I haven't forgotten you... I've been a busy girl for a few days. So, a real entry later, but for now, be amused by this blog post about translating polyamory-personal ads from the always sharp-witted Lilith, aka Cosmicbabe.
Meanwhile, I'm going go have lunch with an in-from-out-of-town relative. Sigh. (The things I do to please my mother.)
And then I'm going to come home and get ready to make a professional appearance at a foot-worship party.
Just another day in the life...
Saturday, June 26, 2004
Thursday, June 24, 2004
So, I'm much happier with life since I bought a new cell phone, but it does entail one tedious task: copying over my phone book. (Verizon should have been able to copy the numbers over to my new phone in some magical electronic way, but the gods that rule such things did not look kindly on me yesterday, and so they were mysteriously unable to do so. Thus, I'm doing it manually.)
Copying over the numbers of my friends is going to be the easy part. When I scroll through the list, I'm struck by how many of the one hundred memory slots are taken up by entries with names like this:
ASSHOLE
ASSHOLE2
BUTTHEAD
DIPSHIT
DON'TANSWER
DON'TANWER2
DUMBASS
FLAKE
FLAKE2
JERK
NO WAY
Et cetera, on through the alphabet. Most of them are guys I never met – they're just time-wasting telephone pests. I've forgotten exactly what transgression many of them committed, but some of them stick in one's head.
SMOKINGWEIRDO, for example, is a guy who called me weekly for – I think – several years.
"Do you smoke?" he'd ask. "I want to do a scene with a Mistress who's smoking."
"No, I don't," I'd say. "But I'm fine with using cigarettes in a scene."
"No, no, you have to really smoke them – inhale them."
"No, I don't want to that."
"Oh, come now, you smoke, I know you smoke, every beautiful Mistress smokes. I'll bring you some really sexy French cigarettes."
"No, I really don't smoke…"
We went around and around for at least two different phone calls – me telling him I didn't smoke, him insisting that I should. Then he got programmed in and I never picked up when he called any more.
BADBOY is this guy who'd call up, and when I said "hello?", he'd say, "I've been a bad, bad boy – don't you wanna spank me?" Then he'd laugh like a crazy person and hang up. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly amused with himself, he'd repeat his clever line one more time, and then hang up.
KINGCOUNTYJAIL speaks for itself. I cannot imagine the mindset of a man who thinks that a sex worker is going to take a collect call from anyone – let alone someone who's in jail, for chrissake. And to me – a dominatrix? I mean, come on guys, aren't you already having a pretty intense dominant/submissive experience? I think I'd feel a little inadequate after that...
NOENGLISH1, NOENGLISH2, and NOENGLISH3 have taught me that, apparently, Americans are not the only ones who raise our voices when we talk to foreigners because we think it'll make them understand what the hell we're saying.
YUCK! Is the guy who wants to talk about scat. And I don't mean jazz music.
Copying over the numbers of my friends is going to be the easy part. When I scroll through the list, I'm struck by how many of the one hundred memory slots are taken up by entries with names like this:
ASSHOLE
ASSHOLE2
BUTTHEAD
DIPSHIT
DON'TANSWER
DON'TANWER2
DUMBASS
FLAKE
FLAKE2
JERK
NO WAY
Et cetera, on through the alphabet. Most of them are guys I never met – they're just time-wasting telephone pests. I've forgotten exactly what transgression many of them committed, but some of them stick in one's head.
SMOKINGWEIRDO, for example, is a guy who called me weekly for – I think – several years.
"Do you smoke?" he'd ask. "I want to do a scene with a Mistress who's smoking."
"No, I don't," I'd say. "But I'm fine with using cigarettes in a scene."
"No, no, you have to really smoke them – inhale them."
"No, I don't want to that."
"Oh, come now, you smoke, I know you smoke, every beautiful Mistress smokes. I'll bring you some really sexy French cigarettes."
"No, I really don't smoke…"
We went around and around for at least two different phone calls – me telling him I didn't smoke, him insisting that I should. Then he got programmed in and I never picked up when he called any more.
BADBOY is this guy who'd call up, and when I said "hello?", he'd say, "I've been a bad, bad boy – don't you wanna spank me?" Then he'd laugh like a crazy person and hang up. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly amused with himself, he'd repeat his clever line one more time, and then hang up.
KINGCOUNTYJAIL speaks for itself. I cannot imagine the mindset of a man who thinks that a sex worker is going to take a collect call from anyone – let alone someone who's in jail, for chrissake. And to me – a dominatrix? I mean, come on guys, aren't you already having a pretty intense dominant/submissive experience? I think I'd feel a little inadequate after that...
NOENGLISH1, NOENGLISH2, and NOENGLISH3 have taught me that, apparently, Americans are not the only ones who raise our voices when we talk to foreigners because we think it'll make them understand what the hell we're saying.
YUCK! Is the guy who wants to talk about scat. And I don't mean jazz music.
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
Updates...
Please note that Mike – the secondary partner to whom I recently bid a fond farewell – has been removed from the "Cast of Characters" page, and he has been replaced by two new (and very interesting) people…As-yet unrealized sexual tension is in the air, my friends, and I'm enjoying it. I mean, I'll enjoy the "realizing" part, whenever it happens. But there's something to be said for the build-up.
On other fronts, as all of you who read The Stranger now know, my column will not be in the paper version of The Stranger for awhile. I expect to be returning soon, but for right now, they want to use me as bait to lure you to the brand spankin' new personals ad site they've built. So, go forth and explore the Lovelab/Lustlab...
And if you have an opinion about my column returning to the paper, please direct your polite emails to the good people at The Stranger, who welcome your feedback…
Please note that Mike – the secondary partner to whom I recently bid a fond farewell – has been removed from the "Cast of Characters" page, and he has been replaced by two new (and very interesting) people…As-yet unrealized sexual tension is in the air, my friends, and I'm enjoying it. I mean, I'll enjoy the "realizing" part, whenever it happens. But there's something to be said for the build-up.
On other fronts, as all of you who read The Stranger now know, my column will not be in the paper version of The Stranger for awhile. I expect to be returning soon, but for right now, they want to use me as bait to lure you to the brand spankin' new personals ad site they've built. So, go forth and explore the Lovelab/Lustlab...
And if you have an opinion about my column returning to the paper, please direct your polite emails to the good people at The Stranger, who welcome your feedback…
Note to my friends: I just got a new cell phone - I switched from AT&T, the worlds lamest wireless service provider, to Verizon. (I kept the same number, of course.) Naturally there are being some bumps along the way, and I think I lost a few existing voicemail messages on my AT&T account. If you left me a message after about 2pm yesterday, I may not have gotten it. And if you were trying reach me late yesterday or early today and had trouble, that's why. Persevere, and all will be well.
Off into my day...
Off into my day...
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
In A New York State Of Mind...
Ring ring!
Me: Hello?
Caller: Yeah, is this Mistress Matisse? So, hey - I wanted to ask you a question.
The first thing I notice about this guy is that he's got a really heavy "Noo Yawk" accent. Now, I'm sure there are plenty of very nice and genuinely submissive guys who happen to sound like this, but somehow, I haven't met them. When I hear this accent, I remember several seriously annoying clients I had, early in my career, who talked like this. All of them were about as truly submissive as Genghis Khan, and all of them topped from the bottom in a rude, disruptive manner that drove me nuts - and I'm actually relatively forgiving about such things.
But hey, maybe this guy will be different. I'll give him a chance - for at least thirty seconds.
Me: Okay, what's your question?
Caller: So, I'm going to be coming out to Seattle on business, and I was wondering - do you do extreme scenes?
Me: Well, it depends on exactly what you mean. But as long as it isn't anything that's going to do permanent damage to your body, yes, we can talk about it.
Caller: It's like – I like doing really, really extreme stuff, and it's hard to find Mistresses who'll do the stuff that I like.
A red flag goes up. There are plenty of Mistresses who'll do heavy play around. He must want something really out there if he's having trouble finding anyone to do it. So I say, cautiously -
Me: Why don't you tell me what exactly it is you're looking for?
Caller: I wanna do a scene where you come to my motel room and I'm asleep, and you tie me up and gag me and beat the shit out of me and fuck me up the ass really hard. And so matter what I say, I don't want you to stop, I don't want to have a safeword.
Well, you have to give the guy credit for putting his fantasy out there. But this isn't going to work for me.
Me: You know, I think that's a great fantasy, but I'm not going to be comfortable doing something like that with someone I don't know.
Actually, I don't think I'd do it even with someone I did know, just because it's not my fetish. But that's not really the point I'm going to try to make here.
Me: But I'd be happy to talk to you about a somewhat modified version of that fantasy.
Caller: You know, I think if I'm gonna pay for it, I should get it the way I want it. Why would you not be willing to do it?
Okay, so he's not different. He's rude, and he's now going to try to pick apart my reasons for not giving him what he wants, his way. It's probably a lost cause, but let's see if we can make him understand why he's having a hard time getting his fantasy catered to.
Me: Because I don't know you, I don't know your physical limits, I don't have experience in reading your body, and without a safeword, I can't be sure I'll be able to tell when you've reached your limit.
Caller: But I want to feel really out of control, and this is the only way I can do that. I thought you said you did extreme scenes?
Oh, I'm not liking his tone here. Anyone who knows me well knows that I'm very happy to do physically extreme SM. You want your ass beaten until it bleeds? Great. You want needles all over your slippery bits? Love to. You want to be electrified until your eyes roll back in your head and your throat hurts from screaming? Darlin', we'll get along just fine.
But I have some limits, and one of them is that you have to consent – and keep on consenting - in a way that I can feel.
Me: I do. But I don't do no-safeword scenes with strangers. Or rather, I would – but not physically extreme ones. If you wanted me to put you over my knee and spank your ass with my bare hand and not stop until I was ready to, that would be fine, because I'd know I wasn't going to damage you and I'd be able to read your body pretty easily. But in your scene, there are just too many variables.
Caller: Well, I don't think I should have to pay for it if it isn't my fantasy. How about this – how about if you do a scene with me, and if it's really good and it makes me feel like I'm really out of control, then I'll pay you. But if it doesn't, then I won't.
I wish I could say this was the stupidest thing anyone has ever asked me. Unfortunately, it's not. (If you've been reading here for a while, you'll know I'm right.) But it's definitely in the top twenty-five or so.
Me: You know what, this isn't going to work. Good bye…
Caller: Hey, hey, hey, don't hang up!
Me: I thought you said you didn't have a safeword.
Click.
I hang up.
(Postscript: After I wrote this, I remembered that I do know one very cool New York guy...You know who you are, and I'm pleased that you're the exception to the rule...)
Ring ring!
Me: Hello?
Caller: Yeah, is this Mistress Matisse? So, hey - I wanted to ask you a question.
The first thing I notice about this guy is that he's got a really heavy "Noo Yawk" accent. Now, I'm sure there are plenty of very nice and genuinely submissive guys who happen to sound like this, but somehow, I haven't met them. When I hear this accent, I remember several seriously annoying clients I had, early in my career, who talked like this. All of them were about as truly submissive as Genghis Khan, and all of them topped from the bottom in a rude, disruptive manner that drove me nuts - and I'm actually relatively forgiving about such things.
But hey, maybe this guy will be different. I'll give him a chance - for at least thirty seconds.
Me: Okay, what's your question?
Caller: So, I'm going to be coming out to Seattle on business, and I was wondering - do you do extreme scenes?
Me: Well, it depends on exactly what you mean. But as long as it isn't anything that's going to do permanent damage to your body, yes, we can talk about it.
Caller: It's like – I like doing really, really extreme stuff, and it's hard to find Mistresses who'll do the stuff that I like.
A red flag goes up. There are plenty of Mistresses who'll do heavy play around. He must want something really out there if he's having trouble finding anyone to do it. So I say, cautiously -
Me: Why don't you tell me what exactly it is you're looking for?
Caller: I wanna do a scene where you come to my motel room and I'm asleep, and you tie me up and gag me and beat the shit out of me and fuck me up the ass really hard. And so matter what I say, I don't want you to stop, I don't want to have a safeword.
Well, you have to give the guy credit for putting his fantasy out there. But this isn't going to work for me.
Me: You know, I think that's a great fantasy, but I'm not going to be comfortable doing something like that with someone I don't know.
Actually, I don't think I'd do it even with someone I did know, just because it's not my fetish. But that's not really the point I'm going to try to make here.
Me: But I'd be happy to talk to you about a somewhat modified version of that fantasy.
Caller: You know, I think if I'm gonna pay for it, I should get it the way I want it. Why would you not be willing to do it?
Okay, so he's not different. He's rude, and he's now going to try to pick apart my reasons for not giving him what he wants, his way. It's probably a lost cause, but let's see if we can make him understand why he's having a hard time getting his fantasy catered to.
Me: Because I don't know you, I don't know your physical limits, I don't have experience in reading your body, and without a safeword, I can't be sure I'll be able to tell when you've reached your limit.
Caller: But I want to feel really out of control, and this is the only way I can do that. I thought you said you did extreme scenes?
Oh, I'm not liking his tone here. Anyone who knows me well knows that I'm very happy to do physically extreme SM. You want your ass beaten until it bleeds? Great. You want needles all over your slippery bits? Love to. You want to be electrified until your eyes roll back in your head and your throat hurts from screaming? Darlin', we'll get along just fine.
But I have some limits, and one of them is that you have to consent – and keep on consenting - in a way that I can feel.
Me: I do. But I don't do no-safeword scenes with strangers. Or rather, I would – but not physically extreme ones. If you wanted me to put you over my knee and spank your ass with my bare hand and not stop until I was ready to, that would be fine, because I'd know I wasn't going to damage you and I'd be able to read your body pretty easily. But in your scene, there are just too many variables.
Caller: Well, I don't think I should have to pay for it if it isn't my fantasy. How about this – how about if you do a scene with me, and if it's really good and it makes me feel like I'm really out of control, then I'll pay you. But if it doesn't, then I won't.
I wish I could say this was the stupidest thing anyone has ever asked me. Unfortunately, it's not. (If you've been reading here for a while, you'll know I'm right.) But it's definitely in the top twenty-five or so.
Me: You know what, this isn't going to work. Good bye…
Caller: Hey, hey, hey, don't hang up!
Me: I thought you said you didn't have a safeword.
Click.
I hang up.
(Postscript: After I wrote this, I remembered that I do know one very cool New York guy...You know who you are, and I'm pleased that you're the exception to the rule...)
Monday, June 21, 2004
I see that my fellow sex writer Dan Savage is writing about erotic electric stimulation this week... Good info, if you're curious about it.
Sunday, June 20, 2004
I'm busy writing a column just now... But, for my fellow bibliophiles out there, here's what I've been reading lately.
Edison's Eve: A Magical History Of The Quest For Mechanical Life by Gaby Wood
Very interesting book about 18th and 19th C. explorations of robotics.
The Turk: The Life and Times of the Famous Eighteenth-Century Chess-Playing Machine, by Tom Standage
A specific history of one early robot, which played chess – and won – with humans. Unsurprisingly, it turns out there was actually a person hidden inside, directing the chess moves. Still, an absorbing account of how it was done, and how people of that time reacted to the machine.
The Speckled Monster: A Historical Tale Of Battling Smallpox, by Jennifer Lee Carrell
Very interesting, if occasionally gross, description of smallpox, and the development of the vaccination for it, in the 18th C. I knew it was a deadly disease, but I had no idea it was so extremely disgusting and painful in it's manifestation. It would, indeed, be an effective bio-weapon in the hands of someone desperate enough to use such an uncontrollable tool.
Sharpe's Eagle: Richard Sharpe and the Talavera Campaign, by Richard Cornwell
One of the books in the excellent "Richard Sharpe" series - sort of the "Rambo" of the late 18th and early 19th C. wars. I wouldn't call them "lit-ra-choor", but it's great action/adventure reading - I'm working my way through the whole series chronologically and enjoying them a great deal.
By the Sword: A History of Gladiators, Musketeers, Samurai, Swashbucklers, and Olympic Champions, by Richard Cohen
A broad overview of the history of the sword and of sword use, and the culture of the sword. Occasionally meandering, but with many spots of interest to a pop-history junkie like me.
The Distinctive Book of Redneck Baby Names , by Linda Barth
Just what is says – complete with smart-ass remarks about the probable characteristics that go along with each individual name. Extremely funny, especially to any who, like me, grew up in the South and has known many people who actually had names like Eldred, Chet, Carlene and Maybelle.
The Devil in White City: Murder, Magic and Madness At The Fair That Changed America, by Erik Larson.
The true story about the architect, Daniel Burnham, who designed the 1893 World's Fair in Chicago, and the serial killer, H.H. Homes, who used the fair to lure his victims to their death. Not bad, but the part about Daniel Burnham bogged down sometimes, and the author was annoying coy about the details of the murders committed by Holmes.
Edison's Eve: A Magical History Of The Quest For Mechanical Life by Gaby Wood
Very interesting book about 18th and 19th C. explorations of robotics.
The Turk: The Life and Times of the Famous Eighteenth-Century Chess-Playing Machine, by Tom Standage
A specific history of one early robot, which played chess – and won – with humans. Unsurprisingly, it turns out there was actually a person hidden inside, directing the chess moves. Still, an absorbing account of how it was done, and how people of that time reacted to the machine.
The Speckled Monster: A Historical Tale Of Battling Smallpox, by Jennifer Lee Carrell
Very interesting, if occasionally gross, description of smallpox, and the development of the vaccination for it, in the 18th C. I knew it was a deadly disease, but I had no idea it was so extremely disgusting and painful in it's manifestation. It would, indeed, be an effective bio-weapon in the hands of someone desperate enough to use such an uncontrollable tool.
Sharpe's Eagle: Richard Sharpe and the Talavera Campaign, by Richard Cornwell
One of the books in the excellent "Richard Sharpe" series - sort of the "Rambo" of the late 18th and early 19th C. wars. I wouldn't call them "lit-ra-choor", but it's great action/adventure reading - I'm working my way through the whole series chronologically and enjoying them a great deal.
By the Sword: A History of Gladiators, Musketeers, Samurai, Swashbucklers, and Olympic Champions, by Richard Cohen
A broad overview of the history of the sword and of sword use, and the culture of the sword. Occasionally meandering, but with many spots of interest to a pop-history junkie like me.
The Distinctive Book of Redneck Baby Names , by Linda Barth
Just what is says – complete with smart-ass remarks about the probable characteristics that go along with each individual name. Extremely funny, especially to any who, like me, grew up in the South and has known many people who actually had names like Eldred, Chet, Carlene and Maybelle.
The Devil in White City: Murder, Magic and Madness At The Fair That Changed America, by Erik Larson.
The true story about the architect, Daniel Burnham, who designed the 1893 World's Fair in Chicago, and the serial killer, H.H. Homes, who used the fair to lure his victims to their death. Not bad, but the part about Daniel Burnham bogged down sometimes, and the author was annoying coy about the details of the murders committed by Holmes.
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