A new column in The Stranger, with a kinky calendar too. (Ignore the random boldface in that column, that's some kind of web glitch, not any intentional emphasis of mine.)

Wow, it’s being a busy week around here, and in some unusual ways. For one thing, I have had rather non-stop feminine action in my dungeon lately. Jae has come over to play with me and several different boys, and then another cute girl helped me chastise a charming but naughty man, before admitting that perhaps she deserved a little spanking herself. I’m so used to seeing boyish behinds bent over my spanking bench that when I see a girlish one there, it’s like: Oh my, that’s a whole different kind of pretty.

Other interesting events: this week, I’m doing an overnight date with Armani. We’ve never done this before. So, new frontier!

We’re not traveling far away, but I think it’ll feel very removed from my daily world, and I’m looking forward it. It’s interesting, Armani and I know each other very well in certain ways – we’ve been seeing each other for some years now. But spending time with each other in a different context and surroundings will be – well, different. And fun.

I’m also spending time with friends who are here visiting this week. I need to get her go-ahead before I say who, but I predict I’ll have a kinky good time today. Imagine me being evil to a widely-renowned former courtesan and sex author/expert. (No, it’s not Belle De Jour. Although Belle, if you’re ever in town….)

But Matisse, you say, you're getting all teh sexy! You need to give us something sexy! Well, I heard a rumor – just a little hint, mind you - that that girl Hannah? Is all about her ass. I mean, ALL about it. Go see. I’m guessing you could even tell her you’re getting yourself off to her writing. I could certainly see how you might.

***

P. S. If you have a shopping fetish, take note: my current eBay auctions end today, so carpe diem. There’ll be another round coming up in a few days, as I continue to purge tons of fetishwear and regular clothes that have been sitting in my closet, unloved, for way too long.

Ring ring!

Me: hello?

Caller: Are you a transsexual?

It’s nice when I know right away that an interaction is not going to go anywhere. It’s not like OMG, I’m so horrified, how could you even imagine I’m a tranny-girl? I have seen some incredibly lovely transsexual women, and lusted after one or two of them, although I have never actually been sexual with a tranny girl. A hole in my otherwise comprehensive sexual resume.

I’ve gotten sexy with lots of cross-dressed bio-boys, but that’s almost always a different matter. I say almost always because I suspect some of them were a bit mutable in their gender.

I note in passing that this guy is using the word “transsexual” as a synonym for “male-to-female transsexual”, as if there were no other kind. Tell that to my ex-husband, who was a woman when I first met him – at least on the outside – and who then transitioned into a handsome man. (At least on the outside.)

But I’m guessing this guy isn’t asking me if I shoot testosterone and bind my boobs. He’s asking if I’m a chick with a dick, as the parlance goes. Which tells me that he has no idea who he’s talking to, because if Mistress Matisse had a dick, I’m thinking word would have gotten around about that. You can do a lot with duct tape, as any drag queen can tell you, but if you’re prancing around the dungeon in outfits like this, well, that's going to be a problem.

So the tenor of my reply to him is not outrage about his perceptions of my gender status as it is displeasure with his rude and abrupt phone manner, and his obvious lack of preparedness for talking to me. I count to seven, slowly, before answering in a slow, biting drawl.

Me: No.

There’s a pause while he waits for me to say something else. I don’t.

Caller: But your ad is in the transsexuals section.

No, actually, it’s not. The Stranger does put the “Fetish” section right next to the “Transsexual” section, so he’s not a complete idiot. But last time I checked, the tranny girls all had the word transsexual or TS in their actual ad, which the bio-girls like me don’t.

But that's beside the point, because I don’t like the challenging tone of his voice. What, does he think I’m lying to him about this? “Whoops, you caught me, I actually do have a penis. Just kidding!” Not likely. The tranny sex workers I know are all pretty invested in making sure their customers know that they’re tranny. You don’t want to deal with a guy who gets an unexpected surprise there. It tends not to go well.

Me: I am not a transsexual. So if that’s what you’re looking for, you will have to look elsewhere. Goodbye.

I hang up. I’m pretty sure that he was not, in fact, looking to meet a tranny Mistress. But I’m also pretty sure that I didn’t want to meet him.

A female pal of mine who blogs got a comment on her journal the other day that unsettled her a bit, and she asked me to look at it and give her my opinion.

This anonymous person basically said he’d been reading and jacking off to her journal for some time now. This girl is not a high-profile blogger, but she gets a trickle of traffic. And she does occasionally mention mildly sexy stuff, but she’s not at all what I’d call a sex blogger. I rolled my eyes at the idea that some guy is wanking to her descriptions of the weather, her recipes, and her musings about her inner life. However, it’s entirely possible.

He went on for a few sentences about his whole emo-masturbatory process, in a sort of New-Age intellectual way, meant to suggest that he had some kind of insight and real intimacy with her. Insight and intimacy based on his spanking the monkey to her blog. Right.

And then he ends it all up with, “…but don’t worry, I’m not going to stalk you.”

What an asshole.

Her question was: did I think this guy might really be a danger to her? No, I don’t. I have learned to threat-assess odd behaviors rather well in the course of my career in the sex industry, and my read of his comment is that this man is speaking the literal truth: he’s not going to inappropriately place himself in her real life.

But a comment like that suggests to me that he does want to reach through the internet and scare her, just a little. It’s like saying, “I’m not going to do anything bad – but let me just remind you that I could.” It’s a petty little power trip, designed to make sure he has her attention, and to make sure she spends some time thinking about him and how she might be vulnerable to him. And it worked, she did.

There’s an archaic term for prostitutes: “a public woman.” As opposed to a woman who stayed in private, in the home of her father or husband. The implication being that if you were a public woman, and someone tried to mess with you, well, you were basically asking for it, because you had made yourself public property.

I am definitely out in public, and I could tell you story after story about weird little shit people do to try to fuck with sex workers from a safe anonymous distance. However, I don’t want to give anyone ideas. Suffice it to say that some people have way too much time on their hands, and a desperate need to feel powerful over someone, ever random strangers they’ll probably never even be in the same room with.

So I walk around in the world assuming that wrong people are going to display inappropriate interest in my doings, and that given the slightest chance, those same wrong people will attempt to inject themselves into my thoughts and influence my actions, and that I must be ready to repel such attention. I rarely even think about it very consciously anymore. It’s just life in the big city of sex work.

But her getting that comment pissed me off, because she’s a sweet kid and she doesn’t need that shit. It’s not as if I thought only women who wrote about sex ever got creepy little people saying inappropriate things to them. I’m guessing it’s a rare woman who hasn’t had this happen. But every now and then one sees a particularly annoying manifestation of truly tacky behavior.

One More Weekend Fashion Post

A question for my sharp-dressed readers: I want a pair of gray fishnets, or something sort of like fishnets, and I'm struggling to find them. I have a cool pair of retro gray snakeskin ankle boots and they are just crying out for the right hose. I'm not tall enough to pull off contrasting hose with them, so they must be gray. And not just plain tights, that would be boring. I'll be wearing fairly short skirts with them, so they should be pantyhose, not thigh-highs.

Wolford has let me down here, so I'm turning to you. Any suggestions on where to look?

Well, Monk and I went to a fancy sound studio last night, and with the help of a local sound technician, recorded several short segments addressing some of the questions ya’ll asked, and also just generally cracking jokes, talking dirty, and being silly.

I’ve been a guest on several other podcasts before, and I’ve done lots of public speaking in general. But I found myself unexpectedly nervous at doing this podcast of my own. What if I’m, like, boring or stupid or something? I know, intellectually, that I am neither. But still…

Monk was great, he played interviewer/color commentator and really helped me relax. I think we stayed fairly on topic, rambling only occasionally. I am sure that I talked too fast, as I am prone to do, because my brain always runs faster than my mouth. That’s especially true when I’m a bit wired up. So I’ll work on that, for next time.

For now, the sound guy is going to do all the mysterious things than sound people do to create tidy little uploadable WAV files. He is busy, so it’ll probably be next week before I get anything.

I also have set up a 1-800 voicemail number so in the future, ya’ll can call and leave a voicemail, and then I’ll play your actual message on the podcast, and then answer your question, or mock you mercilessly, whichever seems appropriate. That number is 1-800-519-6198. It seems to be taking a day or so to get that system online, so don’t start dialing this minute. But it should be set up soon. Please note: this is NOT the line to call to ask about appointments. Do NOT call this number to ask me about anything confidential, because by leaving me a message at the 1-800 voicemail, you consent to having it played on the podcast. That’s what that line is for. If you want to speak to me confidentially, call me on the number published on the MistressMatisse.com site.

In other news, I got some very nice compliments yesterday from erotic author/editor Rachel Kramer Bussel, by way of SF Gate columnist Violet Blue. They’re both fascinating writers themselves, so I was extremely pleased and flattered to be so mentioned – Thanks, Rachel!

This evening, Monk and I are going to go record some podcasts in a sound studio. What would you like to hear me talk about for five to ten minutes?

***

Also, a local beauty review for the ladies and metrosexual men: Since my long-term hair-dominant, Craig, had the audacity to be out of town when my hair needed attention - how dare he! - I was unfaithful. Yes, I decided to try a different hairdresser. I waffled a bit, and then chose the Quint Eby Salon on 2nd Ave, where I had my hair done by, of course, Quint Eby.

Survey says: not bad. He did it a shade darker than it’s been, more dark brown/blondish than the usual light-brown/blondish. It's nice, but I think I prefer it lighter. But Quint is a very pleasant man, seems quite skilled, and the salon is nice overall. I think I paid a bit more for it than I would have at the Robert Leonard salon, which surprised me. So while I’m sure I could work with Quint, I didn’t feel any real magic there. I don’t see breaking up with Craig for him.

I have some long-term clients myself, and now and then one of them sheepishly admits having recently seen some other mistress, often when I’m unavailable. I usually just laugh, because I’m not the jealous type in these matters. They always hasten to assure me that she wasn’t as good as you, Matisse. Which I am happy to hear, although tastes vary, of course. But the mere fact that they are back in my dungeon speaks for itself – if they’d liked her better, they’d be there. Craig is as skilled in his art as I am at mine, and just as self-confident, so when I sit down in his chair and admit my infidelity, I’m guessing he’ll take it in much the same way. Sometimes a little fooling around just proves that you made the right choice to begin with.

Question About Ethics in Polyamory

I’ve been reading your blog for quite a while now and I always enjoy it. I know that you don’t answer advice questions often…but I have been rolling a certain situation around in my head for a while now and I would love an opinion from an experienced poly person such as yourself…

…There is a dear friend of mine, (let’s call him Boy), that I have had a crush on for a year or two but he has always been in a relationship. Now he finds himself single and we had a wonderful make-out session a few nights ago. Our sexual kinks seem to line up remarkably well and I was sensing the beginning of a very promising relationship. After our make-out session I discovered that he has also been playing around with another mutual friend of ours, (how about I call her Girl?). No big deal - I didn’t expect monogamy from Boy. Except that Girl really wants to have a monogamous relationship with him. He has told me that he is not ready for a relationship and has expressed that clearly to her. They continue to get drunk and fuck around. All fine and good except that I strongly suspect Girl to be the type to believe that she can sleep her way into a relationship with him. She has even approached me on occasion to ask if Boy possibly talks with me about their relationship. This is awkward as she does not know that I made out with him. I am doing my best to stay out of their relationship, and when questioned I gently told her that she should ask Boy directly if she wants to know his feelings. She responded, “Oh we’ve talked about it. Many times. That’s the problem.”

My question (finally) is whether I am somehow betraying Girl if I continue pursuing a physical relationship with Boy? If Boy was involved with a girl I did not know I would not be concerned in the slightest provided she knew the situation (Boy does not plan on being monogamous). But since I know Girl and consider her somewhat of a friend I find myself feeling like I am betraying some kind of sisterhood by going after the man she wants. I also think that if Boy were to tell Girl that he and I were involved she would be hurt and angry with me. I worry that she would possibly try to make it look like I was the reason Boy would not commit to her among our mutual friends who are generally not too poly/kinky but who know that I am. Am I crazy to be thinking about taking this risk? Usually I would just step away from such a charged situation but I have been waiting years for a crack at Boy. What’s the ethical thing to do?

An interesting question. This is why doing polyamory with people who don’t already identify as polyamorous can be very challenging. The short answer is: I don’t think you’re doing anything that’s ethically wrong. But I think this situation could be right-er.

First let’s focus on you. You’re responsible for your own behavior and for taking care of your own needs. If I were you, I’d say to this Boy, “Hey, I dig you and I’d like to continue down this path, but you need to tell Girl that we’re having this involvement, because it’s really feeling weird for me to keep it from her.” I think that’s an entirely reasonable thing to say. If he refuses to do that, I’d call that a big red flag.

After he tells her, I think I’d initiate one short conversation with her in which I’d say, “Hey, you’re my friend, and I have no problem with you being involved with Boy. This might be a little complicated, but it’s my intention to behave ethically and honestly in both my relationship with him and my relationship with you, and I hope we can all handle this like adults.”

I understand that you feel uneasy about that, but I do think it’s the lesser of two evils, because trust me, she’ll find out. In a situation like this where you all know each other, people always do. Being up-front about it now will not only be better for your own karma, it will cut the ground from beneath a lot of her indignation. Carrying on a long-term deception will just make it seem as if you were doing something wrong. And that you knew it.

She’ll have whatever response to this she has, but what you are not responsible for is other people’s feelings. If she’s upset because he’s dating other people, well, gee, that’s a shame, but that’s not your dog. He’s the one in charge of making choices about that. You are definitely not betraying a sisterhood or anything like that, so don’t apologize for your involvement with him. Why would you feel she had some right to be involved with him that took precedence over yours?

It is not your job to process her feelings with her about you two being involved. In fact, unless she shows a big change in her attitude about the situation, I personally would decline to have much further conversation about him with her, period.

So I think you’re on solid ground ethically. Socially, you may run into a bit of drama. I think most grown-up people will understand that if Boy wanted to be in a monogamous relationship with Girl, he would be, and that if he’s not, it’s not your fault. What, are you holding a gun to his head? Once in while you do run into people who are silly or spiteful enough to think otherwise. One does find out who one’s real friends are, in such situations, and I say that as someone who’s been in a similar circumstance myself. Would I let such a thing stop me from pursing a relationship I wanted? No, because I’m one of those publish and be damned! types who dislikes bowing to the threat of social disapproval. I have never regretted it, but your mileage may vary.

One other possible downside: if they do wind up having a monogamous relationship, your friendship with both of them could end, because she’ll be threatened and he’ll find it awkward.

Now that I’ve said all that, I will also remark that in terms of making this go as smoothly as possible, Boy is really the question mark. You've told me that you're an experienced poly person, so we assume that you’ll handle it well, and we can also assume that Girl is going to be angsty about it, although hopefully in a manageable way. But Boy’s behavior is going to make it or break it. The line, “They continue to get drunk and fuck around” does not fill me with confidence that Boy is someone who’s highly conscious of poly ethics. But I hope, for your sake, that before the drunkenness and fucking, he’s also being as clear as he says he is about his intentions, and that he continues to be clear, and to keep good boundaries around his two involvements.

Good luck to you…

So I'm writing a longer post about poly ethics, in response to an email I got. But for now, be amused by this article talking about how strippers make more money when they are ovulating. I can't say I ever noticed anything like that when I was dancing, but it's an interesting idea.
(Thanks to the many people who sent me this URL.)

My two pieces in this week's Stranger...the column, and the Two Big Meanies piece...
Enjoy!

Images From Folsom

I sent pictures to Dan Savage and he posted some of them yesterday in the Slog, with commentary, so you can see them and read his thoughts there.

But here’s a few more…

A band of fabulously pink people. I think I want a zentai suit.

A single-tail in action at the Society of Janus booth.

I love happy naked people prancing around in the street. This guy seemed so cheerful.

This man, on the other hand, had a rather serious demeanor. He has clearly spent a lot of money on this gorgeous, butter-soft, piss-yellow cop uniform. And the biceps were quite impressive, too, although one suspects that there’s some chemistry at work there. Still, the fellow looking at him seems to approve.

I’m not sure what exactly the persona is here, but this gentlemen seemed to be enjoying himself.

And one of Monk, looking all fag daddy with his cee-gar.

Speaking of playing at different sexual orientations...I didn't take this picture, but I just want to note that here that, upon seeing me, the delicious gay man on the right, Titan star Tony Buff, vaulted across the table and lifted me up in his arms, so that I had to wrap my legs around his waist. And then he pumped his hips. Oh my. I do like inspiring that kind of response in a man.

But I'm sure that's just Tony's way of saying, "Oh, hi, Matisse, nice to see you."

As I laughed, I said, "Tony, every woman here hates me right now, you know that." And he grinned back and said, "Oh, Matisse, you make me feel so...straight."

"Could you hold onto that thought for, say, an hour or so, Tony? You could go back to being gay again afterwards."

Snippets of my day yesterday…

I go to a Capitol Hill bank to make a deposit. Sitting in the drive-through, I put my slips through the teller’s drawer. She picks up the paychecks from The Stranger and says from behind her glass, “Oh, do you work for The Stranger? A lot of people from The Stranger come here.”

I have a habit of not chit-chatting with strangers, and certainly I do not volunteer personal information to them. It always startles me slightly when people I don't know - even bank tellers, whom one supposes have access to a certain level of one’s personal information - ask me such questions. I think of it as a ladylike reserve. But Max informs me I’m a bit of a curmudgeon, so I tell myself, I’m sure she just means to be friendly. Thus, I smile and say, “Yes.”

“Oh, what do you do for them?”

Ok-ay. “I write for them.”

“What do you write?” She's still smiling brightly at me as she counts my money. Do I want to have this conversation? Not particularly. Do I see a polite way out? Not really. I suppose I could claim to be Erica Barnett, but that’s not the name on my check.

“Control Tower.”

She furrows her brow quizzically at me. Ah, so fickle is fame. “I’m Mistress Matisse.”

“Oh. OH. Oh, really.” She looks down at her desk, away from me. “So, anything else for you today?”

Hey, don’t ask the question if you don’t want to know the answer.

***

Later, I’m standing in my dining room with Nerdygirl and her um-friend. (This gal needs a blog moniker and an official job-description, but I am not authorized to assign her either.)

Monk is modeling his outfit for Folsom Street Fair for us. “I just need to make sure I look gay enough,” he says seriously. You see, Monk is always one to wear the appropriate costume for an event, and since FSF is a heavily gay-male event, Monk is dressed like, well, a gay leatherman. But I won’t give details, as he might want those for his blog.

“Honey, I think you look as gay as a straight guy can look,” I say.

“But is gay enough?” Because with Monk, whatever it is he’s doing, it can’t ever be just-okay. It has to be faaaaaaabulous.

“Dude, you could be a backup dancer for the Village People. That’s a very gay outfit.”

Nerdy and her companion agree. Then Nerdy says something about Monk being an otter.

I say, no, he’s not an otter. “He’s not hairy enough to be an otter. Galahad is an otter.*”

“Well, he’s not a twink. Or a bear.”

“He doesn’t really have to be any of them, you know,” I say, laughing. “Especially since he’s not really gay.”

“But do I look gay?” says Monk, getting us back to the important matter at hand.

We all assure him he couldn’t look gayer unless he was fucking a twinkie boy in the ass with a cigar in his mouth.

Hopefully I’ll get a picture of him at the fair proper.

***

*Galahad is actually not gay, either. Although like Monk, he enjoys flirting with gay men.

Further Thoughts On Labor Issues In The Sex Industry

Molly said yesterday: It kind of depresses me to hear you say (I paraphrase) "Just accept your crappy working conditions, that's the way it is and it's not going to get any better."
Sure, if you just roll over and accept terrible working conditions, your work environment isn't going to improve. But workers, in the sex industry or otherwise, have rights to working bathrooms and to have their contracts (number of scenes, whatever) agreed to. If no one stands up and says "Hey, don't treat us like shit!" management won't change.
Maybe I'm just idealistic, but I've seen direct positive results from the labor movement. I think those ideas can be adapted to sex work. Then again, I've never been a sex worker, so this is all theory.

I understand what you’re saying. I myself put in quite a lot of time doing sex-worker activism in the nineties. I helped run a local sex workers organization called Blackstockings, I wrote articles, I made speeches, I produced sex worker events, I helped put out the ‘zine. (Remember 'zines?) So it's not that I don't care, or that I don’t think social change can happen.

But I am a pragmatist, and I am also a capitalist, albeit something of an anarcho-capitalist. I have seen a lot of smart, earnest women expend a lot of energy trying to change the way sex business owners treat their contractors (read: de facto employees) and achieve...not very much. It's great and wonderful that they/we achieved anything at all, given the level of resistance that exists, but to me, it was like trying to bail out the ocean with a bucket. I saw that if I worked really, really hard, I might, just might, help create…a slightly better place for women to go make money for sex business owners. Hmmnn. Didn’t seem worth it to me.

I suppose part of it is my family background – I come from a whole nest of self-employed people, and I was raised in an atmosphere where if you wanted something to happen, you made it happen for yourself. The idea that workers have the right to make demands about how a business owner runs their business is sort of strange to me. I’m not saying it’s wrong, because I know, intellectually, that it’s not. I’m just saying that it’s not a way of thinking that would ever naturally occur to me. For me personally, if I don’t like what’s happening in a work environment, my rights are my feet: I can leave and work somewhere else, or better yet, start my own business and run it my way.

The sex business owners don't care because they don't have to. As it is now, if women quit because they don't like the conditions, it doesn’t matter, because there are plenty more where they came from. There is no financial incentive for them to change, and appealing to their better nature is a joke. Thus, my answer was to quit bouncing from one workplace to another and create my own work environment. I think that’s a better solution. If enough women quit working for someone else and started their own businesses, that would make an impact on sex business owners. They’d be inspired to offer more competitive working conditions, or see their labor pool dry up.

But I think that's unlikely. Many people want to work for someone else. This baffles me, but I see that it’s true. However, I’m hoping that if I keep talking about how I have created what I want, then I will inspire other women to do the same - whatever it is they want.

I didn't dance at strip clubs or work at lingerie-modeling joints to create social change, I was doing it to make money for myself. While I was there, I saw and accepted the trade-offs that come with the gig. But I made plans to get myself out of there and into something better. I’d rather teach women how to do that then spend a lot of energy trying to change the rules of someone else’s game.

Sex Work and Entrepreneurism

Last night Monk told me of an article he had read in Rolling Stone, about men in the gay porn industry. It was mainly about the murder of porn producer Bryan Kocis. But apparently it also touched briefly on how a lot of young men in gay porn don’t make very good money, although many of them hope to. However, their dreams of stardom and riches are frequently dashed – much like a lot of women in the porn industry.

Why am I not surprised by this? Probably because my experience of sex work is pretty vast, and regardless of gender, if you want to make good money in the sex industry, then you need to do two things. One: get in the room with the client, and two: eliminate the middleman.

That means that any form of sex work you do which does not place you in the room with a client should be viewed as temporary and prone to marked fluctuations. Nice extra money, but not to be exclusively relied on to make you a steady, long-term living. So, phone sex, modeling, peep-shows, cam sites, and yes, porn videos – that kind of work can provide a continuous small trickle of money into your pocket, or it can occasionally inject a large wad of cash into your budget. But while I know a lot of people in the sex industry, I don't personally know anyone who has made a decent living exclusively from such avenues for any long period of time.

(And no, the photographer who pays you to model for commercial publication is the not the client. He’s a middle-man. The guy who buys the magazine or joins the paysite is the client.)

The money in those gigs is a bit better if you own the venue. There was a window of time in which mom-and-pop porn sites could do pretty well. But unfortunately I think that era is over - between the federal government regulations, and the expansion of the corporate porn industry, a lot of indie porn sites have been muscled out of business, or at least out of the black.

The women I know who have done best with not-in-the-room sex work are very smart, extremely organized and ferociously self-disciplined. My pal Lydia, for example. I’ve known her for almost ten years. She does a lot of modeling and video work, and has done better with it than many. It doesn’t hurt that she has one of the most naturally beautiful bodies I have ever seen in my life. But that gorgeous figure would not pay like it does unless Lydia had the brains and the drive to make it happen, year-in and year-out. It’s my observation that not so many people have that. And even Lydia does private pro domme sessions.

No, the real money – money to live comfortably, buy a house, create a retirement fund, build some security – comes from establishing relationships with your clientele. So you gotta get in the room with them. Whatever else you do or don’t do with them, you have to look in their eyes, talk to them, and really be there with them. If you can’t do that, then I predict you will never make a good full-time living doing sex work.

And most of the time, you also have to run the business yourself. (I have known some strippers who just danced in clubs and made good money over the long term, but I think they’re the minority.) A lot of people want to just punch a clock, so to speak, and not have to take any responsibility for the success of the operation as a whole. You can find places where you can do that, but the sex industry is the wild wild west. It’s largely unregulated, and the people you’ll be working for are interested in one thing and one thing only: money. They are not interested in your safety or your happiness. That’s just the way it is. It’s like gambling in Vegas – the odds are always in the favor of the house. When I see people in the sex biz fussing about employment conditions or unfair treatment, I always sort of shake my head. I mean, sure, it would be nice if the toilets in strip-club dressing rooms always worked, and porn producers shouldn’t pressure performers to do more extreme scenes than they agreed to. But – that’s not how this industry works. If you want sparkling-clean working conditions and supportive management, go apply at Starbucks. I’m not saying it’s right, but it’s just how it is.

So if you want to make a good living in the sex industry, my advice is: Set up your own shop, run the business yourself, and deal with your clients directly and personally. Don’t be fodder in someone else’s money machine.

Dropped Balls and Phone Calls

So some kinky women I know have asked if I'm going to Wicked Womyn. The answer is: I think not.

Not because it's not a great event. I've been before and had big fun. And I think women, even straight women, can get a lot out of a women-only event. Granted, I'm not straight, but I know women who are entirely heterosexual (yes, really) who they tell me they always learn a lot of new stuff and have fun hanging out without the whole guy-energy thing happening. So especially if you're still learning about BDSM - and god, who isn't, really? - women's events are cool.

That said, I forgot to register. I think it was a freudian slip - we have guests coming, and then I leave for Folsom in a week, and then I get back and dive directly into a visit from my mother, who I love, but who wants all of my attention when she's in town. Like, all of it, all the time. I just think I'm going to feel a little socialized-out by the time Oct 12th rolls around.

And then I heard registration was closed - they got filled up. C'est la vie, I thought. I should stay home and chill anyway.

However, apparently some pals of mine are planning the most awesomely awesome scene I have ever heard of in my life, a pure stroke of Milton Bradley genius, and I'd like to see it. And Jae let me know she wanted me to thrash her severely, which is always a charming prospect.

"But registration's closed," I told Jae.
"Ma'am," she said impatiently, "you're Mistress fucking Matisse! Talk to somebody. Call in some favors. They'll let you in."

Huh. I don't share her utter certainly, but... it does seems like this local notoriety ought to be good for something. Perhaps I will fire off some emails and see who I can sweet-talk about admission to one of the parties, at least. We'll see how far reputation gets a girl in this town.

Future Projects

I have had some ideas lately about some future projects I’d like to do. Let’s see what ya’ll think of them.

Video clips: I’m thinking of creating a series of short video clips, about 3-5 minutes each, designed to demonstrate some very basic BDSM skills. Now, I do not even want to deal with the current 2257 regulations about distributing adult content. So I’m going to learn a lesson from Monk’s Youtube success and just do clips with no nudity. It’s my thought that if there’s no naughty bits showing, I can post them to Youtube and not have them pulled.

I did ask Monk what he thought would happen if I used a blow-up sex doll for the demos. You know, it’s not a person, right? Thus, not obscene.

He furrowed his famous brow at me and said skeptically, “You’re seriously considering uploading a video to the web of you flogging a blow-up doll?”

Yeah, okay, I guess that is a bad idea. Hey, I’m just looking for work-arounds, here. Here’s what is on my list so far:

• Basic spanking and flogging techniques.
• A tour of the most common electrical toys and what they do.
• Play piercing demo and basic FAQ.
• Nipple clamps, and other types of clamps as well: how to choose them, where to put them, et cetera.
• I cannot actually do anything with anal penetration, which is a pity, since it’s a skill everyone should have. But I can talk about choosing a butt toy, with examples, and discuss some of the basic issues.
• I want to do something with genital bondage, obviously, since it’s a favorite of mine. I’m thinking of using a lifelike dildo for the CBT clip. And I suppose they do make rubber facsimiles of pussies, don’t they? Although I’m not sure I'd be able to keep a straight face, since those things just look ridiculous to me. So that’s a problem.

I don’t have a videographer/editor nailed down for this. The person who did Monk’s is great but rather busy, so if you’re local and you want the job, talk to me.

Ditto if you want to be a model. Yes, you must be able to show your face. I can’t pay you, but I’ll do my best to make it fun for you, and if you have a web site of your own, I’ll plug you shamelessly.

Now a question for the ladies, especially ladies who don't consider themselves especially kinky. I'm thinking of pitching some of the glossy women's magazines about some how-to pieces. You see those "How To Drive Your Man Wild In Bed" headlines, but the advice always seems pretty ho-hum to me. What bit of sexual lore would you really like to see explained in an article?

I’m also considering, just considering, creating a site for text-based paid content. The subject matter? Why, only the question I get asked every bloody week: How do I become a pro domme? If everyone wants to know so bad, seems like I should teach them – for a fee. At this point I think it would be broken down into chapters, like a textbook, and you’d have to buy access to each one individually. I would probably build in prerequisites – you would have to buy each chapter in sequence, you couldn’t just buy chapters 7 and 13 randomly.

I’d sort of dig teaching it as an online course, with tests and stuff, but I’m not sure how to do that easily. And that's a pretty big project, so it's not going to happen overnight.

So that's what I'm thinking about for now. All this after I finish a certain other writing project that I'm behind on.

From The Stranger Slog: Hey, was one of ya'll checking me out?

The new column in The Stranger: a look at pain tolerance.

So, let's talk about the column for a minute, because things have changed. I learned this week that instead of being in the online version every week and in the dead-tree paper every other week, I am now going to be in both the paper and online every other week, period.

I'm not sure how the schedule for that is going to look, but when a new column of mine appears in The Stranger, I will certainly link to it here.

I'm not sure what's going on with the Kink Calendar. My best guess is that it'll run when I do and that I'll expand the event coverage to cover two weeks instead of one.

If you have opinions on the matter, I encourage you to express them to the good people at The Stranger.

Meanwhile, Rob Brezsny had this to say to me this week:

"Of all the signs in the zodiac, you routinely enjoy the most interesting problems. No one else can compete with your talent for dreaming up original sins, either. I expect that in the coming weeks, you'll once again assert your mastery in these two areas, leaving the rest of us muttering in amazed awe as we behold the beautiful, stinking, useful, hellacious, intriguing messes you stir up. Congratulations in advance for the resourcefulness and courage I know you will summon from the abyss of your subconscious mind."

Sometimes I think that man should be burned.

Ring Ring!

Me: hello?

Caller: Yeah, hey, hello - are you a dominatrix? Is that what you are?

The caller has a heavy East Coast accent – it’s not quite pure Noo Yawk, but it’s something like it. He’s also talking really fast. And sweetie, if I think you're talking fast, you're really talking fast.

I’m willing to accept that his manner of address is a regional-cultural thing, but to my ears, it sounds rude and abrupt. I get a mental picture of a big guy who looks like he should play a minor role on The Sopranos, a low-level mobster-type.

And I have a feeling this guy and I are not going to click together, but let’s see if he can salvage the conversation.

Me: Yes, this is Mistress Matisse, and -

Caller: Yeah, because I was looking at your ad here? So you’re like, what, you do like slave stuff? You like beat people and stuff? Is that what you do?

Me: No, I -

Caller: Do you like beat people hard and stuff like that? Or do you do like massage or whatever, or what? Hey, do you do half hour sessions? How much for a half hour?

Me: Actually, I -

Caller: Or, hey, what about, like, do you ever do slave stuff yourself? Like you be the slave and somebody else be the master? Like that? So where are you, exactly? Are you in Seattle? Where are you located? Or do you come to me?

Me: Stop! Stop talking.

Caller: What? Wha’d you say?

Me: Stop. Talking. You’re asking me all these questions and then interrupting me when I try to answer. Be quiet and listen to me and I will answer them for you.

Caller: Oh, yeah, okay, go ahead, yeah, like, tell me where -

Me: Be quiet. No, I don’t do half hour sessions. In fact, I am not taking new clients at all without a reference.

This is mostly true, although if I really think I’ll like you, then I make exceptions. However, that does not apply here, since I hate this guy. I don’t know if he’s on drugs, or if he always talks this much, this fast, and this unceasingly. Frankly, I hope for his sake he’s smoking meth, because at least then, when he comes down, he’ll stop talking.

And he must not be a mobster, because if he was hanging around other mobsters, someone would have whacked him by now just for being so annoying.

Caller: A reference? Like what? What do you mean a reference? Like somebody else to tell you I’m like a good slave or, what, like you mean –

Me: Stop talking and let me answer. I mean I need another mistress, or maybe even an established escort or sensual touch practioner, to say she’s met you and you’re a nice guy.

Caller: What about a half hour appointment? Can you come to my hotel? Just half an hour? Do I need a reference for that? You don’t put people in jail, do you?

Me: What? What do you –

Caller: You know, like jail, like arresting people? You’re not like that, are you? Like a cop?

He asks me that as if being a cop was some unfortunate moral failing that someone might fall prey to, a bad habit. Perhaps he is still subscribing the ancient and completely false idea that if you ask an undercover cop if they are a cop, they have to say yes. That’s not true and never has been. Cops can deny being cops until the cows come home, and still arrest you if you do something illegal. Not only is this guy not a mobster, he’s obviously never even seen any movies about mobsters where they get infiltrated by undercover agents.

But whatever. I am so done with this conversation.

Me: I’m not taking new clients, so I suggest you look elsewhere –

Caller: No, hey, what about –

Me: Goodbye.

I hang up and then put the phone down on my desk. It’s in vibrate mode, and it immediately begins to buzz again, the clip rattling against my desktop. I don’t answer. There’s a pause, and then it starts buzzing yet again. My cat, sleeping on the desk next to it, wakes up and bats at it slightly with one paw as it jitterbugs around in a half-circle. Next time the buzzing stops, I turn it off completely. I haven’t bothered to clear messages from that line today, but I have no doubt that when I do, the fast-talking Yankee will have left me any number of long messages where he talks and talks and talks, asking questions that he will not be hearing the answers to.

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Weekend Fashion/Social Blogging

I love dresses – even when I’m stressed or cranky, when I put on a dress that I really feel good in, it can totally change my mood. Jet came to see me yesterday, and he brought me a great little black dress and these boots, both from Kenneth Cole. With black patterned Wolford hose, they're a perfect outfit.

But let’s be real, I live in jeans and casual tops most of the time. I caved in and bought a pair of Chip And Pepper jeans, which I’ve been wanting ever since I tried on a pair in Nordstrom a few weeks ago. They’re really soft and velvety, and something about the way they are cut makes me look like I'm two inches taller, which I like. Now, of course, I want more of them.

Some of you are going to hate them, but I’m sort of digging on these gold jeans. I’m all about metallics this fall, and this top would look cute with them.

Other items on the shopping list: something like this. It'll be warm, which is big for me, since I am always cold. And it's black and shiny!

And another pair of leather pants. Can't decide between this pair and this pair.

Now I have to think about what I'm going to wear tonight, because Monk and I are going to - get ready for this - a non-kinky-people's party. That's highly unusual for me, I'm curious what it'll be like. The last time I went to a non-kinky party, I wound up corrupting Scarlett. (Or at least speeding her along the path to corruption, since she probably would have gotten there anyway.) I wonder who Monk and I might collect at this shindig.