Hotline Desires

Five

The office always smelled faintly of cheap vanilla candles and expensive perfume. It was intentional—management said it helped “set the mood,” like men could smell seduction through the phone. Personally, I thought it was ridiculous. But hey, if a little Bath & Body Works was paying my bills, who was I to complain?

I tossed my bag on my desk and slid into my chair, headset already waiting for me like an eager little pet. The red light on the console blinked steadily, reminding me that someone, somewhere, was horny enough to pay $3.99 a minute just to hear a stranger moan in their ear.

Maya leaned over her divider with her usual grin, lips glossed cherry red. “Bet you a shot later I get the first big spender.”

“You’re on,” I smirked, booting up my screen. “But don’t fake an orgasm this time. Last night you sounded like a dying seal.”

Lola, across the aisle, burst out laughing. “She’s not lying, Maya. I had to mute myself before I choked on my water.”

“Jealous bitches,” Maya shot back, already slipping on her headset.

The phone blinked. My first caller of the day. Showtime.

I pressed the line. “Mmm, this is Jade. What can I do for you, baby?”

The man’s voice cracked. Young. Nervous. “Uh, h-hi. I’ve never done this before.”

I smiled to myself. Fresh meat. The awkward ones were always fun if you played it right. “Don’t worry,” I purred, lowering my tone. “I’ll take good care of you. Tell me, what do you usually think about when you’re alone?”

There was a pause, then a rushed whisper: “Cheerleaders.”

I bit back a laugh. Predictable. “Lucky you, I look great in a short skirt. You want me on the field, pom-poms in hand, bent over while the crowd cheers?”

His breathing hitched audibly. “Yes.”

I leaned back, twirling a pen between my fingers as I guided him through his fantasy. Easy money. Within minutes, he was panting into the receiver, clumsy and loud, and when it was done I ended the call with my best soothing whisper. “Good boy.” Click. Balance updated.

Maya peeked over again. “Cheerleaders?” she mouthed.

“Bingo.” I grinned.

The phone lit again almost immediately. Call number two.

This time, a woman’s voice. Smoky, nervous but curious. “I… I don’t really know how this works. Can I… can I just talk to you?”

That piqued my interest. I shifted in my chair, lowering my voice into something intimate. “You can talk to me about anything you want, sweetheart. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

She exhaled shakily. “I’ve… never been with a woman before. But I think about it a lot.”

My thighs pressed together instinctively. The female callers always hit different. “You’re safe here,” I murmured, letting warmth bleed into the act. “Close your eyes and imagine me leaning in, whispering against your ear. Do you want me to kiss you, baby?”

Her soft gasp was answer enough.

The call stretched longer than usual, both of us caught in the hum of her tentative confessions and my playful encouragement. By the time she hung up, my own body was restless, humming with leftover tension.

I removed my headset, exhaling slowly. Another day, another few calls. Yet I couldn’t shake the edge under my skin. Sometimes, these strangers’ voices lingered like ghosts.

And sometimes, I wondered what it would feel like if one of them could actually keep up with me.

I shook it off, plastering a smile back on my face as Lola rolled her chair over, waving a bag of chips. “Lunch break, slut?”

“Only if you’re buying,” I shot back.

We laughed, the noise of ringing phones and moans in the background blending into the rhythm of my life.

After lunch, the office had that lazy hum—half the girls scrolling socials, half pretending to prep notes for the next wave of callers. I was still nibbling at Lola’s leftover fries when the glass doors swung open.

“Meeting. Conference room. Now.”

Victor Cole didn’t need to raise his voice. He had that kind of presence where the air shifted the moment he stepped in. Tall, sharp suit, black tie, eyes like he’d already weighed and measured every one of us before breakfast. We all scrambled, some rolling their eyes behind his back, others fixing their hair as if that would make a difference.

The conference room smelled faintly of cologne and tension. Victor stood at the head of the table, fingers braced against the polished wood, his watch catching the light.

“Business is steady,” he began, his tone clipped, smooth. “But steady doesn’t win markets. We need more VIPs, more whales, and that means making changes to how we present ourselves.”

We exchanged glances. Updates usually meant more money, but with Victor, there was always a catch.

“Our competitors are evolving,” he continued, pacing slowly, deliberate. “We’re not going to get left behind. Starting next quarter, each of you will have a profile on our site. Not just a name and a tagline—an image. Boudoir photography. Stylized. Elegant. Faces will not be shown, only body-focused shots to… pique interest.”

The room went dead quiet. Then the uproar started.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lola said, loudest of all. “So what, you want us half-naked online now?”

Victor didn’t flinch. “Half-naked sells. And it’s not online porn—it’s branding. Tasteful, controlled, anonymous.”

Maya leaned back in her chair, smirking. “Finally, my legs get the spotlight they deserve.”

Across the table, Denise folded her arms, glaring. “This wasn’t in the job description.”

Victor’s eyes cut to her, sharp enough to slice. “Neither was showing up hungover three shifts last month, Denise. Yet here we are.”

A few muffled snickers broke the tension, though Denise just bristled harder.

“What if someone recognizes me?” one of the newer girls asked nervously.

“No faces,” Victor repeated firmly. “Angles, silhouettes, lingerie, lace. Mystery is the point. It’s about illusion, not exposure.”

I stayed quiet, though my stomach did a weird flip. Boudoir shots. Anonymous or not, it was a step closer to peeling back the layers I’d worked so hard to keep separate.

Victor’s gaze swept the table, pausing just a moment longer on me before moving on.

“This isn’t optional,” he finished, voice final. “You’ll thank me when your commissions double.”

The meeting dissolved into mutters, sass, and groans, but one thing was clear—Victor had already decided.