Happy

Last night Roman and I went to The Frontier Room and once again, I devoured delicious barbeque. It makes me happy.

Also - my taxes are not going to exsanguinate me quite as badly as I feared. Yay, tax-preparer man!

Here's this week's column and calendar. Plus, thanks to two alert readers who sent me two funny kink-related cartoons...... One here, and one here.

I was talking to a blog reader recently who asked when Roman and I were going to post some more video clips. We should, really. (And I did hear a rumor about him shooting some educational footage... But not yet.)
So until he and I get the time to shoot some more, enjoy the blasts from the past here, hosted on OnFuego...

Ring Ring!

Me: Hello?
Caller: Hi, Mistress Matisse?
Me: Yes, this is she.
Caller: Uh, I was wondering where you were located?

This isn’t the best way to start out talking to me. I’m not like The Lusty Lady, you can’t just drop by. I certainly do not give out my address to anyone who calls and demands it. But I’ll give him a few more seconds before I write him off.

Me: I’m in Seattle, about four miles from downtown.
Caller: I mean like, where exactly?
Me: No, I don’t tell you that unless you have an appointment. And you don’t.

And he probably won’t, based on my instinct about such things. The idea that this caller’s main criteria for choosing a dominatrix seems to be based on whether she’s in The U-District or Seward Park does not auger well for him. There are many important characteristics of a Mistress that should feature more heavily than whether you have to travel ten minutes more or less to reach her.

Caller: Well, I’m in Northgate.
Me: I see.

No, I don’t, actually. But hopefully he’ll get to the point.

Caller: Do you ever come here?
Me: No, I do not do outcall, sorry.
Caller: No, I’d want to come to your place.
Me: Okay – then why did you ask me if I came to Northgate?
Caller: I was hoping you could come pick me up.

Oh, good lord, what am I, the dominatrix taxi-driver?

Me: Pick you up?
Caller: Yeah, and take me by the bank. I’d need to get some money for you.

Amazing. Simply amazing. I consider pointing out that, uh gee, he could take a cab since that is, in fact, what they are for. Cabdrivers and I have a deal – I don’t drive strangers around in my car, and they don’t spank people. (Although I’m told they occasionally do a little verbal humiliation. And come to think of it, I had a cab ride in Manhattan that was truly a Fear and Terror scene. But I still don’t drive strangers around in my car.)

Also, while I think he means his, “I’d get some money for you” to be enticing, what comes into my head is the fact that many ATMs have a two-hundred dollar limit on cash withdrawals per day, and my fee is two-fifty. I can just see how this would go already. “Oh, gee, I’m sorry, this is all I get, could we just go do a quick session?” No. Oh, so very no. That’s not how I operate.

Me: No, I won’t do that.
Caller: But I don’t have any way to get to you.

Thank god for that, at least. Anyone who is so lacking in intellectual resources that he cannot cope with this problem is not someone I want naked in the same room with me.

An interesting essay about how to get over being jealous.... The whole site is worth exploring, if you haven't already done so.

Me? I have a favorite guy and a lovely lady friend of his coming to visit me today. So imagine me wreaking a bit of erotic havoc with them, and then going out for a decadent dinner somewhere. All of my vices in one day, oooh.

Bye!

So Roman and I keep toying with the idea of doing some kind of informal "personal profiles" on our blogs. By that I mean, we both know people, in our personal circle, who are looking for playdates, and we both get emails from readers talking about how they’re looking for people to play with, and it seems like a shame not to do something about bringing these two groups together. I admit I have a slight match-making fetish, but it wouldn't be personal ads per se, as much as “Here’s a cool person I know, if you want to meet them, write them here…”

Granted, most of the people we know personally are not looking for true love as much as kinky fun and games. And a lot of the letters I get are people who want a primary partner. (Although I do know one nice male rope-top who’s single, so there's that…) So that’s not perfect. But, still, there’s no reason you should sit at home until The One comes along, right? My mother always used to tell me that the best way to get dates was to go on dates, if you follow me.

I don’t really know how effective this would be, though. A lot of the people in the personal-friends category are straight men, and conventional wisdom says that women don’t usually answer personal ads. But perhaps it might be different with a reputable third-party endorsing them and guaranteeing that they are (like, probably, I’m pretty sure, I’m sure I’d notice if they were...) not a serial killer.

Just off the top of our heads, Roman and I thought of two straight guys, both rope-tops (one single guy and one poly, in-a-relationship-but-not-married guy), who are open to new partners and who might be fun people to profile. There is a female switch whom I see playing with a lot of people these days, but I don’t know if she’s actively looking for new partners. And I know a cute lesbian bottom (who switches a little), who’s single and interested in meeting fierce femme tops for whatever. Not boys, though, sorry.

So, hypothetically, would any of you local kinksters pay any attention to such things?

***

On another subject completely: Max has asked me to note that his two-day rope bondage intensive on April 29th/30th is filling up fast, so if you’ve been waffling about going, screw your courage to the sticking place. He’s capping it at 25, and 19 slots are already filled. Interestingly, we’re going to have a very heavy female attendance at this class, bigger than we’ve ever had. Look for a fresh deluge of hot woman rope-tops in the wake of it. w00t!

Enter It On The Line Where It Says, "Yeah, Right".

Tax stuff is very much on my mind right now. Of course, making jokes, in public, about the IRS is a lot like wisecracking about bombs in the airport - they have no sense of humor about that shit.

But still, I laughed when I read this:

Publication 525:
Illegal income. Illegal income, such as money from dealing illegal drugs, must be included in your income on Form 1040, line 21, or on Schedule C or Schedule C-EZ (Form 1040) if from your self-employment activity.

I think I should not say any more about exactly why I find that so humorous. But it's definitely amusing.

Bribes. If you receive a bribe, include it in your income.

Huh. I wonder if Tom Delay's H&R Block guy knows that?

Last night Max and I went to see The Pillowman, a play at The ACT Theatre. It’s an interesting examination of the responsibility of the artist for his art. What I mean is: if I write about, say, piercing, and someone reads it and then sticks needles in themself, or someone else, what responsibility do I have for that? It's easy to say, "Why, none whatsoever." But is that really always true?
The performances by the actors were good, but the playwright painted his points in rather broad strokes. And it could have been thirty minutes shorter without sacrificing anything important. Definitely a bit self-indulgent.

Nothing like having a word count to keep one’s writing tight – it’s good discipline. Here’s the latest column and calendar.

Postscript: I just heard that Jan Lyon, one of the founders of the National Leather Association, died recently. I'm sorry to hear that. I haven't seen Jan in years, but once, oh, a very long time ago, when I was living in Tampa, she and I hooked up through the NLA newsletter (yes, the kind that came in the snail mail, this was pre-internet) and had....an intimate evening together. She was just in town for one night, and I didn't run into her again for a long time. But the baby kinkster that I was had a lot of fun with her. Godspeed, Jan.

I got permission from my friend Rossi to link to her pictures and journal entry about getting huuuuuuge needles stuck in her at Kinkfest two weeks ago. I mean, I've stuck a lot of needles in people, but these thing looked like barbeque skewers. All who saw her were quite impressed. She's just a little slip of a girl, but she's high-capacity.

Of course, my partner Max, never one to let an opportunity go by, graciously volunteered to thump on the needles a bit - okay, a lot - while they were in. Rossi agreed to this. She's such a generous girl. I was there when Max took the needles out, and damn, they were pretty bowed. Talk about making paper clips.

Obviously, if needles squick you, don't go look here. (And kids, do not try this at home.)

Ring ring!

Me: Hello?

Caller: Um, hello, I was ordered to call you?

Oh, damn, I hate it when guys do this. This caller, who has kind of a snarky, frat-boy sounding voice, is trying to draw me into a role play with him. I’m supposed to say something like, “Oh, you were, were you? Do you need to be punished?” Or something like that. Then he'd respond with some story about his wife or his secretary giving him this number because they were mad at him, and gee, he doesn’t understand what it’s all about, but they said if he was punished they’d forgive him, so…. Do I punish people? What would I do to him?

This kind of thing is fine as a role play once we’ve laid down a baseline negotiation. But that’s not how you start a conversation with me. If you call me up to talk about booking a session with me, you talk to me on the phone like a regular person, no games, no protocol, no “kneel on the floor while you’re on the phone with me” stuff. For one thing, I think BDSM is more piquant when you start out as equals - and then I tie you up and have my evil way with you. For another, a lot of time these guys are just looking for free phone sex, and I don’t provide that.

Besides, there’s the small matter of consent, and I haven’t consented to do a verbal role- play with this guy. Let’s see if we can redirect him.

Me: Are you calling about having a session with me?
Caller: Uh, gee, I was just ordered to call you.

He’s sticking to his line. We’ll try a different tack.

Me: Who ordered you to call me, and why?
Caller: (Pause) Someone gave me this number and told me to call.

He’s not really thought this out well, has he? I wonder what I’d have to say to get a different answer out of him.

Me: Look, if you want to talk to me about a session, then talk. Otherwise I’m hanging up.
Caller: But I was ordered to call you!

Click. I hang up. I am way too busy for pointless conversation.

High point of my day yesterday: an amazingly yummy lunch at The Frontier Room on 1^st Ave. I used to go drinking there (back when that seemed like fun to me) when it was the old Frontier Room, for you Seattle folks who remember that delightfully trashy dive. It was a little odd to walk in the door and smell the enticing aroma of smoked meat, as opposed to stale spilled booze and cigarettes. But for Yankee barbeque, the pulled-pork sandwich was pretty dang good.

Low point of my day yesterday: an appointment with my tax preparer. Oh, it’s not going to be pretty, boys and girls. For the next few weeks, the Federal Government is going to be my pimp. I am so Uncle Sam’s bitch until I write that check on April 14th. Ouch.

How fitting, then, that I get to have a little fun at the Fed's expense in this week’s column.

See you at the Bondage Class and Party!

Dominatrii In The News!

Geeze Louise – three hundred and twenty-seven thousand dollars? That's sort of depressing. I am obviously doing something wrong…Although I'm guessing the Mistress in question is now getting a veritable tsunami of extremely annoying phone calls.

But this (relatively work-safe) little video clip is delightful…Leave it to the Brits to make a sexy ad about global warming. (Google video, 44 seconds)

Back From Kinkfest

Well, I had a very good time at Kinkfest this year. But then, I’ve never had a bad time there. I saw lots of friends, went to some good classes, and Max and I had fun at the dungeon parties.

The dangerous part about going to kink conventions, though, is that I invariably see new toys I want. I was so busy socializing this year that I didn’t get to shop the vendor area very effectively. So now I’ll have to order stuff, because I definitely saw some things I'm now lusting for.

I’ve been meaning to get a saline inflation kit and have a nurse-pal of mine give me a refresher session on that technique, because it’s big fun. Really, really big, if you use enough saline – a man I know inflates his balls to the size of a melon. But that’s a bit extreme - normally one puffs up the balls (or the nipples, or the labium) just enough to make them extra-sensitive. The sterile water is absorbed safely into the body within a relatively short time and it’s all good.

I was thinking one had to use a largish IV bag for this, but at KF I learned that you can actually buy cute little syringes pre-loaded with saline, all sealed and safe, for small infusion scenes. How convenient!

And I was reminded that I really need to get a surgical stapler. They seem fierce, but in fact, the staples don’t even go as deep as needles. You can use them almost anywhere, too. So there’s a call to my friend Bruce at KinkyMedical.net in my near future.

The medical stuff won’t set me back a whole lot. But then, damn, I saw one of these: The PES Samurai. Woot! I want one. (They say it's just for girls, but...heh. That's what they think.) It's not cheap, though - electrical stuff never is. Even going to the PES site is dangerous – I want another buttplug from them, too, and I need some new scrotal straps. I swear I could max out my Visa without even breaking a sweat.

I did get one fun new toy, though, from Seattle kink-artist Scott Paul. Many of us think of Scott Paul as “the cage guy”, but he actually makes a whole line of stuff besides cages, and it’s all beautifully designed and lovely to look at. He certainly has some very imaginative gags. And I imagine this little instrument will be delightful to wield.

Kinksters will recognize it as a variation on the classic medical Wartenberg Wheel, but sharper and meaner. I can’t wait to use it. Volunteers, anyone?

I am horrified by this. As far as I am aware, I don’t know anyone involved, but it’s a terrible tragedy. I can’t imagine losing someone I loved to such an apparently senseless crime, and I definitely cannot imagine being at a party where someone came in with a gun and started shooting.

I have known a few people who died suddenly and violently. Each time, I recall something my father, who was in Vietnam, used to say: “We are all only an instant away.” Death can come for us anywhere, at anytime.

My sympathy to all of those who are touched by this.

Barely-controlled bedlam here. Fetish clothes and BDSM toys are being tossed about the room in a frenzy of packing. iPods are being loaded with road tunes. Cats are sulking at the sight of suitcases (What? she thinks, my slave is leaving town? Inconceivable!). And SEAF-related spontaneous houseguests have materialized, because Max and I are so the Hotel Kink in Seattle.

But this is not your chaos to organize. Go read about how not to pick people up, based on an extensive survey of a dozen of my pals at a brunch party two weeks ago. Plus (ahem) years of personal experiences, both triumphant and catastrophic.

And go see SEAF. It's great.

Bye!

I’m busy!
I'm finishing a piece of writing for a April 1 deadline.
Getting ready to go out of town tomorrow.
Going to the VIP reception for SEAF tonight.
And trying to conduct the rest of my life as usual. I’m pretty swamped.

But color me excited: I just found out that Coinstar doesn’t take the service fee if you take Amazon vouchers instead of cash for your change. Yes, yes, I know, Amazon is evil, but I have a ton of change around the house in various jars, and so I think I can make an exception in this case. I haven’t been spending money on books lately, what with the new dungeon and all, but I want these:

A Devil's Dictionary of Business: Monkey Business; High Finance and Low; Money, the Making, Losing, and Printing Thereof; Commerce, Trade; Clever Tricks; Tours de Force; Globalism and Globaloney, by Nicholas Von Hoffman. I’ve never had an office job in my life, so the whole corporate thing is very alien and mysterious to me. This will be like reading a book about a foreign country.

The Portrait of Mrs. Charbuque : A Novel by Jeffrey Ford I read his other novel, The Girl in the Glass, and liked it. I didn’t love it, but I liked it, so I’ll give ole Jeffery another spin.

Flashman on the March by George MacDonald Fraser. Love the Flashman books. Love them! Have them all. Good trashy-historical fun.

Ten Percent of Nothing: The Case of the Literary Agent from Hell, by Jim Fisher. Because while I’ve already researched the whole idea exhaustively, and feel sure that I’d know a legit agent from a scam artist… Information is never a waste.

The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists by Neil Strauss. This one’s just going to piss me off, I'm sure. And I hate the idea of contributing even a tiny amount to the royalties of a guy I suspect is a total jackass. But I admit it: I’m curious about what he has to say.

The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. Historical thriller – woot! I’m in heaven.


And in a completely unrelated note: The President of Oglala Sioux Tribe strikes back at South Dakota anti-choicers! “I will personally establish a Planned Parenthood clinic on my own land which is within the boundaries of the Pine Ridge Reservation where the State of South Dakota has absolutely no jurisdiction.” Cecilia Fire Thunder, you rock!

News, Both Good And Bad

Well, this is depressing. The anti-sex, pro-censorship regime we’re living under continues to chip away at what adults are allowed to see and read. Please make a donation to the NCSF as they fight for our right to be sexy.
March 20, 2006 - Washington D.C. Today the U.S. Supreme Court affirmed the
Federal District Court's decision in Barbara Nitke and NCSF v. Alberto Gonzales,
the challenge to the Communications Decency Act, #01 CIV 11476 (RMB). The Supreme Court has affirmed the lower court's decision without hearing oral arguments,
sending a clear signal that the court will not protect free speech rights when it
comes to sexually explicit materials....(Read More.)

In more fun news: Max is teaching another 2-day rope bondage intensive on April 29/30th. Go from clueless newbie to black-belt Nawashi, overnight! Okay, not really. But seriously, Max starts at the basic, 101-level stuff and takes you all the way through full suspension. He doesn’t teach suspension as a stand-alone class, so if you want to learn it from him – and there is no one better to learn it from, I assure you – this is the opportunity. It’s a limited class size and it will absolutely fill up quickly, so register now and save your spot.

There’s also a bondage class with fetish photographer Michele Serchuk and her partner, Delano, of DelanoInDistress.com – that’s coming up on Sunday April 2nd. There will be a slide show of Michele’s work with Delano. Mmmmm, pictures of a cute guy all tied up – sounds yummy.


Finally, a shopping question. This stuff, Sex Grease, is my lube of choice. I used to buy it at Babeland, but it seems they no longer sell it. Wah. Has anyone seen it being sold around Seattle anywhere? I can order it online somewhere, but I'd be happy to support a local business if it was convenient.

My romance with my new house continues. I’m thinking about remodeling my dungeon bathroom sometime next year – because it’ll take me that long to save up the money – and after looking through lots of design books, I realize that what I want looks a lot like the bathroom on the first floor of the house Max and I share.

You see, our sexy bathroom was actually designed to be a handicapped-accessible bathroom. What that means is that it’s kind of a big open room with a showerhead and a drain in the middle of the floor, and shiny chrome handrails. Because I don’t give a damn about bathtubs, what I like are sexy showers. Mmmm-hmmnn. They're so useful for all kinds of scenes.

I've certainly photographed it a lot. The first porn shoot I ever sold to a magazine, I think about 2002, was shot there, with model Rose Algren.

I did some pictures of porn-reviewer Jane Duvall there too. In spite of all the sexy wet shots we went on to do in this shoot, I love this one because it’s such a very Jane facial expression.

And of course I did some self-portraits there too.

So yeah, I want a big open space - big for a shower, I mean, perhaps eight by eight? Done in dark stone, because that blinding-white tile thing is not my kink. I think several water sources – showerheads, hoses, you know. And ADA handrails all around, the kind that are set deeply into the wall and designed to take lots of stress and pressure. That’s a sexy remodel.

Happy Friday, everyone.... Here's the new column. And for you dead-tree readers, I heard yesterday that I am absolutely back in the paper version all the time now. Yay!

Also: I see that the Lusty Lady is hiring. The LL is the only sex work job I ever had where I actually recieved a paycheck. Being a bona fide employee was weird. But it's a good gig for some girls, so if you go audition, remember two things:
1. You don't have to be able to dance like Madonna. It's a small room that you're in, with three or four other girls, so if you have the ability to wiggle your hips more or less in time to music, you're fine. (And hell, if you're cute and sexy enough, they don't even care about that.)
2. Make eye contact and smile. Like all other forms of sexy entertainment, they're looking for ladies who seem happy and engaged with the customers. Pick a window, get close to it, show the candy, look him in the eye, and smile. Not rocket science.

It’s nice when you have cute girls delivered, bound and gagged and blindfolded, to your door. It’s even nicer when cupcakes come with them.

Unfortunately UPS doesn’t provide this service. Last night Roman and I, with Griffin’s able and evil assistance, put Operation Abduction Scene into action. I had the easy part: wait at my dungeon for the victim to arrive, then be mean to her. No problem!

Roman and Griffin had to tie poor girl up, gag her, blindfold her, and stuff her (mostly) into a burlap sack. And then get her into the back of a car and get her over to my place, chuckling evilly and making Playfully Threatening Remarks at intervals.

Her partner was actually present the whole time, but she didn’t know it, as we kept her blindfolded the entire scene. I swear, Roman and Griffin and I should do one of those old-fashioned mystery radio shows. We love riffing off each other and throwing out red herrings. (“Holy Toldeo steel, Griffin, look at the size of that knife she’s holding! Jesus, she’s going to get blood everywhere.” Blindfolded and gagged bottom quivers and moans delightfully. “Hey Roman, do you think this one light bulb will be enough to scare all the rats away? You know how aggressive they are down here by the docks.” More moaning.)

Needless to say: no knife, no rats, no docks, and not very much blood. Just a few drops, really. She giggled through the gag the whole time we were sticking needles in her.

And the cupcakes? Fabulous. Trust Roman’s friends to cater their own scenes.

I’m sure there will be more about this on his blog, so do check for that. But a lovely little scene for me, definitely.

From March 1^st until April 15^th is traditionally an unpredictable time of year for ladies in the industry, and while I don’t have to fret about my year-end bottom line, I do have slower weeks. And this is looking like one of them.

So if you’ve been unable to get time with me, now would be a good time to try. If you are someone I know, I have time today until 5. (Why only guys I know? Because new guy + impulsive same-day appointment often = no show, in my experience.)

I also have time available tomorrow starting at 2pm or 3pm, or something in the evening, say, 7pm.

Thursday I have an appointment open from 5-6pm.

And Friday before five is open.

That’s all current as of this moment, but of course, the phone will ring soon, as it always does, and that’ll change. So carpe diem.

Oh, and by the way: Bill Napoli, Bill Napoli, Bill Napoli.