Friday, March 18, 2005

I'm a busy girl today: one regular client, and then I'm doing a brief performance at a Continuing Legal Education thing that a lawyer-friend of mine is doing. (These are classes lawyers go to to keep their creditials current.) I'm making a guest appearance to demonstrate what an illegal interrogation looks like. Apparently it's a done thing, at these CLEs, to put on slightly off-beat little skits to keep people's interest up. And when you think of illegal interrogations scenes, you think of Mistress Matisse, right?

Meanwhile, the new column and the Kink Calendar are up. Fans of the silly phone calls will enjoy the column this week...

Thursday, March 17, 2005

A few other views of Kinkfest, some from real-life friends of mine, and some from people I know only electronically...
Liss,who continues to be much tougher than she looks, especially when she wears cute little hats.
Griffin,
who is an evil genius and should write a book about perverted games to play with your lover. Or maybe he should be kept in an iron mask somewhere, I'm not sure which.
Rossi,
who graciously let me teach a sweet young thing how to do play-piercing on her.
The Geriatric Riot Girl, who let me try on some of her wares even though I was too wiped out to make a decision about anything, and...
The Ranting Dom
, who I glimpsed but missed actually meeting in person...

I am so loving this NYT article about how to get back at corporate stupidity.

I found some other recipes for drinks made with absinthe, which I'm pleased about. Roman and I did it the traditional way last time (ie, mixing it with water and a sugar cube) and I know that's the way the purists do it, but - yuck. If you like black jelly beans, you'll love the way absinthe tastes. Unfortunately, I hate black jelly beans, and I thought it tasted nasty, so I wound up chugging my drinks, which is really not the point of absinthe.

We got a nice buzz, though, and Roman and I actually have several hours of video footage that we took that night of us drinking the stuff and getting progressively more and more chatty and uninhibited. The sound quality isn't great, though, although there is one amusing segment of me chattering gaily about my ability, as a highly-skilled professional, to pee absolutely anytime, in damn near any physical position. If MTV had a show called "Kinky Real World", I'd be a shoo-in. But the Naked Public Life I and II are the only bits we ever posted...

And last but definitely not least, I got that black straight-jacket I was wanting from JT's Stockroom, and it's great! Jennifer, the head of the Stockroom Marketing Department, was sweet enough to bring one up to Kinkfest for me, after she read that I was wanting one. How's that for customer service? I was impressed... (Plus, Max and I agreed that she's awfully cute.)
I'm bummed I didn't get to meet Jennifer's husband, but I'm hoping we can get them both up to Seattle sometime, and there was also some mention of a LA erotic event, so who knows?

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Bibliowhore

When Max and I were in Portland last weekend, of course we had to go to Powell's. (Twice, actually.) I bought…

Catfight: Rivalries Among Women--From Diets to Dating, from the Boardroom to the Delivery Room, by Leora Tanenbaum. "Catfight is a remarkably researched and insightful foray into the American woman's world of aggression, rivalry, and competition."
I've read this one already and it's interesting. Tanenbaum mixes stories of her personal experience with research and so it's easy to read and yet thought-provoking. It's odd, though - I would have thought I was a competitive sort, yet I actually don't engage in many of the behaviors described in this book. Maybe I work out all my anxieties putting chopsticks on other women's labia. Hmmn, perhaps I should start some kind of highly-specialized corporate-training firm.

The Book of Absinthe: A Cultural History, by Phil Baker "Opening with the sensational 1905 Absinthe Murders, Phil Baker offers a cultural history of absinthe, from its modest origins as an herbal tonic through its luxuriantly morbid heyday in the late nineteenth century."
I just started this. It's a bit slow so far, but I'll keep going. I'm thinking perhaps it's time for Roman and I to have another experience with The Green Fairy.

Call of The Mall: The Geography of Shopping, by Paco Underhill. "As a follow-up to the bestseller Why We Buy, he has written an arch entertaining ethnography of the shopping mall. It's about the shopping mall as an exemplar of our commercial and social culture."
I read "Why We Buy" and loved it. This one isn't quite as entertaining, but Underhill is definitely a sharp observer of the culture of shopping.

Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress: Tales of Growing Up Groovy But Clueless, by Susan Jane Gilman. "Gilman's latest is an acerbic, often side-splitting memoir that chronicles her bohemian youth in New York City's Upper West Side and her first years of adult life. Gilman's wisecracking, raw narrative about universal experiences--defeating bullies, weathering parental divorce, trying to find meaningful work--is reminiscent of David Sedaris' writing and will draw a similarly wide audience."
I actually bought this book mainly because it's the kind of book I never buy. I like memoirs, but I dislike the "totally hip, yet somehow depressed" tone of voice that finds its perfect outlet in much of Sedaris' writing. But since I am doing a certain amount of essay-style memoir-writing myself, I want to try reading as wide a variety of other people's as possible. So we'll see if I agree with the rapturous reviewers.

The Color Of Death, by Bruce Alexander "Sir John Fielding, a blind 18th-century London judge, is back in his Bow Street offices along with his young assistant Jeremy in this seventh installment in Bruce Alexander's well-crafted, intricately plotted historical crime series."
Fluffy paperback fiction. I'm a sucker for mysteries where people are named Sir Something and write with feathers.

Tobacco: A Cultural History of How An Exotic Plant Seduced Civilization, by Iain Gately. "Gately's Tobacco is a sweeping cultural history of the world's most prevalent addiction, and it's probably the best book ever written on its subject."
Haven't started it yet, but it's exactly the kind of thing I like. I'm actually looking for a good book about the history of opium and opium addiction in nineteenth-century England, to include when it started being synthesized into morphine.

The Serpent and The Moon: Two Rivals For The Love Of A Renaissance King, by Her Royal Highness Princess Michael of Kent. "Set against the stunning backdrop of Renaissance France and peopled by the titans of European history, The Serpent and the Moon is a true story of love, war, intrigue, betrayal, and persecution. At its heart is one of the world's great love stories: the life-long devotion of King Henri II of France to Diane de Poitiers, a beautiful aristocrat who was nineteen years older than her lover."
Sixteenth century France isn't my favorite era or place, but still, this looks good. And apparently written by a gen-u-ine princess. I hope that doesn't mean her writing sucks.

Mistress of The Elgin Marbles: A Biography of Mary Nisbet, Countess of Elgin, by Susan Nagel. "Filled with romance, danger, and scandal, Mistress of the Elgin Marbles is the intriguing story of Mary Nisbet, the Countess of Elgin -- one of the most influential women of the Romantic era whose exploits enriched world culture immeasurably."
1800's England, my favorite. I'm saving this one 'til I have a quiet night, so I can just go right through it.

I had to sternly restrain myself not to buy more, and we actually didn't get to Portland's other great bookstore, the alt/porn bookstore Countermedia. That's a shame, but in some ways just as well, because I always spend way too much money there.

I think I'll start a Powell's wish list - I don't think Amazon is inherently evil, as I usually buy used books through them, and can thus feel good about supporting a small businessperson. But I do think independent bookstores are an important social institution that we should support.

Plus, I love having big stacks of unread books by my side of the bed.

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

In Her Own Words

Here's a sweet note from the The Weakest Kink contest winner, Krystal, about her encounter with Roman and I...

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When I first met Matisse, I was in the vendor's area looking at floggers with my friend and had a heavy and thuddy but fur covered flogger in my hand that I wanted to get a feel for. The words on the tip of my tongue were, “Hey, will you try this on me?” I turn around, and my friend has nearly moved on to the next booth and in her place stood the fabulous Mistress Matisse, standing there waiting and watching me. The moment was so beautiful - I don’t think I’ll ever forget how I felt. For a split moment, I couldn’t speak - I think my knees even buckled.

My challenge last night was to be at the doorway to the dungeon at nine and take one item of clothing off every five minutes. That’s the longest striptease I’ve ever done. I use to complain when my DJs went over 3 minutes a song. There was a lovely toppy dyke hanging around and flirting with me. As I was going to start a striptease/lapdance for her, just after I took my shirt off, I got a message from Tambo that I was to put my collar on, stay on my knees, and face the hallway. Five minutes later, I unbuttoned my schoolgirl skirt and see Matisse and Monk turn the corner at the end of the hall. As they walked down the long hallway in a Matrix/Resevoir Dogs style with bags and such coolness, I hugged my teddy bear and thought, “Gee, does this mean I won?”

The combination of strength and gentleness in their mannerisms as tops was so precisely exquisite. They tied me up in beautiful royal purple hemp (MY beautiful royal hemp). “Are you crazy?” Monk says,“You met us ONLINE.” This only gives me a bit of a flutter before I realize that my love is thirty feet away and this is a safe, public space, and I do have the capacity to use my safewords. Matisse says something about chopsticks and I’m scared. The pictures I’ve seen with Matisse and her chopsticks run through my head. As they turn the dials of pain up and down ever so precisely, I start to realize how skilled these two are at reading my body language. I was on a natural high from the start, but they set me flying higher than I’ve ever been. I couldn’t stop laughing and smiling. My bound body, an altoid held in place with chopsticks, bells hanging from various places, Matisse and Monk making out inches in front of my face, great music, and my love in eyeshot - wink/wink means we’re both okay. There were no words for this.

Well, for every high, there is a fall. Yes, generally these things are brought down slowly. I, however, very suddenly felt dizzy and even though I didn’t actually think I would, I heard myself say, “I think I’m going to pass out.” My body-mind-mouth connection must have been working even though I was still somewhere else, because that’s the last thing I remember before being on the floor with my love holding my face in his hands and people around me in very supportive but not overbearing care. I know it’s scary from the outside - and I hesitate to say this because I don’t want to give anyone any unsafe ideas - but it actually added to everything. Coming to with excellent music and my love’s face was beautiful. They made sure I had enough water, assured me that everything was okay and let me enjoy my high. My teddy bear, who had been tied to the pole in ransom, was handed to me and I was relieved to know that I’d been a good girl and they didn’t have to torture Krys, the genderless teddy bear.

Serious sub-space had an interesting effect on me: I was so empowered. By the time we went back to the room and I had revelled in my marks and washed my makeup off, I felt so happily toppy and was lucky enough to have two beautiful people in my room to take it out on. Thank you Monk and Matisse for giving me such an amazing first night at Kinkfest!
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So, yes, you read that right: big bullies that we are, Roman and I made the poor girl faint after we'd been playing with her for about an hour. Of course, it wasn't really just what we were doing. The room was quite warm, and she'd been standing with her knees locked for too long. I kicked myself later for not noticing and correcting that, because it's a quick ticket to unconciousness if you're standing still for a while.

I'm glad she was able to warn me, although even if I hadn't caught her, the chest harness Roman had tied on her as part of the bondage would have prevented her from falling to the ground. Her lover came flying over when he saw her go limp, and Max and another friend, Tom, came as well, and helped us untie her from the rope and get her down to the floor quickly and safely. She was only out for a moment or two, and she's the first person I've ever seen come out of a faint with a smile on her face. It was definitely a more dramatic ending for the scene than we'd planned. But Krystal is a resilient girl, and while she may not consider herself a heavy masochist, she took a lot for us, and she's tougher than she thinks. (On the other hand, her teddy bear, who we tied up as well, is an honest-to-goodness pain slut. We put clothespins all over that bear and s/he didn't protest one bit.)

I'm pleased that Roman and Max and I got to spend some time with Krystal and her partner over the rest of the weekend. They're both really neat people - I'm pleased to have made a connection there, and I hope we keep in touch. Max and I are going to try to lure them up here to Seattle for the next Bondage Intensive class. So I must say, I'm quite satisfied with the outcome of "The Weakest Kink". Maybe we will do it again next year...

Edited to add: There's video clips over on Roman's blog...