Reader Letters

I've been reading your blog and columns for quite a while now and have found your thoughts on BDSM, sex work, and polyamory extremely interesting. However, there's one subject that you don't talk much about, and that, in multiple-partner relationships is pretty critical: STD's. I know you're not a doctor, and I understand that we all have to make our own decisions about what risks are acceptable, but I'm very curious about what precautions you and people you know consider to be reasonable when people have a lot of partners, either serially or in parallel. Obviously, condom use and regular STD screenings are important. But how do people deal with the risk of diseases that can't be blocked very effectively by condoms, particularly herpes? I'd be very interested to hear what you have to say on the subject.

I had two immediate responses to this letter. The first one to reflect on how often people ask me questions that really, they already know the answers to. The writer expresses it perfectly: “we all have to make our own decisions about what risks are acceptable.” I am no different than anyone else in that regard, and neither are my partners.

Take me and Monk, for example. Monk rides a motorcycle. I drive a car. I think a car is safer. Monk admits that it probably is, but he likes his bike.

And indeed, he had an accident a little over two years ago and broke his collarbone. But he’d been careful. He’d worn his helmet and his leather gear, and because he mitigated his risks that way, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. His passenger wasn’t badly hurt, and I think that was more important to him than his own injury.

He still rides his bike. I don’t want to ride a motorcycle, but I think if he wants to, he should get to. Even if I occasionally worry about his safety. Which I do even though I myself could just as easily be hurt in a car accident.

It’s not always logical, what we think is an acceptable risk and what isn’t. You gather the information, you think about what’s important to you, and you make your choices. If I was going to drive someone somewhere and they said "Before I get in the car, you have to guarantee me that we won't be in an accident", I'd think they were being foolish. I've never been in a really bad car accident, but there are no guarantees in life. If you can't deal with that, don't get into a car with me. Or anyone.

Sex is no different. I wear a seat belt - I use condoms. I am careful when I drive - I am careful when I have sex. But I don’t twist myself into a fever of anxiety every time I engage in either activity. I won’t live my life that way.

(My second response was this: perhaps I’m misreading the intent, but my initial interpretation of this writer’s question was that she wanted me to detail exactly how I am sexual with my partners. Like, exactly. But surely – surely! – she isn’t really asking me about my own private sexual practices and the practices of my partners? I must be reading this wrong. Because I would never dream of sending a stranger an email asking them to publish such highly personal information on a website. That would be very inappropriate. I’m sure the writer didn’t mean to imply that she wanted that.)

Basically, you manage risks by managing risks. Worrying about risks isn't managing them, and that's a mistake I see often people make. They don't do anything - they just worry. So whatever it is you want to do, this is my advice: get very well-educated about it. Assess the situation as it is, not as you wish it would be. Consider all the possible outcomes of your choices, from perfect to catastrophic. Think about what you'd do in each of them. Talk to the other people involved. And accept that every day you’re alive, you’re taking risks.

The One-Penis Policy column continues to generate a great deal of comment, both on the Stranger page and on various social-networking sites. I’m mildly surprised at the level of emotion my opinion seems to provoke in people. So – not that I think this is going to make the people who are upset about it feel any better – but let me just clarify a few points.

If you haven’t read the column, this will make no sense to you. Everything here is in relation to that article. Go read that, then come back.

***

First, note that we’re not talking about acknowledged, full-time D/s relationships, that’s a whole other discussion. Assume that 24/7 dominance and submission do not come into play here. I would have thought that since I didn’t mention D/s anywhere in the column, people would understand that it wasn’t a factor, but that seems to have been unclear.

I am not suggesting that the woman in the hypothetical couple is obligated to have sex with other men, okay? She gets to make that decision. And you know what, if she chooses not to sleep with other guys because she knows her male partner wouldn’t like it – well, that’s her choice.

Of course it’s her choice anyway. But there is a huge difference between your partner saying, “No way can you sleep with other men. I cannot handle that" and your partner saying, “It would be hard for me. I’d rather you didn’t. But the choice is yours.” One is pressure, and one is stating a preference.

We can get off on a whole tangent about how much influence it’s healthy to let your partner’s feelings have over your decision, but that’s a somewhat different conversation. I've heard the argument that it's a loving thing to do, that the woman in case is sacrificing her wishes to help ease her partner into polyamory. I'm not saying that can never be true.

(The woman-easing-man-into-poly idea actually amuses me greatly, given how that flies in the face of the myth that women don't really want to be poly, but men get them to be so unwillingly. Hah.)

So if a m/f couple said "Okay, for six months, she's going to date only other women, and then we'll see how that goes and how we feel," I would not think that was terrible. Setting a fixed time for the training period makes it much more palatable to me.

And notice also that he's not dating anyone. Although if he wanted to date other men, I think that would also be perfectly reasonable.

But a permanent system in which the man is explicitly permitted to fuck other women, but the woman is explicitly forbidden to fuck other men? How exactly is that easing anyone into anything?

I am utterly unimpressed with any talk about how it’s really about STDs or pregnancy. For one thing, both those can be controlled with a pretty high degree of success. Trust me on that, I’ve been doing it myself for years. Sexual health education, careful management, and planning ahead eliminate a lot of the risks in multiple-partner situations.

Besides, it takes two to pass an STD, or get someone pregnant. I find it hypocritical in the extreme that a man would want to have other female sexual partners himself – thus exposing them to those possible risks – but say it’s too much risk for his original partner. Frankly, I think that type of attitude should not be dignified with the name polyamory.

If the original piece pissed you off, what I’m going to say now will really inflame you: Just because two people are engaged in a certain system of behavior does not make it “all right, because it’s their choice.” There actually is such a thing as a bad personal choice.

So yes, I do think there are better ways and worse ways to run a relationship. Outside of consensual D/s, I think it’s inherently better to have as few “rules” as possible for other adult human beings that one is having an equal partnership with. I think that’s being controlling – not in the sexy way – and I think it negatively impacts both people involved.

I think if there’s an obvious inequity in the relationship, it should at the very least be openly discussed, and it should be a goal for both people to bring about a change to that.

And I think the basis for the One Penis Policy is basically insecurity and sexism.

Now, feeling of insecurity and sexism are both pretty common (to both men and women), and neither of those things makes someone a Bad Person. But they are traits that can be changed, and being less insecure and less sexist will make someone a better person.

Who am I to make all these judgments? I’m me. Who else would I need to be? I’m a person, I have an opinion, and I'm talking about it. Why shouldn't I? Obviously I have no power to compel anyone else’s choices, nor do I have any wish to. But that fact that people are getting upset that I dared to state this opinion is very interesting, isn’t it?

What I'm Reading

While I was in Bellingham over the weekend, Elvis and I stopped in Village Books and I picked up a couple of things.

I’ve been meaning to get this for a while: Waiter Rant: Thanks for the Tip--Confessions of a Cynical Waiter, by Steve Dublanica. My father’s in the hospitality business, and I’ve waited tables and tended bar myself – the only kind of jobs I’ve ever had that didn’t require someone taking off their clothes. (Although now that I think about it, some of the uniforms I had to wear were rather… abbreviated.) So I’m sure I’ll enjoy that.

I also got this: Diamond: The History of a Cold-Blooded Love Affair, by Matthew Hart. I am a complete sucker for “The History Of…” books. I bet I have twenty or more books with titles that contain that phrase. It hardly even matters what it is. I read a whole book about the history of cod, for heaven’s sake. Yeah, the fish. I’m serious. Even while I read it, I kept thinking to myself, I cannot believe I am reading a book about codfish. It was actually sort of interesting, in a more-than-I-ever-needed-to-know type of way.

But diamonds are much more interesting to me than fish. Much. Although I can't logically explain why. They're sparkly rocks. That's nice, but why do I care? From a strictly biological point of view, something I can eat (like a fish) should be more compelling to me than sparkly rocks.

And yet, if someone gave me a dead fish in a velvet box, it would not really make my sparkly-loving heart go pit-a-pat. When it comes to diamonds, however, I am pure Lorelei Lee. Perhaps this books will give me a better understanding of why. The reviews make mention of another, related book called The Last Empire: De Beers, Diamonds, and the World, which I think I’ll order.

While we’re on the subject of history, I am also pleased to note that Diana Gabaldon’s new book is coming out soon. Okay, sure, it’s fiction, but they are impressively researched. Ms. Gabaldon is right up there with Michael Crichton in that department.

Besides, I just like the series overall. I usually dislike time-travel stories, but this author handles it exactly right, in my mind: she doesn’t dwell too lengthily on the mechanics of it. I don’t want to get bogged down in stuff like that. It’s magic, okay? Just tell me that, Author-person. Tell me in a way that’s understandable and that fits with the story overall, and then get on with the action.

That’s one of the reasons I don’t read for a lot of science fiction – I do not care how, exactly, the rocket ship flies, or how people teleport through space, or how they shoot laser beams out of their eyes, or whatever. Do not stop the action and teach me a damn physics class – and then explain for page after page about how these characters are able to do something that technically, they should not be able to do. I don’t understand most of it, and I don't care. To me, it’s magic. Get on with it.

Also? Don’t make me learn a whole alien language to understand your dialogue. It should be done like writing a character who speaks with an accent – give me a phrase or two, an occasional word here and there, but do not make me consult a alien/otherworldly glossary every third sentence. Publish an armchair-companion if you want to maunder on about space engineering and the linguistics of Zoran-4. But don’t bog down the story with it. (Unless of course you’re Douglas Adams. But unfortunately, you probably aren’t.)

EDIT: a Doubting Thomas just sent me an email. “Twenty? Name them.” Okay, from where I’m sitting, I can see: Salt, tea, oysters, coffee, chocolate, caviar, the telegraph, tobacco, cocaine, absinthe, electricity, sexuality (numerous ones) sex work, (again, numerous different ones) smallpox, hotels, vampires, stage magicians, surgery, oil painting, photography, and marriage.

Those are not, by any means, all the books about history I have. Not by a long shot. But those are the ones I can see from my desk, that have the word “history” somewhere in the title, and that focus on a specific object or concept, rather than a time period or a geographic region. I do not possess a cod, and I don't have that many diamonds either, but I have a truly ridiculous number of books.

Letter of the Day

"I've recently gotten into a bit of sex work, and so far I really enjoy it. Most of the clients I've seen have been nice guys who are respectful and fun to be around - at least for an hour, anyway. And although I'm still getting used to the idea of sometimes viewing sex, something so inherently personal and intimate, as a commodity, I feel a lot better about myself after making a guy's day by showing him some stress-free attention and getting him off a time or two than I do about (her other job.)

Honestly, I have about a million questions I want to ask you right, but I'll start with the one that seems most important so far.

What do you do when a client says something like, "You know, you're a smart girl; why do you do this?" First of all, could that be any more insulting? And secondly, why doesn't he consider how much money he's paying me? I do it BECAUSE I'm smart!

If someone I was dating had that attitude about my choice to do sex work, I'd kick him to the curb, but a professional setting is entirely different, of course. Money is the primary reason I'm doing sex work, not to educate men about sex-positive feminism. At least clients with this attitude seem to be the minority, but I haven't yet figured out how to deal with this issue.

But I expect more respect from someone with whom I've just had sexual contact, even if it was a business transaction. Is that the wrong mindset for a pro?"

Well, I can see both sides of this. I have certainly heard some version of this line myself, lots of times, and I do understand being annoyed by it. If nothing else, people who say it tend to act like no one could ever have possibly have said it to you before, when in fact, you’re heard it 943 times. Anything grows annoying with repetition.

One generally hears it from a man the first time he sees you, and one always hears it after the sexy part, whatever it is, has been completed. Having someone say this to you as they are literally pulling up their pants is enough to try the kindest woman’s patience.

(As I write this, I’m wondering: do male sex workers get this line? Either from other men, or from women? Or is this an exclusively male client/female sex worker thing?)

I am acquainted with the writer of this letter, and like me, she participates actively in the sex-positive community. Within that world – what I sometimes call “the love bubble”, a term I yoinked from Jane Duvall – being a sex worker is not considered highly scandalous, nor is it assumed to be the last refuge of the otherwise-unemployable. There is a range of opinion even there, but most folks will at least admit the possibility that a smart person might decide to be a sex worker for all the right reasons.

But we must remember: most clients of sex workers do not come from the sex-positive community. They live in a world where being a sex worker can never be viewed as a smart choice. In that world, a woman who “sells her body” (and what a stupid phrase that is) must be either morally corrupt or too dumb to have any other options.

If you’re a sex worker hearing this line, take comfort in the fact that at least the client has realized you don’t actually fit that description. I myself have certainly met sex workers who were as dumb as a box of rocks, so also understand that the guy may well have personal experience of that cliché.

True, it’s exasperating to have to deal with the assumption that while he is saying you’re smart, he somehow also thinks you were unaware that you could do something else for a living. But try to be charitable and assume that you rocked his world so much you temporarily lowered his own IQ fifty points or so. It's better for your own blood pressure if you can frame it to yourself not as "He has no respect for me" but rather as "I am a new experience for him."

One of the many unacknowledged roles of a sex worker is to be a sexuality educator. This is a teachable moment. So don’t answer from a defensive place, that’ll close the door on an opportunity to raise his consciousness. My suggested response? “Well, in my world, this is not viewed as something that smart girls don't do. I like sex, I'm completely comfortable with my sexuality and other people's as well, so I enjoy this. My friends think I'm very smart for doing something I like and making extra money too!"

If you are the client of a sex worker: do not say this, okay? You may think it’s a compliment, but it’s actually the reverse: it suggests you expected her to be an idiot. And she’d have to really be an idiot not to know she has other options. She’s choosing to exercise this one, and you should assume that she knows more about her life than you do, and that she’s better positioned to make choices.

If want to make pillow-talk about your everyday lives, you could say, “So, a girl as smart as you must have lots of other irons in the fire. What do you do when you’re not making people glad they’re alive?”

This week's column in The Stranger - which is sure to be a flame-inducing free-for-all, based on the thread a mere mention of it spawned on a social site I visit - about a system of polyamory I'm not particularly in favor of: The One-Penis Policy.

Today is Monk's birthday.

As I have mentioned every year for the last five years, there are a lot of amazingly cool things about Monk. And still, every year I know him, he develops more.

Monk and I often remark to each other that we both do the impossible, every day. By that we mean: our whole crazy poly sexy kinky busy lives, which, by all conventional wisdom, should not work. And yet they do.

But at the risk of making him sound like Laverne and Shirley, Monk has never heard the word "impossible." It's a charming and occasionally terrifying trait in him, but no one who loves him would have him any other way.

I'm very glad you were born today, sweetheart. Have a happy, happy birthday!

Pro Domme Advice O' The Week

I am an aspiring professional mistress and though I am working on learning techniques, etiquette, and the like, I am worried about the legal implications of this line of work. I have looked in many places, but can't seem to find a straight answer. So, I was wondering if you could tell me anything you know about the law in relation to BDSM in Washington state and the Seattle area. Also, I was wondering if you have any advice for a beginner?

Nope, I don't give legal advice. So what I can tell you about the law in this matter is that you need to pay a lawyer to explain it to you. And even after they explain it to you, it's still going to be murky. That's how the law is written - you don't get a simple Ten Commandments, you get a great big mess of codes and definitions and exceptions that's nearly impossible for a layperson to understand. That's how lawyers stay in business.

But you should indeed be concerned about the legal implications. I have met women who thought being a pro domme was a sex worker's "Get Out Of Jail Free" card, and oh, that ain't the case. Pro dommes don't arrested as much as some other kinds of sex workers, but it happens. Take New York City, for example: they had full-on, multi-room pro domme houses going there for years without any real trouble. Recently the political atmosphere changed, and boom, cops came in and shut a bunch of them down. That's how it goes.

We are like strippers, in a way. It's entirely possible to be a stripper, or a pro domme, and not do anything illegal. But it's also quite possible - and even probable - that at some point, you're going to cross a legal line. When you do, you might get arrested for that. Most of the time, you won't. But you can't completely rule it out.

And actually, that's true of a lot ordinary people, too. They break laws every day. There are so many laws about so many things, and they are so confusing and complex, there's almost no way you could not. In the first five minutes if this truly excellent video with Professor James Duane, he talks about how there are thousands upon thousands of laws about crazy things you'd never even think of - but someone did, and there's something on the books about it.

So if law enforcement feels someone needs to be arrested, they’ll find something to charge them with. Whether they get a conviction or not is a whole other issue. However, you definitely need to assume that you might get arrested, and you need to make a plan about how you're going to deal with that personally and financially. If that would ruin your life forever - you'd lose custody of children, or jeopardize a dreamed-of future career, or be disowned by your family - then don't be a pro domme.

Let me also kindly point something out, dear girl, both to you and to the many other women who write me letters just like this all the time. It's a bit naive of someone who lives in my city and plans to practice my art to ask me for general business advice. Technically, I'm your competition, and successful businesses do not stay successful by nurturing their competitors.

Now, I'm not really-really your competition, because I rarely meet new people anymore, and there's plenty of business to go around. But still - if you wanted to open a high-end restaurant with a great view, and you went to the owner of Canlis and asked him for advice, what do you think he'd say? If he were polite, he'd say something like, "Well, it takes time, and you have to work hard." That's about all, I imagine, and rightfully so.

I believe in being courteous to other mistresses, and I absolutely believe in sharing information about physical safety and mental health. But I'm not inclined to give away the hard-earned secrets of my success - I'm actually still using them, thankyouverymuch.

So watch the video. Also, read this. Go here, enter this blog's URL and search for "sex work" and read all the tons of advice I've given about that in the last five years. Then hire an attorney and tell them what you want to do, and listen to their advice. And then make your choices.

A charming man pointed me to this blog entry on a BDSM-themed blog. It's about the concept BDSM people call "topping from the bottom". That's a pejorative term applied to bottoms in a BDSM scene who are too bossy and try to control the top and run the scene.

I admit I have used the phrase in conversation myself, but I think in general it's better to avoid it. It's shorthand, and if you and whoever you're talking to have a very clear understanding of how you're using it in context, it's a useful, if lazy, term.

But it's sort of like the words "bisexual" or "kinky" - both those terms encompass all kinds of attitudes and behaviors, any of which may or may not be true, and if someone doesn't clarify exactly what they mean, a lot of mistaken impressions will result. What does it means to be topping from below? Depends on the top. I myself am not usually bothered by some suggestions, as long as they're offered in an appropriate spirit. Other tops don't want any input once the scene has started.

So it's definitely unprofitable to just bluntly inform someone, "Hey, you're topping from the bottom," as that's both a vague and an uncomplimentary phrase. I advise approaching the matter more diplomatically. "I have an idea! Open your mouth, we're going to use this gag!"

Random Pull From The Mailbag

I reached your article from a mention of "hot-bi-babe syndrome" (which term I was not familiar with) in a Best-of-Craigslist post and an internet search. I found your article interesting and informative, but was confused by your statement that "I'm poly and bi, and there's no way I'd be in a triad relationship, mostly because I think it's an extremely difficult arrangement to sustain."

My understanding is that polyamory is usually defined as a relationship involving three or more persons. Ah, a moment, I just checked Merriam-Webster, and they have "the state or practice of having more than one open romantic relationship at a time". OK, I think I am able to answer my own question.

I was going to ask if a four or more person relationship didn't have some of the difficulties of triads, and that was why you made that statement. But you are saying you are open to having more than one relationship partner, but having those relationships in one multiple-partner relationship is too difficult, in your opinion, so you are interested in one or more relationships, each having its own partner, without cross-connection. Am I on the right track?

Well, I think you get it, although you're phrasing it a little oddly. I would not say a triad was one relationship. But that's mere semantics.

To say it's "too difficult" is putting it mildly. My observation is that it's extremely difficult to conduct a long-term triad. Not saying impossible, but very challenging. I have never done a quad relationship (four people), although in some ways, I think it might be a trifle easier than a triad.

And you may also say that I am considerably more than open and interested. I have never in my life been willingly monogamous. I tried, once or twice, a long time ago. It never worked, because I am not wired that way.

So I've been identifying myself as polyamorous since I was about twenty. I have used different words to talk about that, as the language and culture of polyamory grew and became more sophisticated. And it took me years and years to get good at being poly. Along the way, I made every mistake there is, and I'm sure I invented a few new ones.

Now, I have ongoing intimate relationships that are sexual and loving - and yes, kinky - with more than one person. I don't require a lifetime commitment, but I do not generally do one-night stands. I'm definitely not a swinger, and I don't usually go to bed with more than one person at a time. So yes, all of relationships are quite separate.

In closing, I must just say to you: thank you so very, very much for looking up the word polyamory. I am heartened to see someone actually use the vast array of information at their fingertips, instead of sending me an email saying, "hey whatz X-word-that-I-could-just-fucking-Google mean?" I am so sincerely pleased and happy that you did that and told me about it. Yay you.

The latest installment of the web-cast series about polyamory, Family.


I can't say I really understand where this is going, plot-wise. But it seems to be getting good press: Newsweek did a nice piece on the Seattle producers. And Dan Savage weighed in on it here. So I won't quibble on artistic grounds...

A new Stranger column about a delicate matter: sex workers and race.

Like many of my Stranger columns, it's a subject that deserves far more discussion than I have space to give it. But I think it's worth introducing the ideas, and I hope they stir more discussion in others...

The Weather Outside Is Frightful

The Mistress is cranky about the heat. I know, I know, I don't like snow, either. So persnickety am I.

I admit that the heat is easier in some ways - I can drive in it, for example. And it hasn't yet made my power go out.

But while I can feel sexy when it's snowing outside, I cannot feel sexy with a constant trickle of perspiration running down my back. It's like wearing a latex catsuit, all the time. And while dewy women can be alluring, the charm of that wears off quickly. Like after about half an hour or so.

Still, at least no one provokes me into a towering rage by cooing at me about how pretty the heat is. I should find all those snow-loving, "Oh look, it's just like a postcard!" people and torment them by talking about how wooooooonderful record-breaking, 100-degree heat is. Walking in a summer wonderland!

Complete and unedited email I got recently...

SUBJECT: my 3 guesses at what your fetish is that you indulge with Milo

1. He is an amputee
2. He has a very large/small cock (is that 2 guesses?)
3. He is Chinese

I get the most weirdly random email. I’m usually good at connecting apparent non sequiturs to a subject that makes sense, but this one took me a full minute or so.

What happens is: someone Googles some odd term or other, finds a page of my blog, reads it, but doesn’t note the date. And then they write to me commenting about a post from, say, five years ago. As if it would still be uppermost in my mind.

First things first: this letter is made of fail. The idea of race as a fetish is offensive to me. I am also repulsed by the idea of fetishizing people because they have lost a limb. For the record, I have had partners of all races, and I have been sexual with handicapped people. But people are not fetish objects.

I suppose you could say that someone fetishized cocks of a certain size, because cocks are sort of objects. Sort of. They happen to be attached to people, so I’m not crazy about that characterization. I’ll allow it, given that the owners and operators of cocks often speak of them as separate entities with autonomous government, and we're playing fast and loose with the literal definition of the word "fetish" anyway. But clearly the writer does not understand that women don’t usually fetishize body parts the way men sometimes do.

Other point of failure: this writer is also confusing two different people. Milo was a man I mentioned playing with, but Mike was a secondary partner of mine a little more than five years ago, before I started seeing Monk.

And Mike was not into BDSM, which I mentioned in a post I wrote about him, and I said there was a certain thing about him that I found particularly sexy, but I declined to say what it was. I was purposely rather oblique, but I’m willing say more now.

There were plenty of obvious reasons to like Mike: he was handsome, charming, intelligent, and he also proved to be good in bed.

He was also completely not-jealous and drama-free. That was a huge issue to me at the time - even bigger than it is now, which is still pretty big – because my previous relationship had ended in a firestorm of jealousy and drama.

Because of that, I spent several years skittering nervously away from anyone who even hinted they might get jealous of me. Someone I barely knew sent me a letter that was (I believe) intended to be sexy, and in it they mentioned being possessive. I think they were trying to impress me with their intensity, or something. But talk about the wrong thing to say! I all but took out a restraining order on them.

But Mike was perfectly fine with me showing up at random intervals, having a passionate evening, and then vanishing. No next-date setting, not much communication in between, and absolutely, positively no talk about where is our relationship going? It was great.

So you might say what I fetishized about Mike was his non-possessiveness. However, he did do this one thing that turned me on. He welded. I’m serious: he’s a metal artist, and he welded and worked in metal, and watching him do that was very sexy to me.

I do have a mild machine-sex fetish. Mild meaning: I rarely do anything about it, but it's fun to think about and I often think pictures of it are sexy.

But what I really have is a competence fetish. If I watch someone do something, and they are clearly very good at it, that can be a big turn-on. For example, watching Max do awesome rope bondage on people was what made me first say “Hey, that guy’s kinda cool.” I once got sprung on someone because she was a pool shark. Watching her just clean people’s clocks on the green felt table got me tingly. Looking at Mike’s art, and his tools, and seeing him do the whole make-the-sparks-fly welding thing? Yeah, that made the sparks fly for me, definitely. We had sex in his shop any number of times.

It was a charming arrangement and it was the perfect re-entry relationship. It ran its course, as relationships usually do. But it ended amicably, and Mike renewed my faith in the idea that it was possible to have a fun and affectionate casual-dating relationship without it leading to the type of insane drama that requires lawyers.

So would I get turned on by just any pool hustler or metal worker? No. But doing something manifestly well is sexy. Unfortunately for this person, he is demonstrating that letter-writing is not a skill he can parlay into hot dates.

I am gearing up for a busy seven days, and they’re going to be rather split-second in terms of timing. And somewhat schizophrenic in nature.

Today is easy. I'm about to spend some private time with a friend, and then I’m doing dinner and silliness and kinkiness with a group of my pals. But soon, who should arrive but - my dearest mamma. Which is all well and good, except that I’ll have to do a quick reversal of role.

You seem, my mother is a sweet, gentle woman who loves me very much. She would never raise her voice or argue with anyone. She wants nothing except that the people she loves be happy.

Occasionally, though, my mother gets ideas about what, exactly, would make someone happy. And once she’s decided that - oh, you better just get out of the way. Because she is a five-foot, one-hundred-pound force of nature with a southern accent, and she is simply not going to stop until she has brought about whatever set of circumstances she just knows will be best for her loved one.

I have developed a sort of emotional Aikido for dealing with my mother when she’s on one of her campaigns. You know - don't hurt her, just redirect her momentum. But I pick my battles. Whatever it is, unless you're highly skilled and really invested in not doing it, you should just choose to go along and be made happy by it. Believe me, it’s much simpler if you don’t struggle.

Fortunately, I think she exhausted a lot of her making-people-happy-whether-they-like-it-or-not mojo on my brother’s wedding in May, and besides, now she has a whole new set of people (my sister-in-law’s family) to interest herself in.

Just to make these few days even more fraught with the possibility of comic mishaps, my partner and I also have Midori staying with us. We love her, and she is the best and easiest house guest imaginable. She travels so much so has it down to a science, and she has a knack of flowing into a busy house so smoothly that you hardly now she’s there.

She often stays with us when she’s in town. In fact, my mother and her husband have met Midori at our house before. So when I told my mother Midori would also be here, she replied, “Oh, yes, your friend from San Francisco! She’s so nice, and so pretty. Tell me again, what does she do for a living?”

“Um…she’s an artist. Yeah. An artist. So, is there anything particular you’d like to do while you in Seattle, Mom?”

It used to be that this sort of worlds-colliding would have been flatly impossible for me to manage. But I’ve gotten more relaxed lately about people from my various worlds encountering each other. Still, some things challenge even my ability to keep a lot of balls in the air. Keep your fingers crossed I don’t send them all flying in the wrong directions.

Letters: Emotional Baggage

I'm looking for guidance on trying to discover just the kind of submissive I am or if perhaps my feelings are merely an expression of some self-loathing. I've read much and still am not certain about my own feelings or fantasies.

I was abused as an adolescent and humiliation, feminization and fondling were part of it. Some others I know that have had similar experiences have found sexualization of those experiences helps them gain control over those events.
I've never quite been able to master the experiences that way and have just compartmentalized them. Sometimes I'm successful. But, I find I continue to be drawn to being dominated, as I get close to it, the negative feelings of my past experience take over and I'm unable to continue.

I wanted to come to you for guidance because you seem to be very well regarded and in your years of experience, I thought surely you've encountered others like myself.

This is a nice note, and I have sympathy for the writer. And it’s flattering that this person thinks I can help him.

But I can’t. He says it himself: But…as I get close to it...negative feelings...I'm unable to continue. You see, I feel strongly that if you just listen to what people say, they will tell what you need to know. Most people don’t listen to what’s actually being said, they listen for what they want to hear. Or they listen for what they think they already know.

Both those habits will bite you in the ass time after time. And when they do, you are apt to say to yourself, “Dang, I should have known X would happen.” Well, yeah, you should have. Because someone in a position to know told you it would, but you didn’t listen.

For example, this man is telling me he’s not emotionally ready to do BDSM. I can see why. He’s got serious unresolved issues from the abuse he suffered. I predict that if anyone tried to do a BDSM scene with him, it would go badly. Why? Because BDSM is not therapy.

Let me give that a line all by itself: BDSM is not therapy.

One more time: BDSM is not therapy.

Are we quite clear about that, everyone? BDSM is great. It’s fun, it’s sexy, it’s intense, it’s life-affirming, it’s growth-enhancing, it’s stress-releasing, it is a lot of terrific things. But it is not therapy. You will not heal deep emotional damage just by doing BDSM.

It’s a terribly attractive idea, I know. I have personally seen a lot of folks try to use the bondage rack as a therapist’s couch. (I have seen extremely unethical people use it as a lure to psychologically-fragile partners, too, which I find despicable.) But I have never seen any indication that doing BDSM fixed anyone’s long-term emotional problems. Occasionally the feel-good endorphins and novelty of the roles can buoy up a troubled person, but only in the short term. My observation is that the crash from that high often leaves them worse off then they were before.

So, can a basically healthy person use BDSM to vent stress from one tough day at the office? Sure. Can you work through deep emotional issues like child abuse? I really don’t think so.

Thus, while I don’t share these issues and thus can’t speak to them from the inside, I am profoundly skeptical about “gaining control” of any past issues in this way. I will say that I would firmly decline to play with anyone who presented himself to me with such a motivation. I’m a dominatrix, not a therapist.

Being healthy and happy as a kinky person takes some work even for people who weren’t abused. The writer has got some work to do before he can do this from an emotionally healthy place. My advice to him and anyone is a similar position is: find a good therapist, if you haven’t already, and get clarity on this before you try to incorporate anything as highly complex as BDSM into an intimate relationship. And good luck to you.

I'm going to vent here for a moment about some internet silliness that occasionally happens to me.

Here's how it works: someone posts to a narrowly-targeted online community - one devoted to, say, BDSM or polyamory. They say something like, "I want to know how to communicate and be understood by people like you. I'm not one of you, but I wish to learn more about you."

I reply and explain some basic customs for dealing with us. For example: notice that we call ourselves polyamorous, not polygamous. Or: Don’t refer to anyone who likes a spanking now and then as a slave, that’s not accurate.

And then they reply, “Oh, you’re being way too nitpicky. You should just assume that I mean what you mean, it’s not important that I get all these details. You’re just trying to force me to be politically correct.”

Right. That’s me, all about the political correctness.

Rhetorical question: Why in the world would someone ask for my well-informed opinion about something and when I give it to them, get huffy and tell me since it doesn’t validate their assumptions, it can’t be correct?

That’s rhetorical because I know why. I know exactly why. It just makes me feel better to say it.

I just watched this video from CNBC about “high-end prostitution”. And it made me roll my eyes a lot.

Okay, on one hand, it’s really not bad at all. They have some great people in it, like Veronica Monet and Carol Leigh. They're fabulous. And the escorts they interviewed were all bright, articulate women who represented themselves and what they do very well. So from a strictly PR point of view, it’s fine.

What exasperates me is the fact that it’s a 40-minute slog over the same old clichéd ground. I didn’t see or hear one new thing in this video. In fact, I'll save you forty minutes and sum up the whole thing for you in a few lines…

“Women sometimes exchange sex for money. (Here’s some sexy pictures of women.) Sometimes a little money, sometimes a lot. (Here’s some more sexy pictures of women.) Some women like this and do it freely. Other women don’t. (Here’s some MORE sexy pictures of women.) Some people think this is bad, while others think it’s no big deal. Doesn’t seem likely to stop anytime soon. And, that’s our report. (Oh, here’s a few last sexy pictures of women.)”

That’s it. There was some focus on how the internet has changed sex work, which it very definitely has. For well over ten years now.

So - can any of this really be news to anyone past puberty? I mean, come on, people. This is not news. Perhaps you might classify it as a documentary. Perhaps. A rather dull documentary.

It’s like the editor had a staff meeting and said, “Okay, it’s time for something titillating but journalistically defensible. Give me a Number 317.”
“Okay, boss. That’s Expensive Call-Girl Story, right? Just the usual?”
“Yeah. Spin it out for forty minutes. Lots of pictures off the internet, and stock video footage of women putting on stockings and looking out windows. Put some footage of streetwalkers in there too, we gotta have some of those. And make sure you use that one voice-over actress, the one with the suggestive lilt. She could make a fast-food order sound like phone sex.”
“Sure thing. Have it on your desk by Thursday.”

This is a cookie-cutter story. It’s boring. It’s old. I mean, it’s really, really old. I think you can find the very first version of this story painted on a cave wall somewhere in picture form.

I get it that they have to fill up the hours. I get it that a lot of what’s called “news” is just entertainment. But good lord, with the resources at their disposal, you’d think CNBC might produce just one vaguely new and interesting thought in forty minutes.

Once again, I'm doing an informal survey from among the ladies of Seattle for a Stranger column.

The subject is a delicate one - it's about providers and race.

If you're willing to answer a couple of questions, and you can get back to me within 24 hours, I'd love to hear from you.

As always, all names will be changed. No identifying information of any kind will be seen by anyone but me, ever. (And I will never disclose it!)

Email me at MistressMatisse@gmail.com

This one made me laugh because... I, um, know some people who doe that thing about storeing food and water and stuff for an earthquake or swine flu or some other emergency. I tease them a little about it. And they reminds me that I'll be singing a different tune if there ever is an emergency when we need it.

My other thought was: I'm sorry, if one of my partner's partners was hanging around my house, drinking heavily at 9am, there would be some serious conversation between he and I about that. It would go something like this: "Take this girl out of the house, and never bring her back." There are a few simple but crucial rules for dealing with me, and one of them is: Do not bring your drama to my doorstep. Because I hate drama. You like drama? You have all the drama you want - somewhere else.

And a woman swilling jumbo cans of malt liquor in the morning and calling it "paradise" is drama waiting to happen. That's not a red flag, it's a red circus tent. No, it's a bright red hot-air balloon, and it's going to fall to earth very unpleasantly somewhere. But not on my house, no no. Because bottled water does not help you when that sort of disaster strikes.

Zombies. They’re sort of like bacon, aren’t they? (No, I don’t mean that you eat them. Everyone knows zombies eat us. We are the bacon, for zombies.)

I suppose you could say that bacon and zombies are alike in that they will both kill you if you don’t run far enough fast or fast enough.

But that’s not what I mean, either. No, I mean, zombies – like bacon - have been extra-fashionable lately.

Granted, I thought the whole bacon craze was a little much. I mean, I like meat-candy as well as anyone. But bacon martinis? No. And bacon on doughnuts? That is just wrong, wrong, wrong. We have to have some limits, people, or where will it end?

However, like bacon, zombies never truly go out of style. And what’s even more terrifying (to me) than zombies? Karaoke!

Thus, I am particularly disturbed, fascinated and highly amused by this blog, which features a bunch of zombie-themed parody song lyrics, with more added regularly. Apparently while zombies have a limited conversational repertoire (“Brains! Braaaaaaaains!), they like to sing. So, for your shambling, rotting karaoke pleasure, I give you: Zombaritaville.