Saturday, July 10, 2004

Not a long post today, as I have a photo shoot soon and I need to get ready for it. (I’m the model, not the shooter.)

Kudos to Monk for winning the "Iron Chef" sushi-making competition last night at the Wet Spot. Not only was the sushi just right, he had a cool presentation and a great-looking back-up crew.

Speaking of modeling, does anyone but me think Cameron Diaz is acting like a spoiled brat? Years ago, she made a rather silly-looking pseudo-SM film legally, and at that time, she presumably got paid and signed a release.
But now, she feels it might tarnish her image, so she's trying to block it's distribution. What did she think was going to happen – the producer was going to keep it in his closet? Of course it's going to get seen by lots of people. That's the purpose of films, even tacky sexploitation ones – and this one looks pretty tacky.
I really don't like it when people try to dodge the consequences of their actions. I'd have a lot more respect for her as an actress if she said, "Yeah, I was nineteen, I needed the money, I thought it might be a way for me to get into better movies, so I did it. Now I find it embarrassing and I wish I hadn't, but – what's done is done."
I don't mean that celebs should have no privacy. Paparazzi hanging out of trees and shooting through windows to get nude pictures of an actress/model/rock star is a whole different thing. But that isn't the situation here.
So suck it up, Cameron. The fuss you're making over this is only going to inflate and prolong the scandal. And who knows, maybe that's what you want. I'm told that in Hollywood, one spins absolutely everything to get the maximum media coverage.
Meanwhile, I'm going get ready for my own close-up…

Thursday, July 08, 2004

It's been a crazy week - and no end in sight. The client line won't stop ringing, I still haven't done my pre-Thunder fetishwear shopping, and my weekend is already booked solid. It's fun stuff, though, a photo shoot – and high time for some new pics, too – and a date with Jake. I've also discovered a new addiction: Jones sugar-free Black Cherry soda. Yum.

The theme for the week, work-wise, has been "Boys In Skirts". Tuesday I had one of my favorite fancy-dressing guys. I'll call him Pretty Boy, and I say that affectionately. PB is a damned handsome man, and he's got a trim, attractive body that looks quite sexy in little numbers from Victoria's Secret. We've been playing for a couple of years now, and I really enjoy him.
Wednesday I had a new client, a cute, lean Brit with a penchant for heavy corporal punishment – yay! – during which he wanted to wear a sheer little thong and stockings and a black satin skirt. "Corporal just feels so much better through satin," he said passionately. We had a delightful time.

"Boys In Skirts Week" will come to an abrupt end today, though. Milo is coming to see me, and he doesn't wear high heels. A good thing, too – he's already six-four or thereabouts. He'd bang his head on my ceiling.

But I actually don't have a whole lot of cross-dresser clients, and that's not an accident. In my observation, there are several distinct categories of (male) clients who want to put on women's clothes. They are:

1) Guys who like it because it's an extra-naughty and forbidden thing to do.

2) Closely related: Guys who like it because women's lingerie is silky and satin-y and it just feels good, tactilely.

3) Guys who are seeking the "erotic humiliation" experience of being "forced" to dress up in women's clothes. For these guys, the mistress cross-dressing them is a punishment, or a demonstration of her cruelty and dominance. Frequently referred to as "Forced Fem", or "FF".

4) Guys who truly want to explore their gender issues. They may or may not be transsexuals, but for these guys, this goes deeper than just the clothes – it's about gender identity.

I'm all down with Categories One and Two. Yes, I was hot for Tim Curry in Rocky Horror. Men in garter-belts can be quite sexy. Not something I'd want every single day – that would rob it of its zing. But charming on an occasional basis.

Category Four – well, I certainly support the idea, but facilitating it isn't my area of expertise. A lot of these boys want me to do a "full-transformation" on them, supplying wigs, makeup, and complete outfits. Sorry, I don't have the skills, and it doesn't particularly turn me on, so I don't do it. (A message to all the local aspiring Mistresses: Category Four boys are an underserved market in general. Acquire the equipment and the techniques to make this your specialty, and you'll own this particular demographic.)

It's Category Three clients I'll have nothing to do with. The whole concept pisses me off. It always has, really, although I try to be polite about it when I'm around other pro dommes who do it a lot. But think about it: the idea that I would punish or humiliate a man by making him resemble a woman – like me! - well, I find that incredibly misogynistic.
I get callers telling me they want me to dress them up and "treat them like a woman". Oh, what does that mean, exactly? You want me to pass you over for promotions and pay you less for doing the same job? You want me to deny you birth control options?
(Note: I know exactly what they mean – they mean they want me to fuck them up the ass. But I think if I'm going to dress someone up in stockings and a corset and fuck them, they should take it like a man.)

So am I being too literal about the "forced feminization" thing? Maybe. It's a fantasy, and it's a mistake to equate what we do in fantasy-play with reality. I've done age-play with other grownups, for example, and nobody involved was a real-life child molester. It's a game.

But fuck it – I'm long past the point in my career where I have to indulge people's fantasies even if the fantasy bothers me. And the idea of "punishing" a man by dressing him up in women's clothes definitely irritates me.

Tuesday, July 06, 2004

Another go-read-other-people's-stuff post today, because I'm busy writing an extra-long "Control Tower" and tomorrow is deadline.

Conrad James of Death, Sex and Hunger writes feelingly about his relationships with sex work and sex workers...

The rougher side of sex work - Two exotic dancers punctured a third dancer's breast implant with a broken wine glass...
I saw plenty of catfights in my time as a dancer, although I managed to avoid being involved in any. But I can say that the one time another woman threatened to kick my ass, I told her if she tried I'd punch her right in her store-bought boobs and rupture them. And she backed off.
(Link snagged from Daze Reader.)

And the prettier side - an absolutely gorgeous photo of my friend Rose Algren, as taken by well-known fetish photographer Ken Marcus. (I'm so jealous she got to work with him!)

Monday, July 05, 2004

Last night I stood on a balcony overlooking Lake Union with a group of friends and watched a great fireworks display. We could see the ones over the waterfront in the distance, too. I used to be kinda "yeah, whatever" about fireworks, but the technology of that stuff is so amazing these days, it's pretty cool. So I still hate the insane traffic on the 4th of July, but I do like everything else about it.

I'm going to work out, and then go see "Fahrenheit 9/11", so I'm off. But meanwhile, for your reading pleasure…

From the You-Go-Girl Department: Woman Fights Off Rapist By Biting His Penis

Monk makes note of my bruise fetish...

And a interesting discussion about polyamory, with a set of definitions, from Lilith, the Cosmic Babe.

Sunday, July 04, 2004

A somewhat disturbing personal essay about one woman's masochistic desires.
Sometime this summer, in a high-rise condo looking out over the city, I will be given something I've been wanting for a long time: a black eye.

Let me preface this by saying: the author is a grown woman and she can do what she likes. I respect her right to make choices even if I don't agree with them. And I can't really make a bullet-proof judgment about her based solely on this article.

Still, if she was a friend of mine, and she told me all this and asked for my opinion, I'd tell her she should be working with a kink-friendly therapist.

It's not the physical intensity of the play that bothers me. I've participated in some very extreme scenes, and I loved it. It's the way she sees herself, and the way she feels about her behavior. Anytime that someone says, "I have strong sexual urges that lead me to actions I later regret. More than regret: I hate myself for them."- that's a problem. The author says she's seen therapists and taken medication, and that it doesn't help. My answer – not the right therapists, not the right medication. They say cigarette smokers try to quit an average of eight times before they're successful. Get back on the couch, and get back to the pharmacist.

And I tell you what - I would never, but never, want to top someone like this. It gives me the creeps just thinking about it. I've met people who I think were something like this woman, and I can remember thinking, They're looking for a monster and they're hoping it's me. Fuck that, I don't want to play with someone who's hoping to bring out my inner serial killer.

SM is not, in and of itself, a pathological activity. But there is such a thing as doing SM for all the wrong reasons. That's what this looks like to me.