Caller: Is this Mistress Matisse?
Me: Yes, it is.
Caller: Well, Mistress, I just wanted to apologize to you. I mean, you don't know me, I live in Texas - but I feel I've been very disrespectful of you.
Hmmnn….I have a feeling this guy's about to launch into some kind of emotional manipulation game. I tend to chew through such attempts like Pac-Man chewed through those little balls, but let's give him the traditional thirty seconds to see where he takes it.
Me: I'm afraid I don't know what you mean.
Caller: Well, you know your website? I found it a few months ago, and I've been looking at it a lot ever since. At the pictures of you, I mean. And, (pauses) I've been…I've been…thinking inappropriate thoughts.
I don't say anything.
Caller: I mean, sexual thoughts. About you, Mistress. I know that's very wrong of me. I know you wouldn't want me to do that, it's very disrespectful.
I still don't say anything. I see what he's doing – he wants me to scold him and tell him what a bad, bad boy he is. But I didn't consent to this little scene, and I'm damn sure not getting paid for it. So I'm simply not going to give him the response he's hoping for.
Caller: And Mistress, I have to confess something else. I didn't just think…I, I touched myself. I mean, I stroked myself. My penis, I mean.
Oh, well, that's a huge shock, now isn't it? Imagine, someone masturbating to pictures on the internet. Who knew such things happened?
Frankly, I don't care if this guy is wanking off to my pictures every ten minutes. They're supposed to get people excited, that's why they're there. I don't care if his keyboard is so sticky that he types the entire alphabet every time he touches a key. But I'm not interested in hearing about it, and he's clearly not going to stop of his own accord, so it's time to wrap this up.
Me: You know what? This whole conversation is inappropriate. You need to stop talking to me about this, and –
Caller: Oh, Mistress, I'm so sorry! I've offended you, I'm such a bad boy, please, Mistress, I'm so sorry!
Me: Stop talking! I'm going to hang up, and I don't want you to call me again.
Caller: Mistress, please, I'm sorry –
Click. I hang up.
Jesus, I hope this doesn't catch on. If everyone who's ever jacked off to a picture of me calls to tell me about that, my cell minutes are going to go through the roof.