In A New York State Of Mind...

Ring ring!
Me: Hello?
Caller: Yeah, is this Mistress Matisse? So, hey - I wanted to ask you a question.

The first thing I notice about this guy is that he's got a really heavy "Noo Yawk" accent. Now, I'm sure there are plenty of very nice and genuinely submissive guys who happen to sound like this, but somehow, I haven't met them. When I hear this accent, I remember several seriously annoying clients I had, early in my career, who talked like this. All of them were about as truly submissive as Genghis Khan, and all of them topped from the bottom in a rude, disruptive manner that drove me nuts - and I'm actually relatively forgiving about such things.

But hey, maybe this guy will be different. I'll give him a chance - for at least thirty seconds.

Me: Okay, what's your question?
Caller: So, I'm going to be coming out to Seattle on business, and I was wondering - do you do extreme scenes?
Me: Well, it depends on exactly what you mean. But as long as it isn't anything that's going to do permanent damage to your body, yes, we can talk about it.
Caller: It's like – I like doing really, really extreme stuff, and it's hard to find Mistresses who'll do the stuff that I like.

A red flag goes up. There are plenty of Mistresses who'll do heavy play around. He must want something really out there if he's having trouble finding anyone to do it. So I say, cautiously -

Me: Why don't you tell me what exactly it is you're looking for?
Caller: I wanna do a scene where you come to my motel room and I'm asleep, and you tie me up and gag me and beat the shit out of me and fuck me up the ass really hard. And so matter what I say, I don't want you to stop, I don't want to have a safeword.

Well, you have to give the guy credit for putting his fantasy out there. But this isn't going to work for me.

Me: You know, I think that's a great fantasy, but I'm not going to be comfortable doing something like that with someone I don't know.

Actually, I don't think I'd do it even with someone I did know, just because it's not my fetish. But that's not really the point I'm going to try to make here.

Me: But I'd be happy to talk to you about a somewhat modified version of that fantasy.
Caller: You know, I think if I'm gonna pay for it, I should get it the way I want it. Why would you not be willing to do it?

Okay, so he's not different. He's rude, and he's now going to try to pick apart my reasons for not giving him what he wants, his way. It's probably a lost cause, but let's see if we can make him understand why he's having a hard time getting his fantasy catered to.

Me: Because I don't know you, I don't know your physical limits, I don't have experience in reading your body, and without a safeword, I can't be sure I'll be able to tell when you've reached your limit.
Caller: But I want to feel really out of control, and this is the only way I can do that. I thought you said you did extreme scenes?

Oh, I'm not liking his tone here. Anyone who knows me well knows that I'm very happy to do physically extreme SM. You want your ass beaten until it bleeds? Great. You want needles all over your slippery bits? Love to. You want to be electrified until your eyes roll back in your head and your throat hurts from screaming? Darlin', we'll get along just fine.
But I have some limits, and one of them is that you have to consent – and keep on consenting - in a way that I can feel.

Me: I do. But I don't do no-safeword scenes with strangers. Or rather, I would – but not physically extreme ones. If you wanted me to put you over my knee and spank your ass with my bare hand and not stop until I was ready to, that would be fine, because I'd know I wasn't going to damage you and I'd be able to read your body pretty easily. But in your scene, there are just too many variables.
Caller: Well, I don't think I should have to pay for it if it isn't my fantasy. How about this – how about if you do a scene with me, and if it's really good and it makes me feel like I'm really out of control, then I'll pay you. But if it doesn't, then I won't.

I wish I could say this was the stupidest thing anyone has ever asked me. Unfortunately, it's not. (If you've been reading here for a while, you'll know I'm right.) But it's definitely in the top twenty-five or so.

Me: You know what, this isn't going to work. Good bye…
Caller: Hey, hey, hey, don't hang up!
Me: I thought you said you didn't have a safeword.
Click.
I hang up.


(Postscript: After I wrote this, I remembered that I do know one very cool New York guy...You know who you are, and I'm pleased that you're the exception to the rule...)