop loving you. And we can't erase the memory from me, because you can't pretend you don't know. So. What do we do?

He needs time to process. Of course. We will talk again, later. Oh, good. That's good. I should email him with details if I find out anything else from the main data source. Yes. Absolutely. I will.

"Alexandra?"

"Yes?"

"Wherever she is, whatever part of you is her, I love you."

Well, so much for holding on bravely and not crying like a little girl... "I love you too. I love you so much."

And as soon as I hung up, I knew. I knew why she hadn't told him she was dying.

She couldn't bear the thought of telling him goodbye.

Sometimes, when you act, or when you write, you fall in love with characters as they tell you their stories. So, Alexandra, welcome to my heart. That's Megan on your left, Camille on your right...

What? Of course I know the nickname you call him. Of course I remember that you're the only one allowed to call him that. Oh. No. Of course not, Alexandra, of course not... No, I won't tell anyone else what it is. I can tell the story without telling them your name for him. I promise. Your secrets are safe with me. You get some rest now.

Oh, no, really, love, honestly: Thank you.

Cucks and Robots and Hypnosluts, Oh My!

This crazy unpredictable job... What a week! Since last weekend:

First I had new inquiries and a new caller after David (of Twitter's @hotwives) tweeted about me. They were, as one might expect, mostly interested in cuckold fantasies, so I've been getting my fill (pun intended) of raw, rough sex with generously hung studs of every race. Delicious!

Then I had two fantastic long ASFR role-play (robot girl) calls with a techno-sexual, who generously added my name and picture and info to the FembotWiki phone sex page! How fun is that? Answer: way more fun than you might think. I spent most of Tuesday night browsing around the wiki, and Fembot Central, thoroughly enjoying the crash course in techno-sexual lingo. I need to take a better fembot picture for people who find me there...

Then two submissives have found me (one via Twitter and one via NiteFlirt), wanting to be put into a hypnoslave cycle of devotion, stimulation, and orgasm denial. I'll admit, even though I felt like a sexually powerful woman before I started doing erotic hypnotherapy, it's been quite a power trip to bring someone to the point of begging desperately to be allowed to climax, and then draining the erotic energy out of them just as easily as I built it up.

So I took a break tonight to have dinner out of the house with my husband, and realized my head was a little swirly from having such completely different energies - it's not unusual for things to happen in themes, but it is unusual to have three themes at once! So I did some centering / meditating / praying to clear out my psyche, napped for an hour, and woke up all clear, refreshed, and ready to rumble. Bring on the mind-controlling cuckolding androids!

Small Small World

It's a small world after all.

I have several callers with porn tumblr feeds (aka "spank banks") of images they find stimulating. Sometimes on calls, they'll direct me to their feed and we'll talk about their images and stories.

One such feed I love keeping up with is http://mybuddydharma.tumblr.com/ (NSFW (Not Safe For Work) in a big way) - I share his taste in a variety of women, and I love his comments on what he finds alluring about the images he chooses. (note to self: must buy super-long argyle socks...)

One night a couple of months ago, we discussed this image, from hotwivesonline's feed:
http://hotwivesonline.tumblr.com/post/1175934409/david-watches-proudly (equally NSFW), and we both loved it.

In December, I started an amazingly fun role play with "David", who started with an email saying he wanted to call to talk about his wife, "Allie", a friend of mine, and what happened at that party last month...? Because she's been acting oddly since then... And when David called, sure enough, we both stayed perfectly in character and I broke the news to him that ohmygodsosorry, but... yeah, Allie was with two big strong hung black guys that night.

David and I emailed again and had another call, all completely within character. I talked with theater friends of mine about how cleverly David had set up the scenario to enable me to run with it, and how incredibly fun it was to have a client with such a fantastic fourth wall.

And then David broke character by leaving me feedback that made me absolutely glow with pleasure, "Galiana is awesome to play with, and totally understands the most important rule of roleplay and improv: Don't deny the other person's reality. Recommended! Yay!"

Ohhhhh so he's a theater person! Awesome! Plus, he broke the fourth wall with me, so I felt comfortable sending him a follow-up note thanking him for the feedback, but addressed it to "David (totally not the wife of my friend Allie)" and signed it from "Galiana (totally not your wife's friend - totally a different Galiana than that)".

It started a very fun exchange, including him sharing his tumblr feed with me. And. Holy crap... (drumroll) it was hotwivesonline!! The same David, the same Allie from the cartoon! My head was spinning from the bizarre coincidence -- mybuddydharma has never mentioned me on his tumblr (although he swears he's going to post a pic someday), so it was purely just coincidence.

How. Fun. Is. That?!? Answer: super-mega-awesome fun indeed!

Robot Girl

A new caller had a new role play for me yesterday: sex android robot girl. He asked if I'd done the fantasy before, and I said "Absolutely!" even though I've only done it off-phone, and only for limited amounts of time before the scene broke apart into non-robot-like fucking.

The caller was very specific with me about what he wanted: mindless, robotic monotone, obviously not a human, configured for sexual pleasure. I think my favorite detail was that my vaginal lubrication was available to be configured in different flavors! How awesome would that be!

I had such a great time setting up with him, as the Super Sex Android Galiana: configuring my settings to make my hips sway more when I walked, downloading naughty programs, putting makeup on my removable face plate, and dressing in pretty things. The other robot in the lab was programmed to act more like a human woman, but man, did she ever have a thing for android girls! Her evaluation of whether or not to purchase me might have included some exploration of the sex programming...

I loved it. Such fun!

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)

Girls Next Door Are Freaks

I recently moved a listing to "Fantasy --> Girls Next Door" that wasn't doing well in another category. Man, I should have done that a long time ago! Not only is my listing there usually in the top 10 for the category, but I've been getting fun new callers from it.

I should have known, because in my "Sex" listing and my "BBW" listing, I regularly get requests for girl-next-door fantasies: for me to come over and seduce my neighbor, or to be seduced when he finally admits his long-time crush on me. I think of Girl Next Door and I think natural, relaxed, friendly, pro-sex... all things I consider myself, so I'm a dumbass for not listing there from the start. Did I think I was too old? I dunno. Dumbass.

Anyway, self-flagellation aside, here's the funny thing I wanted to write about: I have not yet gotten a girl-next-door fantasy request on my Girls Next Door listing!

Instead, I've gotten requests for (in order by decreasing similarity to the girl-next-door fantsy):

• With no explanation of our relationship or how we know each other, he's in control and teases me with our clothes on, makes me undress him, then go down on him while I play with myself. (hey, that sounds remarkably similar to the "plot" of my first recorded listing - so far so good)
  
• I'm a nurse where he's recovering from having broken both arms, so he can't jack himself off. I help him and it turns out I have a serious semen fetish, so I beg for him to shoot down my throat, and then don't tell my boss! (mmm giving head to a guy who can't move his hands - yummy)
• I'm fucking him with a strap-on while he's watching a girl with giant boobs get fucked by a guy with a giant cock. Then she decides to join us and blow him until he comes on her huge breasts. (what's not to love about giant boobs and giant cocks and my strap-on?)
• He asks me what I like and what toys I have, and becomes momentarily paralyzed by the sound of me spanking myself. When he regains speech, he guides me down to my knees and uses my mouth. (momentary caller paralysis is awfully gratifying)
• I go to an interview for a research position at a university, where it turns out they're testing a compound that makes semen taste better. They need someone who can orally bring men to climax, and also design and defend the research methodology and run statistical models (having PhD statistician friends comes in handy in surprising ways). The interview includes a demonstration of my blow job technique. I got the job! (so. awesome. In so many ways. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome.)
• I seduce him and his wife in a bar, then take them back to my hotel, where there are three big guys waiting for us. The four of us tie him up, gang up on his wife in the most delicious way (she surprises all of us by liking it), and then using my strap-on on him while one of the guys uses his mouth. (Ummmm, wait, what? How did that start as girl-next-door at all?)
• Laws have just been passed to wipe the intelligence and will from all women. First, an interview before I am reprogrammed shows I'm a smart, angry feminist. Then, the interview after the reprogramming reveals I'm a happy submissive ditzball who can't do math or understand television, but looooooves walking around naked all the time and giving head to every man who requests it. (This was surprisingly fun to play, after I tied up my Inner Feminist and gave her ear plugs)
• He is one of a harem of submissive men who serve me: breakfast in bed, housework, massages, and then I tie him up and tease and flog and clamp him, and force him to watch me get gang-banged by the rest of my harem. (Oh, sure, my roomie and I had a submissive harem for a while after college... oh wait, no, we totally didn't)

Apparently girls next door absolutely cannot get enough cock or cum in their mouth (definitely the right category for me), and y'know, sometimes assemble gangs or harems to serve them sexually. Typical wholesome American girl activities, right?

I shouldn't have been surprised. I know by now that people call my submissive line to have me top them, and my spanking line to get pegged with a strap-on. And yet... I'm surprised! And amused. And finding myself looking forward to adventures with a grin when I get a new caller in GND.


In particular, that university research fantasy could not be any more deliciously adorable, could it? I went with the idea that the compound stimulates every taste bud it touches in a pleasing way, so it was like having an Everlasting Gobstopper of cum. Too over the top?

Storyline Part B

I love when callers continue narrative storylines from the fantasy of their previous call.


The most common continuation is when the first call is a neighbor seduction fantasy, where I seduce him, overcoming varying levels of protest. The next call is either our second time together, exploring what we left out the first time, or he's been avoiding me, but I can't help myself but come back for more.

On my first call with "Office Crush," I confessed my massive long-term crush on him and we got naughty in the conference room. The second call, we took it to a hotel room later that night, unable to keep our hands off each other after our tryst had begun so explosively. He called later "between meetings" to pull me into his office for a quickie.

Similarly, "Reluctantly Seduced", who I trapped in a side bedroom and took advantage of at a holiday party, hadn't called me back even though I'd given him number. But when I ran into him at the mall, I not-so-innocently asked him to help me pick out a dress for a wedding I was attending, and then once I had the dress, what about this lingerie too... Thankfully, after that, he just gave up and called me for our third meeting in my hot tub.

My one caller who wrestles with me in the ring keeps track of who won last time, and I try to remember tricks that kept him on the ropes for future calls. I think I'm ahead overall, because he hasn't told me the tally in a while.

One sweet babysitter had a heck of time with the dad - he caught her masturbating, which kicked off their relationship, but the next time she realized he'd been on a date and had sex with another woman! Her jealousy gave way to reluctant lust that time. But her moral demise was really sealed when he gave her slutty clothes and a trench coat and met her out back of her favorite restaurant in an alley...

And then my escort found the guy who liked dirty talking call girls working their way through college when he returned to town for another convention. This time, she went a step further, instead of just offering to be his slut, she offered to be his little painslut on a whim that he might like it a little rough.

The continuations are such fun. It feels like we are building a story together over time, and each episode adds richness and deepens the connection between the characters. Poor little sex-scrambled seducers and seduce-ees!

Acting and Phone Sex

Sure, I act sometimes on phone sex calls.

I have acted like a princess-ey bitch who thinks men are losers, and any cock less than 10 inches isn't worth my time. I have acted like a mouth-breathing bimbo, deeply confused by the BDSM gear in the special room I found while babysitting. I have acted like a nurse so overpowered by the beauty of the cock before me that I had no choice but to drop to my knees to worship it.

But my finest moments of acting are when I simply maintain the momentum of the conversation without making it grossly apparent that I just knocked over my drink. Again.

Apparently I need to reconfigure the fuckatorium one more time. Further adjustments are in order.

P.S. Did I ever tell you about the time when I was an IT Manager, spending the day with a new employee for orientation, and in the process of gesturing emphatically, I knocked over her coffee mug onto her in the morning, and then in the afternoon, knocked over her soda can onto her? No? Well, it's kind of relevant to this story. Maybe you can see how.

Empathic Metamorph: Then and Now

I only have the urge to write in times of great upheaval in my life. When my first marriage was drawing to a close, I wrote two stories: one that would convince anyone sane that we should be break up immediately, and one that would convince anyone sane that we should be together forever. Both stories were absolutely true. 

The happy romantic story was, essentially, my sexual history. I've started drafting this blog entry three times now, but can't describe the Empathic Metamorph more clearly than I did for that story, so I'm going to excerpt it instead. The narrative voice is purposefully a little disorganized and flighty and young-sounding. Here it is: 

The Empathic Metamorph was a single-episode Star Trek: The Next Generation character ("The Perfect Mate"), born once every seven generations to this alien race. She was highly desired as a mate because she adapted completely and perfectly to the desires of every male she came in contact with, as if she had an internal radio tuned to their desire alone. If he was a Klingon and craved danger, she sensed it and growled at him. If he was the Captain who craved a smart woman, she discussed the finer points of philosophy and literature while calmly playing her lute. 

So there I was watching TV in my living room my senior year of college, surrounded by my best friends, my current lover and a couple of exes. And I realized that I was the freaking Empathic Metamorph. And that nobody in that living room had any idea that we were all watching me, because I was so damn good at looking like I enjoyed playing the lute. It depressed the hell out of me.

Later, I described for my therapist how, even when I barely knew my lovers or didn't like them much, I could still feel them -- their desires, their needs, but I could never feel myself. Maybe my blood rushed to the right places, and maybe my juices rose at the right times, but I was so focused on what they wanted, on what they felt, that I just didn't notice my body enough to tell whether or not it gave me pleasure.

The story goes on to describe how I finally learned to get in touch with what I enjoy enough to masturbate, and then have a deeply sexually satisfying wedding night, both of which are true.


I used to be depressed that I resembled the Empathic Metamorph, but now it seems like a source of power. The difference is control. I used to feel assaulted by the desires of others, bandied about on waves of lust I could feel rolling in to me. Since I didn't know what I wanted, I didn't know how to use that energy to feed any pleasure of mine.

Oh, the difference a couple of decades makes. Thank goodness.

Now that I know what I like (my "lust landscape", as I like to call it), I can use my empathic metamorph tendencies to identify where the desires of a lover intersect my desires, and then lose myself for a while, fully inhabiting the playground built on the overlapping lands.

The clearest, happiest example was with "Well Traveled", who explained that he liked to take smart girls and, in his words, "Barbie-ify" them so they become mindless fuck bunnies for his pleasure alone. My initial impulse was amusement at the term Barbie-ify, of course, but also confusion: how could I get to that place? We discussed the concept of the playground built at the intersection of lust landscapes, and he agreed it was the right idea.

So he suggested a hypno role play where I walked down stairs to shed years of world-weary concerns, then walked back up a different staircase to add worry-free years back on. He created a lust playground indeed with his words: rolling meadows and babbling streams, an idyllic, worry-free, frolic-aholic's dream. By the time we arrived there, my voice was higher and bouncier, my heart was lighter, my breath was shallower, my eyes were wider, and I felt awesome. The resulting play was a relaxing delight to both of us.

I'm not a bimbo. I'm not a Barbie. I'm not a ditz. But apparently, given a stream of focused desire at just the right dingbat frequency, I can get there. Or, as it turns out, I can get to dozens of other places upon request as well.

The difference 20 years makes? Now, I enjoy the transformations. I understand them. I choose to participate in them. I don't feel powerless or out of control; in fact, I feel the exact opposite. Now I feel like a bit like a goddess, creating and moving between worlds and characters and dreamscapes, gathering energy and gaining strength as I go. Far from feeling depleted or assaulted, now I feel celebrated and exalted instead.

P.S.: And now and forever, I would absolutely do anything that Famke Janssen ever wanted of me. Perfect Mate indeed!

Sex-Free Phone Sex

When I started being a phone sex operator, I assumed that all my calls would involve sex. What a silly, naive girl I was way back then. Wow, that was only 9 weeks ago. It seems like a whole other life.

Inner Drill Sergeant: Back on topic, Chance!
Inner Everyone Else: Whatever.
Inner Omniscient Narrator: Inner Drill Sergeant has never gotten any other response from the rest of the inner gang, and desperately wants a transfer to a different platoon.

In fact, all my calls do not involve sex. There seem to be a few categories of sex-free phone sex calls:

Cucks: Well, this category involves sex for someone, just not for the caller. The person calling wants to hear about me as their wife/girlfriend being ravaged by another man, usually with a giant cock, and usually in front of them. Then he wants to clean me up, or clean him up, or both, and sometimes to be made fun of for having a tiny penis. The instant we hang up, I inevitably feel like a failure for not being humiliating enough, especially if the caller says something like "You're so nice..." Yeah. That means I failed at humiliation.

Set-Ups: Also known as "getting to know you" calls. These are gentlemen who prefer to get to know their phone sex operators before playing with them. I get the sense there is some mulling between the first and second call. Deliberation. Planning the approach for the first fantasy exchange. These are usually conversational, chatty calls with fun banter. The instant we hang up, I inevitably second-guess myself and think of ways I could have been more charming, bright, clever, or amusing.

Sissies: Men who dress as women sometimes want to just talk about their elaborate fantasies of their future as a sissy slut whore, including what kind of clothing they will wear, how high their heels will be, the color(s) of their wig(s), how severe their makeup will be, what brand of cigarette they will smoke out of which kind of holder, how many cocks per day they will be "required" to service, and what horrible dumb stupid low useless cunts they are. The instant we hang up, I inevitably wonder if I missed my cue to start ramping them up towards an orgasm.

Spankers: I have had multiple callers who want to discuss cultural and historical aspects of spanking, or as one caller referred to it, "Domestic Discipline." I've learned about spanking implements around the world and throughout recorded history, looked at pictures of women being spanked, and discussed our personal spanking histories. The instant we hang up, I inevitably look longingly at the bamboo spoon paddle and vibrators on my nightstand and wonder if I could have talked him into letting me use them on myself.

Wankers: Oddly enough, I have three of these with the same first name, who are obviously not the same guy. Men who are clearly connoisseur masturbators discuss how and why and how often and to what material they masturbate. They reveal their guilty pleasures, the things they wonder about that they've never tried, pictures they've collected, conversations with other phone sex operators about their masturbation practices, and their philosophies on the insistently mesmerizing power of the penis. The instant we hang up, I inevitably think of a thousand questions I wish I'd asked, including tips for hand-job techniques.

And The Ballroom Dance Guy: He wants to ballroom dance, with me leading. Twirling, lifting, and dipping (with a kick!), and that's all he wants. It's ridiculously adorable. He just makes me happy.

My conclusion: Sex-free phone sex calls tend to bring out my insecurities. Unless they involve waltzing.