Email Silliness...

Dear Mistress,
Your website is penetrating, poignant and articulate. And indeed, You are absolutely stunning, Mistress Matisse, as You must surely know. I am a handsome and well-built 35 year old man from London. Whilst successful in the vanilla world, I crave to give it all up to live as a pathetic slave who has nothing but love and obedience towards his rightful Female Owner. And as You are the most beautiful Mistress in the world, I am already humbled by You and crave to submit to You.

Well, it's always nice to be told I'm beautiful, although it strains even my credulity to believe that I'm "the most beautiful Mistress in the world". I'd like to know exactly how much research he did to arrive at that conclusion.
And I'm pleased to hear that he finds me articulate – but just based on this first paragraph, I have a feeling he may not have really grasped what I try to convey about my style of dominance, since pathetic slaves really aren’t my thing. I prefer slightly sassy ones, who sometimes laugh while I'm torturing them.

I hope that my Owner-to-be will eventually take everything from me over a sustained period - my manhood, my real estate, my assets and my inheritance. And better still to expose my demise and castration on Her website, whilst I am photographed naked, weeping, genderless and penniless whilst Mistress is amused at my plight and maybe even wearing my former testicles as ear-rings to display Her supremacy over me, hence total humiliation is complete.

Honey, if I'm wearing your balls as earrings, I will be the one who is humiliated. Testicle earrings are so five minutes ago! The new thing now is to put them into a lava lamp, in either a blood red or milky white fluid.

I wish to ask you whether you have experience in luring a (vanilla) successful submissive man into a safe and legal medical castration (by professionals) in tandem with signing his life and assets to You?

Ah, yes, my good friends and professional associates, the Safe and Legal Medical Castrators, LLC. Just look them up in the yellow pages! They do a sideline in getting people to sign over assets while under sedation. It's a pricey extra service, but I have always found it worthwhile in the dozens of other cases where I've had them safely and legally castrate someone for me.
I just call them up and say, "I'm luring in a successful man! He's vanilla! Can you get us in at 2?"
"Sure!" they say cheerfully. "Would you like the testicle earrings with that?" They don't realize, you see, and I'm sure some mistresses who are not as hip as I am are still wearing those silly testicle earrings, not realizing that they are so out of fashion.

If so, do You maintain a D/s relationship with Your subjects who undergo this?

No, once I've milked you dry – so to speak – I will throw you, naked, weeping, genderless and penniless out into the snow to die. (But perhaps you won't die. Perhaps, instead, you'll crawl away into the woods, where you'll hide. You'll survive by eating insects and berries and trapping small animals, gradually regaining your strength, and you'll continue living in the woods in a crudely constructed hut. The local villagers will fear you as a madman, but one day you'll encounter a lost traveler who's desperately ill, and you'll take him into your hut and nurse him back to health with your newly-learned herbal lore. He'll turn out to be a Jedi Knight, who's on his way to help otherthrow the evil Lord Vader, and as a reward for saving his life you'll ask him to take you with him as his sidekick and train you in the ways of a Jedi, so that you can eventually take your revenge on me, and he'll decide to say yes, without knowing that, in the interval of time that's passed, I've actually become Lord Vader's girlfriend, and…No, wait, wait, wait – that's a whole different movie!)

And then there's the emails that balance him out.

Matisse:
I'll tell you what- I just want to get my huge cock in your hot vagina, save the torture for some wuss. I want to mount you, because I am KING STUD!!!
Thanks sweetheart…

"Ooooh, mount me, baby, mount me now!" Mount? What the fuck kind of word is that? Has this ignoranus been reading too many romance novels or something? Or maybe animal husbandry – it's hard to say. Why is it that the ones who really need their balls cut off never ask for it?

I had a lovely, lovely time with Roman last night…details on that later, since I'm about to plunge into a busy day.
I will note that - big event here - Roman stayed over last night. Meaning, he slept with me in the literal sense, as well as the euphemistic. That's only the second time in a roughly six-month relationship. (Usually we play at my studio, and then we both stagger home at some ungodly hour.)
Sleeping with a secondary has generally been a limit for him, and the first time we did it, during the Week Of Wickedness, he was sort of endearingly nervous about breaking his own rule. But it was fine, and then lately he told me, "I'd like to do that again." So we played at my house, and then slept together, and it was…very sweet. A nice marker for a relationship.

Meanwhile, if you're in Seattle, don't forget about my darling primary partner Max's bondage class this Sunday…I'll be there with him, doing my kinky Vanna White impersonation. (No sequined dresses, though.)

Fixed Point Bondage - Soft Flesh, Unyielding Objects
Sunday December 5th
2:30 PM to 5:30 PM at the Wet Spot in Seattle

Remember Little Nell on the railroad tracks?
Learn how to tie your lover to a variety of objects, from posts to chairs to bamboo poles.
This month's workshop presents a number of ways to tie your partner to something else. We'll cover a few basic knots and techniques, do a very nice demo, and then spend the bulk of the workshop practicing positions involving fixed points and/or pieces of bamboo.
The positions presented are broadly adaptable and don't require special hardware or equipment. In fact, we'll be using the furniture, posts, doors and other fixtures in ways guaranteed to get your creative juices flowing.
While some familiarity with rope and bondage will be useful, this workshop assumes no previous bondage experience. The knots presented in the workshop are all pretty simple - the fun is in the things we'll do with those basic knots.
Most of the class will consist of hands-on exercises so you'll have plenty of time to practice and enjoy what you've learned. And, as always, the handout distributed at the workshop will help you when you practice at home.
If you can, come with a practice partner. If you don't have a partner, come anyway and we'll make sure you get a chance to practice the basic techniques. Rope Bottoms - this is your chance to meet some rope tops - come learn and get tied up!
Some rope will be provided for the workshop, but bring four 10’ lengths and three 20-30’ lengths of 3/8” rope if you can.

Registration and Fees
Workshop fee: $30
Workshop + party (Wet Spot members only): $35

Wet Spot membership is NOT required for the workshop. Please bring ID to verify that you're at least 18 years old.

The "Bondage is the Point" party afterward is limited to Wet Spot members, who will receive a $5 discount if they attend both the workshop and the party.

Apparently I should have cultivated a taste for caviar instead…Bad weather and pest problems have created a tomato shortage. That's bad news for me, since la pomme d'amour is one of my favorite foods, either cooked or raw. QFC sells me a whole lot of those vine-ripened tomatoes in the little plastic boxes, even though they're so bloody expensive I think that I could buy good quality heroin for less money. And now they're going to be more so, apparently. Sigh.

Interesting article about managing jealousy in poly relationships…

A twistedly humorous page about military discipline - or, not.

Speaking of discipline, here's something kinky: Steve Unfreid, a principal at a Christian school, was fired for being voluntary whipped in front of two students. Steve, Steve, Steve - those paperback books you've been hiding in the garage? Those are fiction. Really.

And speaking of being voluntarily whipped...I have a date with Roman tonight, and I'm definitely of a mind to be evil. No flogging, I don't think. I did that last time, and one doesn't want to be too predictable. However, Roman has thrown down a gauntlet or two lately, and hey, call me easily manipulated, but I do like to rise to a challenge from a lover. (Of course, Roman rises to challenges very nicely himself. I do like that in a man.)
There may well be pictures. Perhaps even video. Possess your souls in patience, and maybe I'll post one within a few days...

Event Notes…

So the Sex Life Live show taping at ReBar last night went well. (Much more fun this time than the last time I worked with Dane, because I was actually sick as a dog for that one.) We had a good-sized crowd, and they seemed to enjoy me, as well as Allena Gabosch, Caroline from The Stranger, and Monk. You'll have to check Monk's blog for his version of events, but I think we done good. When the show goes live on the Sex Life website, I'll post a note…

Best left-handed compliment of the night: in the midst of a swirl of people talking to me after the show, a sweet young thing rushed up, saying, "Mistress, mistress, mistress!" excitedly.

Erg. Now, I'm quite fine with being introduced to people as "Mistress Matisse", because that is my professional title. But in fact, I really prefer people wanting to converse with me one-on-one to just address me as Matisse. Unless I'm actually playing with you (or you are my contracted personal submissive), calling me "mistress" – well, it's just a shade too familiar.

But that's a very fine point of BDSM etiquette, and not one most people could be expected to know. This girl clearly meant no harm, so I smiled at her. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to tell you, I've been reading your column, and I kind of had a certain mental image of you from that, and I just had to tell you; wow, you're like, so much hotter in person than I thought you'd be! It's amazing!"

Um. Okay. Thank you. I think. (What, do I write like an ugly person?) I do give her credit for good intentions - it was obvious she meant to be paying me a compliment. But – hmmn.

I just smiled again and thanked her for coming to the show.

I also met someone else who is a blog reader – or so her friend claimed. So, greetings to The Woman in White Overalls.

A note about video clips, because I got a plaintive little email about this today - because of the bandwidth issues presented by maintaining a permanent archive of all the clips, the clip will be replaced each week. (Or I should say, each clip will be replaced by its successor. I may not have something video-able every single week.)
What that means is that if see something you love and will want to watch again and again, download it to your hard drive - for your personal use only, of course - because it will go away soon.

So, it's Video Clip Day, and this week I've decided it time to show you the latest bizarre toy in my collection: The Fucking Machine. Now, before you get all excited: this clip is just of the machine. There is no victim attached, sorry. (If some cute girl or boy volunteers themselves as a video star in the future, I'll think about that.)

But I thought it might amuse those of you who've not seen such a thing before. And even if you have, like snowflakes, few fucking machine are precisely the same...

I was going to lay a music track over this clip, but Max said, "Oh no, you should let people hear the the sound it makes."

Be aware that this mechanical delight lives at my house, not at the location where I see my clients. So if you are thinking of coming to see me in my professional capacity, you need not fear it's insistent attentions.

As usual, hosting for the clip has been generously provided by Twisted Monk, a man who is not afraid to accessorize his cock with miniature mariachi hats and tiny guitars. (Don't try this at home, kids, he's a professional.)
Click Here To See "The Fucking Machine"

Downloaded from ITunes lately…

All My Life, by Foo Fighters
Barrel of a Gun, by Depeche Mode
Bela Lugosi's Dead, by Bauhaus
Born Under A Bad Sign, by the Neville Brothers & Buddy Guy
Brave and Crazy, by Melissa Etheridege
Can't Get You Out Of My Head, by Kylie Minogue
I Put A Spell On You, By Screaming Jay Hawkins
Nights In White Satin, by The Moody Blues
Paper In Fire, By John Mellancamp
Personal Jesus, by Johhny Cash
Rubberneckin' by Elvis, the Paul Oakenfold Remix
Sex Is Violent, by Diamanda Galás & Jane's Addiction
She's Tight, by Cheap Trick
Show Me How To Live, by AudioSlave

I have very eclectic taste in music, and since I'm not a music-scene hipster, I have always relied upon the kindness of strangers (and friends) to expand my musical horizons. Any suggestions?

Miss K and I were sitting in Hana during one of our weekly dinners, talking about work.
"So there's this guy I saw once, a long time ago, who's still calling me. I mean, I saw him when you still had your old dungeon, off Dexter Avenue," she began.
"God, that was five years ago. You saw him once and he still calls you?"
"Yeah, and I didn't like him, so I don't want to see him again. And I've got his number programmed into the phone so I usually know not to answer. But this one time a couple of days ago I didn't look at the caller ID before I picked up, and of course, it was him."
"Fuck, don't you hate that?"
"Yeah, and it's like – how do you say 'no' and get off the phone gracefully?"
"What'd you do?" I asked.
"Well, he hardly lets you get a word in edgewise - he was going on and on about wanting to see me again. He has this panty fetish, and I don't mean sexy panties, I mean he has a thing for granny panties." She made a face. "Really ugly big white polyester granny panties."
"Let me guess – he brought you some to the session you had with him and asked you to wear them?"
"Yep. And I did. If you're paying me, and you like ugly panties, hey, I'll put 'em on for you. Whatever floats your boat." She took a sip of her water. "Within reason, that is. If they want really weird shit, I send them to you." She grinned.
"Oh, thank you ever so much, dear," I said. "But I can do without any guy who's still calling the same escort for five years even though she never calls him back. That's a little freaky."
"You're telling me. So I said to him, 'You know, honey, you should call someone else, because I really don't think we're very compatible'."
"How'd he take that?"
"Oh, he started trying to persuade me to change my mind. He said, 'No, no, you don't understand, I've been dreaming of you all this time'."
"All this time? What is he, Rip Van Winkle?"
"Oh, wait, it gets better," she said. "Then he tells me how he wants to see me so much, that I was a goddess, that our session together was the best one he ever had, etc. And he wanted to know if I still had the panties that he gave me in our session together."
I laughed. "He wanted to know if you'd saved his granny panties for five years? Well, I'm guessing they'd be in perfect shape because you never, ever wore them again."
"Yeah, except I think I used them to wipe bird shit off my car right after I saw him. So I explained to him that no, I didn't have his panties - and he asked me 'Why not? Did you gain weight or something?'"
"Smooth talker, huh?"
She snorted. "Yeah. I said, no, I hadn't, that I was still the same size as the last time he saw me, and I was going on to say that I didn't save them because I didn't want to do another session with him, but he interrupted me and said, "Tell me what you look like again?'"
I started to laugh. "Wait, wait, wait – you're saying this guy told you that you were a goddess, and that he's been dreaming of you for five years, and then asked you what you looked like?"
She pressed her tongue deeply into her cheek and nodded, eyes closed in disbelief.
I laughed harder. "What did you say?" I asked, when I caught my breath.
"What'd you think? I said, 'What, you've been dreaming about me for five years but you don't remember what I look like?'"
"To which he replied…?"
"He said, "I remember that you're tall."
I laughed again. "Oh, that's special."
"Yeah. But it was fine, because it made me feel much less sorry for him when I told I never wanted to see him again."
"Boorishness does make it easier to be clear, doesn't it?"