Mistress Matisse's Journal

I love popular-science author Mary Roach's writing so much. If you have not read Stiff and Bonk, you're missing out. (Her other book, Spook, is okay, but not as good.)

Now here she is to tell us some very odd things about sex - both human, and animal...

Labels: books, video

Occasionally I am reminded that some newer kinky people don't know stuff about BDSM culture that I take for granted. Like the Hanky Code.

I read a lot of online forums about BDSM, and I regularly see someone - usually a heterosexual person - talking about how they wish there was some subtle but clear way that BDSM people could signal to each other in public: "Hey, I'm kinky." Hmmm, what about a lapel pin? Or maybe - a necklace? Lots of options are suggested, and then rejected for various reasons.

And I have to smile, because this is a perfect example of reinventing the wheel. As with many sexual things, the gay men got there way ahead of the rest of us and figured all this out. Thus - the hanky code: a color-coded bandanna tucked in the back pocket of a pair of jeans that indicates sexual preferences.

To indicate that someone is wearing a hanky, we speak of them "flagging" and also of "flagging left" or "flagging right." A hanky (or flag) worn in the left back pocket - or in any way on the left half of someone's body - means they are a top. A hanky on the right means they are a bottom.

Sometimes people tie the hankies around their arm, or thread them through the epaulets of a motorcycle jacket. Same principle applies.

You can flag more than one color at a time. However, if you have, say, eleven different hankies hanging off your body, people may think that you're a bit... indiscriminate.

Now, over time, the range of colors listed in various hanky codes has grown to a truly absurd degree. And there are some differences between the gay men's lists and the lists used (although not very much) by lesbians. One sometimes sees some variations regionally, too, although I think the internet has erased a lot of the old East Coast/West Coast differences.

In my opinion, the important ones are: black and gray, which always mean heavy SM and bondage, respectively.

Red is also easy to identify, although for men it means fist-fucking and for women it sometimes means bloodsports, so you're going to want to be clear about that before you go home with someone.

Yellow is a good one. Three guesses what that color is for.

And then there's about a hundred other colors. But if you can tell the difference between "Air Force blue" and robin's egg blue" - especially in a dark bar - well, you've got better color sense than I do. You should definitely ask.

I don't know if there ever was really a time and place where simply wearing a hanky meant someone could just walk up to you and start doing whatever. But that's definitely not what you should do, or expect, now.

It is, however, a perfectly reasonable way to start a conversation with someone at a party - or after exchanging a few significant glances with them in the produce department of the grocery store, for that matter. "Nice hanky. Is that apricot, or orange?"

Labels: bdsm gear, kinky life

Some days I really want to spank Rob Brezsney.

Scorpio Horoscope for week of May 21, 2009
"It's your choice, Scorpio. You could be a creative dynamo who changes the course of local history -- or you could be a plain old boring sex maniac. What'll it be? We here at the Free Will Astrology Libido Management Center encourage you to at least partially sublimate your unruly mojo into beautiful works of art, innovative business solutions, and brilliant strokes of collaboration. You don't have to stop boinking altogether; just make it the second most important thing you rather than your raison d'etre. "

But, but, but...! Oh all right, fine. Fine!

Damn.

Labels: kinky life

Male Model Call

Note: This is not a shoot I'm organizing or participating in. I'm just posting this information for a friend of mine, the lovely and talented Lady Lydia McLane. This is all the information I have on the matter, I cannot answer any questions, so please direct all inquiries to her!


Website: The website is currently in creation. We currently have 5 adult websites all containing fetish/BDSM content.

Details: FemDom/BDSM shoot with male sub and female top with 1 or more Mistresses, including anal play. Gay, Bi or straight men encouraged to apply. No prior work with acting, adult sites, or modeling is required. The activities we are looking for are bondage, CBT, electro play, strap-on, plugs, caning, whipping, stress positions, forced exercise, and other corporeal and clamp play.

ID & Paperwork: 1 unexpired US Gov. issued ID with Date of Birth and a secondary ID with all releases and 2257 information provided.

Compensation: $200-300 depending on your limits.

Dress/Costumes: If you have leather or rubber clothing then please bring a few pieces. Mostly you will be naked.

Description: Please be height, weight proportionate and between the ages of 21 and 40. Provide the following information...
height
weight
hair color
brief previous history with other websites or personal BDSM history

Contact: beltaneinc@comcast.net

Thank you for your time,
Lydia McLane

Labels: sex work

So this week, for a 12seconds video, I talked Monk into showing me his naked push-ups.

Well, I sort of tricked him into it. See, he always tells me about the mean stuff his personal trainer does to him - you people think I'm sadistic? You have no idea! I sometimes get really envious that this guy gets to hurt my boyfriend so bad. And I don't even get to watch!

(Monk would let me sit in, but he usually goes early in the morning. Nu-uh. Not even for hot boy-on-boy action do I get up at that hour.)

So tonight when we were talking gym-porn, I casually got out my phone, hid it behind my back, arranged my face into an innocent expression, and said, "One-footed push-ups? I don't understand, darling, what are those?"

These. Aren't they nice? (Probably not safe for work. )

Labels: Monk, video

First, a link to the latest Stranger column.


A reminder about scheduling time with me: I'm out of town Monday the 25th through Thursday the 28th, I’m in Seattle again until the 2nd, and then I'm out of town again from Weds June 3rd to Saturday June 6th. So it’s rather catch-me-when-you-can until the 6th.


From the complex-life department: Max and I were sitting in the kitchen last night, looking over our calendars and coordinating various dates for the summer - our lives take a lot of scheduling discussions.

I remarked, “We should do something nice in June, it’s our ten-year anniversary.” I looked up and saw his arched eyebrow. “What?”

“Our ten-year anniversary is in August, dear.”

“Whoops,” I said. “Right. End of August. I knew that.” I batted my eyelashes at him and smiled. “It’s just that every day is like an anniversary with you.”

He smirked. “Oh, nice save.”

Thus was the sudden and unpleasant end of an almost-ten-year-relationship averted!

Oh, not really. But you can't let it seem like you're not even trying. I think it’s actually my five-year anniversary with Monk that’s coming up in June. (Is that right, honey? Or is it July?) And don't even ask me what day, I'm doing well if I get the month right. It’s a good thing I have partners who don’t get offended by my total inability to remember stuff like this.

Labels: Max, Monk, my non-kink life, schedule

Subject line from modeling-spam:
HIGH PAYING TOPLESS EMINEM PHOTO SHOOT/UNCUT EMINEM VIDEO SHOOT

Wow, Eminem is uncut? I really did not need to have that information. TMI, TMI...

And I don't care if he is topless - I am not going to top him. (Okay, that's silly, I know, but my inner editor rails against banal composition.)

I will not be answering this email. I used to model for other people a fair amount, but I don't much anymore. It's too time-consuming, and I'd rather create my own shoots to get images that are useful to me. Someone else's art, as meaningful as it is to them, is not what I need for my professional site. (Needless to say, photos of me, topless, with Eminem would certainly be... interesting. But not really something I'd use professionally.)

And modeling is work, too. I used to sneer when I'd see models on TV or whatever talking about how hard it was. And then I started doing it, and found out: they were right. No, it's not like digging ditches. But it sure isn't just sitting around fluffing your hair and smiling, either.

Want to experience what it's like to model? Do this: stand up and get into a strenuous standing position. Try this - a yoga "King of the Dance" position. Now, hold that. Hmmn, try leaning your head all the way back. But turn your chin so that you're looking into the lens. Come on, just twist your neck more. But relax your face, you look like you're straining. Now put one arm straight up into the air. No, no, no, that doesn't work, put it down again. Close your eyes. Smile. A little bit. Not too much. Point your toes. No, your other toes. Can you look sort of languid and sad? But still somehow kind of enthusiastic and happy, too? Okay, now hold that while I fiddle with my lights. Oh, wait, this memory card is full. Don't move, I'll be right back!

Do that for three hours or more, preferably in a room that's really, really warm. And in my case, do it wearing spike heels and a really tight, restrictive outfit. A tightly laced corset? Perfect. Breathing is so overrated. Which would you rather do, breathe or look beautiful?

Yeah, that's work, my friend. As with childbirth, after it's over, one often forgets the bad part and enjoys the end result.

But it's work. It hurts, too. I have been so sore and exhausted from photo shoots, you'd think I bottomed in a heavy scene. Every time I do a shoot, I swear that the next time, I am going to do a bedroom setting just so I can lie down. I don't care if bedroom sets aren't Mistress-y. There are simply some limits to the level of pain I will endure in order to look all dominant.

Labels: kinky life

In the last few days, there has been much discussion in the sex worker blogosphere about Craigslist's announcement that they will soon shut down the "Erotic Services" section.

I have expressed my opinions about sex workers and Craigslist in the past, several times, and I will probably do so again soon, in The Stranger.

In light of that, I have a question for you, my dear readers. I would like to talk to a woman who is actively engaged in doing sex-for-money, and who has used Craigslist regularly in the last six months to get clients.

I am seeing a lot of commentary about the CL decision, but I have not read or heard anything from anyone who actually, herself, fits that description. I would like to talk to a woman whose professional life is going to be immediately and actively impacted by this.

Thus, if you don't currently have sex-for-money, this is not you. If you have sex-for-money but you don't use Craigslist, this is not you. Opinions from those two groups of people abound. Can I talk to a woman who really used CL "Erotic Services"?

If you choose to talk to me, I can promise you that your privacy, your anonymity will be completely protected. No one but me will see your email address or other information, ever.

Drop me a note at MistressMatisse at gmail.com

Labels: sex work

At last, another podcast. (They were held up by a software-translation problem, but Monk fixed them. Yay!)

In this one, we talk about hierarchy in poly relationships. Polyamorous people can geek out ad nauseum about stuff like: "What does primary mean? What does secondary mean? Do I need these terms? Are they useful or limiting?"

So if you get off on that kind of analysis, you'll loooooove this podcast. It's heavy polyamory theory.

Labels: podcast, polyamory

I Feel Pretty

Hello MM,
You've written before about being a pretty girl. I'm a pretty girl, too… I've been getting into the public bdsm world lately, and I have found being a pretty girl to be something of a problem. The totally unattractive, unskilled guys who only want a blowjob are all over me all the time. The scene-devoted artisan tops and bottoms are all already taken and/ or fairly unimpressed with yet another pretty girl. That's fine with me... I want them to play with me because I'm a good player, not just because I'm pretty. But I don't know how to get them to talk to me when there's always a mess of gross newbies trying to talk to me about my breasts. How do I become a respected member of the community and not just a pretty girl? I'm not planning on this happening overnight, I'm just not sure how to start. I try to be friendly with everyone who talks to me, but this feels like the first days in a new school, praying the cool kids will show interest.
Can you please obscure my name if this goes on your blog? I know I sound hopelessly bratty to those with different genetics.

Oh, I don’t think you’re being a brat... Well, okay, actually you are. Just a bit.

I mean, come on, darlin'. I say this as one pretty girl to another: cut the crap. Pretty girls get to jump in lines. Pretty girls get off with just a warning. Pretty girls get free drinks. Pretty girls get an extension on the deadline. We both know that’s true. Not every time, not all the time, but often enough.

Being pretty is not a handicap, my dear, so let us just dispense with that idea. If it was really that much of a burden, there are lots of occasion-specific ways to dull one’s glamour. I would bet you’re not employing them for kink social events. And I don’t think you should.

But as my grandmother used to say, “Pretty is as pretty does.” An important part of being pretty, in my opinion, is being nice. How many people have you met who weren’t conventionally perfect, but who were made attractive by a great personality? And how many people have you thought were pretty/handsome - until you got to know them, and then it was “Ew, what a twit, I can’t believe I ever thought he/she was hot.”

So don’t be that girl. Be nice. And I mean nice to everyone. Even the guys* you’re dismissing as trolls. I don’t mean give them blowjobs, I mean just ordinary social courtesy.

(Note: I’m reading what you said as meaning: you’re at a kink social event, and guys are attempting to chat you up. Within limits, that’s acceptable. It is, in fact, the whole point of social events: to socialize. We both know there’s always a way to gracefully extricate yourself from polite-if-undesired attention. Obviously if someone is truly being rude and inappropriate, you remove yourself and report him to whoever’s in charge.)

Let me tell you why you should be nice. (Aside from basic kindness.)

You say you’re new in the public scene. I doubt you've been handed a flowchart of who’s who, and who’s friends/lovers/political allies/business partners with who. You may think you’ve sussed out who are the cool kids, and who are the nerds. But it’s not as simple as high school.

Take me, for example. I myself was a total nonentity in high school. Yes, really. I moved to Seattle in 1992 specifically because I heard the BDSM scene was good. I knew no one here. I was very young and pretty clueless. I threw myself into the community, such as it was then, with great enthusiasm - but with a great lack, I’m sure, of skill and social grace. There are people around town who were kind and patient with me then. They taught me skills and overlooked my social faux pas. I’m in a good position to be helpful to them now, and if they need a favor, I’ll do it. I’ll always think of them - and speak of them - with gratitude and respect.

On the flip side are the people who utterly dissed me when I was just a kinky pup. You think I don’t remember who snubbed me and sneered at me back then? Oh hell yes I do. Very clearly. You think I do favors for those people now? Oh hell no I don’t. What goes around, comes around.

Now, within the scene, people think I’m a cool kid. That feels sort of odd some days. However, I am friends with many people who do not aspire to Kinky Rockstar status. A few of them have a social manner that could best be described as… eccentric? Quirky? Unusual? One sighs, sometimes, and rolls one’s eyes gently. But friendship is friendship, dammit, and if some girl was mean to a friend of mine because she’d judged him uncool – ooh, I wouldn’t think much of her. Not at all.

So in some ways, it is like high school – we all come into the scene as nervous, awkward kids, but given a little time, some of us mature into the kind of people you want to know. Be rude now, and you run the risk of alienating someone you’ll regret not being on at least smile-and-wave terms later.

You may think I’ve been severe with you. But hey, that’s my job, right? I will also encourage you. Here’s something I wrote about being an A-List perve** that might be helpful to you. (Note: being a volunteer at an event means always having a good excuse to say “So nice to see you – but excuse me, I need to run and check on the whatever now.”)

I hear you saying that you try to be friendly to everyone. Believe me, I know there are people in the world who are hard to be friendly to. If someone is rude or crosses boundaries, that’s one thing. But if they’re simply not super-cool - well, can you smile and nod for just three minutes? Trust me when I say I notice stuff like that. A former nerd like me? Yeah, I really do.

Gaining people’s respect and friendship does take time. Fortunately, if you do it right, it will last longer than being pretty.



* Everything I say here applies to all possible gender configurations. I am simply using the writer’s set of pronouns for convenience.

**And I just realized I quoted myself in this post. Whoops. Oh well.

Labels: letters

I know, I'm bad for posting nothing but video links the last two days. There will be a real post tomorrow. Meanwhile, enjoy footage from SEAF.

There's no new episode of the polyamory web-series "Family" this week. They are doing interviews with the three main actors, though. So, here's eight minutes with performer Ernie Joseph, who plays Ben.

One of the interesting things about this interview is that there's no discussion of Mr. Joseph's personal views on polyamory. I imagine that's at least partly due to career concerns, a concern I don't condemn him for.

But one of the benefits of a show like this is that it raises people's consciousness. I'd be interested to know if the actors who do not identify themselves as poly feel that they now have a greater understanding of polyamorous culture. Perhaps we'll have some discussion of that in the future.

Labels: polyamory, video

Question for Seattle Escorts

I’m writing a column for The Stranger about couples seeing escorts. If you’ve spent time with couples, and you’re interested in giving me some of your thoughts and opinions about that, drop me a note, and I’ll send you the interview questions. They won’t take long to answer, maybe five-ten minutes.

I will NOT use your professional name in connection with the remarks, everyone’s privacy will (as always) be protected.

If you haven’t read my column before, the archives are here.

Email me at MistressMatisse at gmail.com

Thank you!

Labels: sex work

Here's the new column in The Stranger, about kink bloopers... Just about everyone I talked to about this column had a lulu of a story for me. It was hard to pick just a few. Enjoy reading about the painful errors of other good tops - as long as you don't repeat them!

Labels: bdsm techniques, column

Schedule Notes

EDITED at 6pm Thursday May 7th...

Here's what I know about my availability for the next few weeks...

I'm booked the rest of this week.

I have time next week Tuesday the 12th and Weds the 13th.

Maybe a little on Thursday the 14th.

Friday the 15th I'm unavailable.

The week of the 18th to 22nd is still pretty free.

I'm out of town Monday the 25th through Thursday the 28th.

And then I'm out of town again from Weds June 3rd to Saturday June 6th.

Hope that's helpful to my friends...

Labels: schedule

Highlights From A Family Wedding

So every other Seattle sex blogger – and several from other places – have blogged about how great SEAF was. The Thursday night party certainly was lovely. But since I spent the weekend in Orlando, Florida at my brother’s wedding, guess what? I’m writing about that instead.

The whole event was very nice. The dress I picked out, after all that agonizing, turned out to be perfect. I wasn’t a bridesmaid or anything, thank god. I have pals who have impressive collections of bridesmaid’s dresses, but I’ve never been one, and I see no reason to break up that winning streak now. I instructed my brother very firmly that I was not to be given any official role in this wedding other than guest.

I actually haven’t been to that many weddings, period. So this was my first exposure to some of the silly wedding-reception traditions I’ve seen in movies, like throwing the garter, lots of teary speeches, a DJ who plays cheesy music and tells everyone what to do, ect.

It was also my first experience of a wedding reception that went on for hours. And hours. With an open bar, and a lot of toasts. Everyone, including my mother's rather prim sister, got pretty well lubricated. (Watching my sweet but staid aunt dancing to “The Humpty Dance” was an experience I’m not sure I can do justice to with mere words.) My brother’s wife is Italian, and her family is very nice – and very Italian. Her mom reminds me of a petite Mercedes Ruehl. I think they have a greater ability to handle alcohol than my Anglo-Saxon family.

But they like my brother, so that’s all fine. I remarked to the Mercedes Ruehl-ish mother of the bride that my brother was a sweet man. She replied, in a heavy Jersey accent, “A sweeta man nevah lived!” With the accompanying palm-out, wrist-snapping hand gesture. Seems he’s got his mother-in-law firmly in his corner.

The other amusing thing about the weekend: I hadn’t thought about the fact that my brother would naturally invite a bunch of his childhood/teenage pals to the wedding. Since my brother is two years older than me, that means: people I also know from my childhood/teenage years. To include - the first guy I ever dated. More specifically, the first man I ever had sex with.

The night I arrived at the hotel, I walked into the bar where everyone was meeting up, and thought, “That guy looks familiar, who is that?”

And he grinned at me and said “Oh, fine, don’t recognize me.”

I about fell down on the floor. I was not expecting the first person I saw to be my teenage sweetheart. I met him when I was fourteen, we started dating when I was not-quite-sixteen, and I haven’t seen him since I was about twenty-one. We did have an email exchange not too long ago when, through some social channels, he made the connection of “my old girlfriend” to “Mistress Matisse.” I was pleased to hear from him then, and he was highly amused by my career choice. He’s married to a really sweet woman and they have two adorable children. I’m so glad he’s happy.

And you know what? Spending a little time around him reinforced my opinion that he was a good choice for me as a young girl. Looking back now, I can see where he exercised self-discipline and integrity towards my virginal teenage self. He had a reputation for wild behavior among his male peers, and he was by no means a seventeen-year-old saint with me. But he was a gentleman about the things that mattered, and I respect him for that. I’m glad I had him for my first lover.

We had a lot of fun kidding around and catching up. And we agreed that while we’re both different people now, we are also still, in many essential ways, the same people we were then. He was teasing me over something at one point, and when I reacted, he said, “Oh how cute - you still do that thing where you stomp your foot and try to scowl.”

The First Boyfriend was not, by any means, submissive. (In some ways, he’s rather like some parts of Max, and some parts of Monk, all in one body, which is a little alarming.) But I told him, “You know, I can recall telling you about sexual fantasies I had about women, and about kinky stuff. You were extremely cool and supportive about all of that, even stuff that wasn’t about you, or anything you would be personally into. Thank you for that.”

“Of course I was.” He looked genuinely puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Yeah. A very good choice for my first sexual partner.

Labels: my non-kink life