Mistress Matisse's Journal

The new Stranger column: What Is A Woman? This is an emotionally loaded question, and as even-handed as I tried to be, I'm still expecting some pushback.

But regardless of what you think of my take on it, Midori and Kelly B. throw one hell of a sexy women's party. Check it out, and if you don't want to go play this Saturday night, you can still contribute to the AIDS/Lifecycle program.

I'd like to thank the beautiful and wise Kate Bornstein for giving me her thoughts about this. I may not know a lot about male-to-female transgender issues, but much of what I do know, I learned from Kate Bornstein. She's amazing, and I admire her immensely.

I have some words from both Kate and Midori that would not fit into my word count in the Stranger piece, so I'm planning on posting that tomorrow, just for extra dimension.

Meanwhile, I'm driving up to Bellingham for an overnight adventure. Bye!

Labels: column, events

From The Bookcase

I reflected today that the word bookcase might just become an anachronism in my lifetime, mightn’t it? One doesn’t need a whole case to store an electronic book. A singular bookshelf would do, and not a very large one, either.

That seems like a shame somehow. I am very pleased with my new Kindle – it’s rather like having one of those IV’s in my arm, where one squeezes a trigger and gets an instant morphine fix - but I still like real bound books. (Although I admit, my office would be considerably easier to navigate if I did not have knee-high stacks of books on most of the available floor space. It goes without saying that I have bookcases on every inch of available wall space and that those shelves are very, very full.)

Still, I try to be optimistic about it. I imagine that people who read from parchment scrolls probably thought those newfangled printing presses were an indication of the End Times, too.

But for today, a couple of books I like that are not available on Kindle. Just to keep things even.

I'm currently reading this book: Alphabet Juice: The Energies, Gists, and Spirits of Letters, Words, and Combinations Thereof; Their Roots, Bones, Innards, Piths, Pips, and Secret Parts, With Examples of Their Usage Foul and Savory, by Roy Blount.

This book is a word person’s pornography. It’s sort of hard to describe other than that, except to say that it’s written in dictionary-style, which means it’s a book you can pick up and nibble for a few pages at a time. And that’s handy.

Speaking of writers I enjoy - like Roy Blount - I unearthed my battered copy of this book the other day: Confessions of a Failed Southern Lady, by Florence King. It’s an autobiography about the author’s childhood and young adulthood in the nineteen-forties and fifties.

I like auto/biographies in general, but I really like this one. It’s funny as hell, and as smart and often as stinging as a whiplash. (Also hilarious: Southern Ladies and Gentlemen.) Ms. King was a curmudgeon long before being a curmudgeon was cool, and she represents the Platonic ideal - so rarely attained by we mortals – of snark.

But it’s more than just funny. If I had to point to books I read as a young woman that had an effect on who I am now, Ms. King’s memoir would be listed high among them. I am deeply grateful to Ms King for impressing upon my soft young mind that one could be a sexual outlaw without ever being, you know, trashy about it. She did that economically and yet with vivid example, with lines like, “No matter which sex I went to bed with, I never smoked on the street.”

A role model indeed.

Labels: books

You’ve Got Questions, I’ve Got Answers

Dear Mistress Matisse: I have listened to a couple of your podcasts and enjoy them, however I was wondering if you might know if downloading the podcasts to my ipod is possible through the program you use? I listen to the Savage Love podcast (downloaded from ITunes) while walking the dog or working out and would love the opportunity to do the same with yours! If it turns out that there is a simple fix to this I apologize, I am techno challenged...

I’m mildly techno-challenged myself, so I understand, but there is an easy fix for this. Go to the iTunes store and search for Mistress Matisse’s Podcast. I’m there.

Dear Mistress Matisse: A couple years ago you wrote about a man who enjoyed getting kicked in the balls. A man I like revealed that he is looking for someone who can do this for him. I don't remember the actual post, but I do remember you writing something about how you have to be very careful about how you impact so as not to do actual damage. So, as much as I want to be able to do this for him, I am nervous that actual damage can be done. I am generally pretty vanilla when it comes to my experiences, but this man makes me feel safe and comfortable to explore and I want to try this. Can you point me to this post again? Or any advice you may have would be really appreciated. I wasn't able to find a search function on your blog. Thank you for your time and consideration in this.

Well, I’m using Firefox and for me, the search box is in the upper left hand corner. A better way to search is to use the advanced search function on Mistress Google.

Also, if one is looking for my words of wisdom on any given topic, one should remember to look through the Stranger archives.

The real answer here is: I can’t teach you ball-kicking electronically. Some things that I know how to do are so tactile, so experiential, that even though I love words, words alone simply do not convey them adequately. If I had you in the room with me, I could show you. Since I don’t, what I can say is: yeah, you can damage someone if you do this wrong. Every man’s body is a little different, so you have to start lightly and be very careful. Some people can handle a light tap - about the level of force you’d use to push a beloved-but-annoying cat out of a doorway so you could get by. Other people, if you do it in just the right area of their groin, can handle a kick that would do David Beckham proud. I once did a scene where I kicked someone so hard and so many times that my foot was bruised and quite sore afterward. I’m serious. I wasn’t sure I hadn’t broken a little bone somewhere. My victim? “Eh, I was a little sensitive the next day, but not much.” So, results vary.

Start like this: have him lay on the floor, spread his legs, cup his balls with his hands and pull them upwards towards his stomach. You stand up between his knees, hold onto something for balance, and just tap the top of your foot, above your toes, on his taint. See how that goes.

I haven’t read these for awhile, so I’ve forgotten if they get into kicking. But education is never a waste, so try these books: The Family Jewels and More Family Jewels. (I am highly amused to see that they are available on Kindle!)

Happy kicking!

...One more thought: you can kick women, too, and it's also fun. Same advice - you can do damage if you don't do it properly, so be very careful, and start very lightly. Have her put her hand over her clit to protect it and her pubic bone, and just tap the top of your foot below it, on her perineum.

Labels: advice, bdsm techniques, letters

I amused myself by going into the blog archives to see what I was writing about on January 20th in 2005. It turned out to be one of the Silly Phone Calls posts. You can read that here, if you like: link opens in a new window.

The Silly Phone Calls posts were always a big hit - with certain people. I flatter myself that some of them are very funny stories. But still, I officially stopped doing Silly Phone Calls some time back for two reasons.

Firstly, I had mined a lot of my best material. Monk and I have often observed that many of our best early blog posts were the stories we’d told before. Even a writer can hone a story out loud, get the best turns of phrase, gauge the audience's reaction, and tune up the tale based on that. Many of the most popular early Silly Phone Calls posts were written versions of anecdotes I’d regaled my friends with already.

Granted, I had many years of talking to weird strangers on the phone to draw from, so I had plenty of well-polished stories. But eventually, every well runs dry. Since I no longer have a public phone number – and oh, how I do not miss that – I have no fresh material.

But the deeper reason was: I found that sometimes those posts hurt people’s feelings – not the random callers, but people that I know and like in real life. That surprised me. See, I know I’m a dominatrix and all, but inside my own head, I don’t think of myself as a scary badass. I think I’m a pussy-cat. And not even a particularly sharp-tongued one, at that. I just thought I was being cute with those posts. But mere text on a page robs one’s words of certain nuances, so people interpret it differently than intended.

When sex workers talk about our dealings with clients, we tend to position ourselves as the potentially vulnerable ones, and our clients as the ones who must prove themselves to be not dangerous, not disrespectful, not unkind. And certainly there’s plenty of evidence to back up the wisdom of that. I’m not suggesting otherwise.

But – I decided that I wanted to be more sensitive to their vulnerability, too. It’s easy – and often satisfying - to crack jokes at a population we often see as having more power than we do. But when I heard about some of my guys being hurt by things I said, I realized - they actually don’t feel as powerful as an outside observer might assume.

It was one of those moments when something you already know crystallizes into a new form. I’m a dominatrix - I put people into vulnerable positions when they are in my dungeon. That part is obvious. But it sharpened my understanding of how, even in a professional situation, my emotional power over my clients doesn’t end when they leave my house.

I have power, and it’s not necessarily the type of power I set out to get - but I have it. So I have to use it carefully, and not leave bloody weals on boys I like. Unless of course I mean to.


EDIT: True, I occasionally sharpen my claws on people who write me letters and ask for advice. But that's different - they generally say, "You can write about this." That's consent, in my book.

Labels: phone calls, sex work, writer's life

Here's a brand-new podcast! (Even though it’s only Monday. I’m busy writing a column.)

In this one, TwistedMonk and I answer a letter from someone who is new at being the top in a scene, and who is struggling with what to do when people don’t disclose important medical/emotional before the play starts. Short answer: it's not perfect, but even when you ask them, people do that. Roll with it.

Then we hear from someone who wants to know how to cover bruises, so we discuss strategies for that. I talk about my stripper days of putting make-up on my ass… And mention some other kinky activities that leave marks on socially-visible areas of the body.

Enjoy listening!

Labels: Monk, podcast

Oh, The Media!

First, I have a new column over at The Stranger. And yes, it's about the "Alexa Dicarlo" issue. If I had had my way, this column would have come out two weeks ago. Alas, one cannot always have things as one would wish. Still, it's my hope that if I inspire any fresh debate on the matter, it will be calm, civil and reasoned. Although really, there's not much more to be said, is there? Perhaps my remarks will serve as a finale.

On a much sexier subject: last weekend, my darling Monk went to Vegas for the Adult Video News awards - the Oscars of porn, if you will. He taught a bondage class at the Erotic Heritage Museum, and he arranged with Carnal Nation to be their roving reporter. There's lot of fun videos of him, including one where he interviews Bobbi Star and they talk about me. Eek!

More clips:
A Look At Male Chastity Devices
Talking to the makers of wireless, musical vibrators.
Monk interviews Princess Kali
Monk talks to the Porn Church - and remains amazingly polite.
Monk putting "I Love Anal" stickers on people.

There's lots more on the CN site, so go check it out...

Labels: column, Monk, video

Time for a new podcast!

This one's a lulu. Let me preface it by remarking that Monk and I are practitioners of safer safe, and we want to help people learn how to do safer sex. We are sympathetic to people who are nervous about STDs.

That said, there is a right way and a wrong way to handle this conversation with a new partner, and in this podcast, we read a letter from someone who definitely did it the wrong way.

I don't usually sum up podcasts, but the take-away lesson from this is: if you have STD questions, ask them before you fuck. Asking someone about their health status before sleeping with them is a reasonable thing to do, provided you exercise some tact and charm about the matter.

On the other hand: Wooing someone online, meeting them, having a date, fucking them, going home, and then IMing them to ask them about those red spots on their leg? Gauche and insensitive is the kindest way I can describe that. I wouldn't speak to you again either. Take the spanking and learn a lesson from it: open your mouth before you unzip your pants.

Labels: advice, podcast, relationships

Just Looking

So Max and I have been toying, ever, ever, ever so gently and hypothetically, with the idea of selling the Big House and buying – yes, you guessed it – a Bigger House.

Once again, just to head off misunderstandings among our friends: we have had some completely hypothetical conversations. That’s it. No action plans of any kind exist. We’ve just had some discussions of “what if…?” There is an additional angle of this conversation that I’m not prepared to disclose at this point, but let’s just say: it would indeed take some serious discussion.

Anyway, now that I’ve made all the disclaimers: wow, looking at houses online is like looking at porn.

I remember this from when I bought the Little House, but I was doing that alone, and I was an extremely nervous first-time buyer - in spite of having both Max and my super-duper realtor holding my hand - and I was thus very strict with myself about not even looking at houses that were outside my not-very-high price range, or that were clearly unsuited to my specific needs.

That time, it reminded me more of browsing personal ads. There were pretty pictures and enticing text for me to peruse, but in most cases – in all but one, in fact - the slightest bit of examination quickly revealed reasons why I would not love them.

At the moment, however, I am amusing myself by looking at a much wider range of houses at a somewhat higher price point. It’s interesting, once you to get to a certain dollar figure, the online listings get very elaborate - and yet oddly similar. Just like a lot of porn.

The houses have all been staged, of course, so there’s a superficially stylish look to them. But it’s weirdly monotonous. Like certain strip clubs I danced at, where the girls all sort of looked alike. I don’t know if all professional house-stagers simply have the same taste, or if there’s some well-known research in the field indicating that house-buyers respond well to certain types of furniture and decorations, or what. But photos of the interiors all look rather like Pottery Barn catalogues.

Don’t get me wrong – I have nothing particularly against Pottery Barn, although I wouldn't want a whole house done in that style. Who knew it was the Playboy for standards of beauty in real estate? But when they all look like that, it makes it a little hard to tell what listings you’ve looked at already.

So the houses are all tarted up with fancy accessories, all the everyday stuff of real life tidied away. And then the photos of them are noticeably edited to look unnaturally smooth and glossy and flawless. Some of them – especially the “virtual tours” – are so filtered as to look like CGI.

I look at them and think, “Yeah, you look hot, but I bet this camera angle is making your dining room look bigger than it really is. And come on, are you really five bedrooms, or is that just a walk-in closet with a push-up bra?”

And like porn, most of them represent things I probably don’t want for my real life. It is interesting to look at pictures and think, “Wow, someone thought this looked cool, huh? I’m sure someone will love it - but no, I don’t want to do that.”

But it is fun to look.

Labels: my non-kink life

Letters and Snark
I get a lot of unsolicited offers to be my slave, and most of them are about as eye-rolling as you'd expect. Anyone who sends me letters like that has clearly not troubled themselves to learn much about me.

(Most eyestrain-inducing? Emails asking to be my slave that are copied to a bunch of other mistresses. Because that's how you make a woman feel special, yeah.)

This one was a bit more creative - which is not always a good thing. First of all, it was a font so curly that I couldn't read it at first. And it was formatted this way, with the center-alignment.

So, without further ado... Complete and unedited letter of the day.

Labels: letters

It's Wednesday, and it's a new podcast!

Monk starts off with a letter from a busty sex worker asking how to handle phone calls from men curious about her exact bra size. I’m embarrassed to say that the word “motorboat” is mentioned. I also talk about my oft-repeated bit of sex work advice, “Don’t say anything you wouldn’t want read out loud in court.”

Then we hear from a reader who thinks that only male dominants (not female ones) get teased, or harshly critiqued. I laugh for a while, and then I explain how that’s not true. Although I do offer an admittedly harsh critique about people who say “dom-may”.

About 12 minutes, not work safe.

Labels: Monk, podcast

A few more pictures from New Years Eve.

One of Puck and I in our party dresses. (Forgive the clumsy crop. My utterly amazing party-assistant, K, is in the original photo, and my photo editing skills are rudimentary.)

Note the fabulous shoes.

We seem to have a party tradition of stuffing more bodies into the various cages we own than they were really designed to hold. Current cage count: four. Three of them are at the Big House, where Max can easily access them. Cages aren't a significant fetish of mine - although they are a useful thing, on occasion. And if you have a cage and want to get people into it, throw a party.

This particular cage is a tight fit for one smallish person. With two, things get very friendly.

A slightly different angle.

And, a bird's eye view. Lovely scenery!

Labels: kinky life, photos, Puck

I have a few photos I can share from the New Year's Eve party.

(They are so not safe for work.)

Max has a charming guest visiting him from another city. He has his own special way of making people feel welcomed.

The pose was rather strenuous, so after a while he eased up on her. (Not.)

Then Puck came along and wanted to show this delightful girl some kind support.

You can see how soft and gentle these heels are.

I have a few other fun ones as well - including the traditional girls-in-a-cage photo - but I have to wait for the people in them to give (or decline) permission to post them. Perhaps tomorrow!

Labels: kinky life, photos