I made an flip remark in a post Tuesday about not running a dating service. It's true, I'm not. But sometimes I amuse myself thinking about doing just that.

It would be a highly selective service, this fantasy business of mine, and I'd only accept clients who I felt displayed the utmost sincerity in their desires. Maybe I'd even audition each client by playing with them, just so I'd really be able to tell prospective match-ups all about them. Finding the right person might take a while, but eventually, I'd hook them up with the pervy partner of their dreams.

I'd able to tell all the sweet single submissive men who are looking for a Mistress how to present themselves, how to charm and delight her in that first meeting, what to say, what to do, how to win her. And I'd know how to attract single dominant women to my business, because, after all, I've been one.

But it wouldn't just be Mistresses and male submissives - I'd take all kinds of clients. Dominant or submissive, male or female, whatever. As long as you're kinky and you met my requirements, I'd do my best to find you a partner.

But my requirements would be stringent. For starters, you'd have to be at least somewhat active in the BDSM community, because I think it keep our kink in perspective to be around other perverts on a regular basis. You learn that you are neither the biggest and baddest, nor the smallest and meekest. You learn that everyone starts out not knowing shit, everyone makes mistakes, and everyone's kink evolves and mutates over the years.

I'd probably reserve the right to demand a fashion and grooming makeover, if I felt the situation called for it.

There would be a reading list of BDSM theory, history, and famous fiction, and maybe even a written test on these things.

(It is not lost on me that these three requirements are also things I set out as rules when I take on a personal submissive. I may be a control-queen, but hey, I'm a self-aware control-queen.)

Whatever your preferences might be, you would have to pass a basic competency test in that arena.

And I think registered Republicans would pay double, because finding a partner might lead to them having children, and I feel that there should be some kind of environmental impact fee for that.

There's only one small problem with this appealing fantasy: I'd go bankrupt, because there's no money in this. But it's a lovely idea, and I'd be very, very good at it. I mean, it's quite similar to what I do now: I have a select clientele, I get people to tell me about who they are, and what their desires are, and then, working together, we fulfill those desires.

But I swear I must have been a matchmaker in a former life. Even now, I've got a femme lesbian friend, a top, who's looking for a butch bottom, and I'm going to be helping her with that…And I know two other pretty women who are looking for dominant men, and I think of them when I meet toppy guys sometimes, wondering, Hmmn, would she like him? Maybe I should introduce him to her…

So that's one of my fantasy careers – running a kinky matchmaker service.

I had a busy day today - one client earlier, and the gym in the evening, but the afternoon in between was devoted to...shopping.
Even though I am a somewhat girly-girl, I don't always like shopping for clothes. I have to be in the mood. And today I was, apparently, because I spent a fair amount of money.
But I got cool things - boots, and a cute jacket, and a bunch of other stuff. There's a big pile o' Nordstrom bags in the bedroom!
So, be sure to go read the newest column, which is a thinly-veiled account of a party I went to over the weekend. See if you can spot one of the blog-comment regulars in the piece...
And also, everyone please go over to Monk's blog and read the really wonderfully sweet piece he's written about his wife. It's their anniversary tomorrow.

The Most Common Mistake

Ring ring!

Me: Hello?
Caller: Hi, is this Mistress Matisse? I wanted to see about making an appointment.
Me: Okay, have I seen you before?
Caller: No, I've never done this. I've seen escorts, though.
Me: Well, that's fine, but what I do is different – you do understand that, right?
Caller: Yeah, yeah, I've looked at your webpage.
Me: What's your first name?
Caller: Mark.
Me: Okay, Mark, why don't you talk to me a little about what you're looking for in a session?

This is the place where a lot of calls go wrong, and this caller seems likely to be one of them. His tone of voice is the tip-off; he's talking in a fast, almost impatient-sounding voice, like he wants to hurry the conversation along. But I will not be rushed when I'm assessing a possible client. You'll stay on the phone with me until I decide you're okay – or not.

Caller: I'm looking for strap-on play.

Uh-oh. This caller has just placed himself directly under the sword of Damocles. I try to steer him to safer territory.

Me: Mark, you did say you'd looked at my website, yes?
Caller: Yeah. I mean, not every page or anything.
Me: Okay, Mark, are there other things you'd be looking for in a session?
Caller: No, just the anal play. You do that, right?

Now, dear readers, let us pause and reflect. Rules, they say, are made to be broken. And who among us has not broken a few? You there, sir, smoking a joint. And you, madam, driving over the speed limit. And you there, with the shifty look about you – just where did you get that Cuban cigar?
So it will not stun any of you to know that, yes, I occasionally break a few rules myself. But the hallmark of the adroit rule-breaker is subtlety and good judgment. I possess both those traits – it's the secret of my success.
This man, on the other hand, has called up a complete stranger and is asking her to do agree to do something illegal. Not subtle, and not good judgment, either. How do you think you'd respond in her situation?

Me: No, I can't do anal penetration for money. That's considered sex, and it's illegal.
Caller: You can't do that?
Me: No, I don't do sex for money.
Caller: But that's not really sex.
Me: Well, the DA's office seems to think that it is. Perhaps you might call them and speak to them about that.
Caller: So you really won't do it?
Me: That is what I've said.
Caller: Do you know anyone who does?
Me: So you're asking me to refer you to someone who does do something illegal? No. If you want to talk about a session that involves something else, we can discuss that.
Caller: No, I just want – oh –

Click.

He hangs up. I'm relieved, because I didn't feel like going around and around in the "but I really really want you to…" loop another three or four times, as I often have to do. Moral of the story: when venturing into foreign lands, learn the customs and speak as the natives do.

From The Mailbag:

Dear Mistress Matisse,
I've been reading your blog. It's okay, but you need to tell more stories about your clients and about sex. Why don't you tell more juicy details?

Because unlike some ladies who blog about their sex work careers, I am not anonymous. I use my working-professional name, and I show my face. So I'm an identifiable person – as I've mentioned in other posts, it's getting to the point where strangers recognize me in public – and thus I have to live with the real-time repercussions of everything I say. Discretion and diplomacy are called for.

I'm looking for a mistress to play with. I'm not really into what you're into? I'm into forced feminization. I live in the seattle area. Do you know of a mistress in the seattle area that's into this?

Well, yes, I probably do, although I don't always inquire closely into other people's fetish tastes unless I'm planning on playing with them myself. But I'm not running a dating service, sorry.

my mistress Mataisse
i spend very long time with yr home page i find it very very nice ad u r very very buety i like to be yr servant ad kiss ad lick yr nice feet
yr feet servant…

Always nice to know those for whom English is (sort of) a second language are liking me…Gotta teach them about that F7 thing, though…

As The Hit Counter Turns...

Spins around wildly, more like...That's how you know you've been mentioned on Belle's blog. So I'll have to look in my "blog topics" file and pull out a appropriately ridiculous phone call to tell you about later today...

Wormwood Thoughts

It's been a busy weekend for me, but after brunch at the B&O today I was flipping through - yes, I admit it - the Seattle Weakly, and reading their piece about drinking absinthe.

Now, I very rarely drink alcohol - meaning, about three or four times a year. (Although Roman showing up for dates with champagne upped that average a bit lately...) It's not because of any moral position, I just don't care that much for it. And I also have a pretty low physical tolerance for alcohol, so even one or two drinks affect me rather strongly. A very drunk girl, giggling and singing, can be amusing enough in, say, one's first year or two at college. After that, it very swiftly becomes much less cute, in my opinion. One wants to limit that kind of behavior to a private setting, with one's very dearest friends, about once every five years or so.

And I associate absinthe with a lot of fin-de-sicle ex-pats living in Paris, and I did have the vague idea that it was poisonous. But this line describing the (supposed) effects of absinthe struck a bit of a chord with me..."the dragging murkiness you get from beer or vodka is replaced by a sensual alertness that’s generally foreign to heavy alcohol consumption."

Well, that sounds somewhat appealing, since that dragging murky feeling is one of the other reasons I generally do not drink. Hmmn, I may have to try some of that stuff, just for the hell of it.

Oh, and nothing to do with absinthe, but a sweet intoxicant just the same - some very lovely thoughts about talking dirty...