Mark S. King

Secrets of the Masturbatory Male

Filed By Mark S. King | June 01, 2010 5:00 PM | comments

Filed in: Entertainment
Tags: 1980s, HIV/AIDS, phone sex, sexuality

During my years in Los Angeles in the 1980's, I owned and operated Telerotic, a gay men's "phone fantasy" service. As a struggling young actor I had begun this odd vocation to make ends meet between acting jobs and as it turns out, I had a way with words. Within a year I had opened my own company.

Telerotic2.jpgMy job was to sound credible (in roles ranging from cocky Venice Beach bodybuilder to friendly firefighter to surfer dude), manipulate the customer toward the prime objective within the typical call duration of thirteen minutes, and convince him that our connection was mutually mind-blowing to ensure he would call again.

And they did. Over the years I spoke to thousands, maybe tens of thousands of men, some of whom requested me faithfully every week, uttering secrets they had never spoken aloud before. It was amazing insight into the realm of fantasy, loneliness and desire. It was a social anthropologist's dream.

They were usually men trapped in a life without physical connection. Some were married, true, but most of them lived in small towns and were helpless to locate male companionship. Their desires weren't so bizarre that they were forced to resort to phone sex to speak of them. Their needs were simple and almost touchingly mundane. Stroke me there. Let me tell you what I think about. Take care of me.

My interest in them was a lifeline to many of my regular customers. They would reveal loves lost or found, the pain of isolation and their dreams of having a home with the right man someday. Occasionally their patronage would end after news of a potential boyfriend, or resume when it didn't work out. Sometimes our calls ran long, as I gently led a faceless, suffering voice away from his grief and embarrassed tears.

Truly revealing myself, however, was an occupational hazard I didn't risk. I was as callous as I was ambitious, and their intimacies meant little more than new material to plumb for future calls. No way would I compromise my fantasy stud persona to admit I was actually a skinny redhead trying to make a buck in Hollywood.

When AIDS headlines increased, so did business. And at last, something jolted me from my shallow priorities.

Telerotic3.jpgMaybe I'd had enough of continuing the charade, of being taken into their confidence and giving them bullshit in return, of representing a bogus sexual ideal for the sake of my continued prosperity, of being an incredibly convincing lie. Maybe I could no longer reconcile the dream world my phone calls inhabited with the encroaching nightmare real life was becoming.

Maybe it was the customer who, in the midst of our graphic phone sex call, helpfully offered to get a condom from the drawer so I could put it on. AIDS had permeated this man's psyche so completely it had pierced his very fantasies. His presence of mind to protect himself - and by extension me, the phone whore on the other end of the line - was a gesture too filled with grace to comprehend. It stopped me in my tracks and broke my cynical heart.

It wasn't long before I sold the company and ended my stint as a sexual entrepreneur. For a while I entertained friends with the sexy secrets and lessons learned from the disembodied voices of strangers - perhaps as I have implied I would do here - but that exercise no longer holds my interest. Call me reformed, but it feels like betrayal.

Today what I remember most is listening to the sound of profound longing, of men chasing a glancing, counterfeit intimacy because it was all life would afford them, and hearing their desire for something familiar and their doubts about finding it. I regret my calculated exploitation of their hearts' desire, sexual and otherwise.

And I am haunted, deeply and forever, by the sound of trust in their voices.

This period of my life is covered in more detail in my book, A Place Like This.

Leave a comment

We want to know your opinion on this issue! While arguing about an opinion or idea is encouraged, personal attacks will not be tolerated. Please be respectful of others.

The editorial team will delete a comment that is off-topic, abusive, exceptionally incoherent, includes a slur or is soliciting and/or advertising. Repeated violations of the policy will result in revocation of your user account. Please keep in mind that this is our online home; ill-mannered house guests will be shown the door.

biki honko | June 2, 2010 2:58 AM

What a very moving post. It's so very sad that as a society we have denied a portion of our population the right to experience love with out having to suffer bigotry. How can that even be? In what twisted world is it ok to hate people for the "crime" of loving someone of the same sex?

What an incredible piece of writing. I'll be snapping up a copy of your book.
This gave a fascinating insight into a more simple, and yet at the same time, more complicated era in our history.
I'm sure we all occasionally take our liberation for granted, this is a timely reminder that not everybody is quite so fortunate.
Thanks for the wake-up call (no pun intended).

Interesting story. Do people still do those phone lines or has it all gone to webcam?

They're all either computerized party lines, or webcam chat rooms these days. Telerotic existed in the stone age, where customers used a credit card and paid $40 for *one* call!

A. J. Lopp | June 3, 2010 10:20 AM

Actually, Alex and Mark, I know someone who is involved with running such a line (for straight guys) ... and although the profits decline slowly as the years go by and the line competes with newer technology possibilities, they are still making in a month what I could live on comfortably for a year.

But it's not necessarily "easy money". One thing to remember is that it is an unregulated industry --- not literally, but in the sense that participants tend not to use the usual court redresses when a business transaction turns out to be less than what was agreed-upon up-front --- thus there is a lot of overhead effort just checking that the suppliers in your set-up chain aren't skimping, skimming, and scamming you and thus siphoning off your profits. And anytime credit cards are involved, you have to keep your charge-back rate down (that is, customers demanding refunds via the credit card company) or your merchant account gets cancelled.

A. J. Lopp | June 3, 2010 10:23 AM

P.S. And as you can imagine, some people don't want to be seen on webcam --- they want the fantasy, not the reality. I gather that the market is huge.