A fresh podcast! Monk and I found a new sound guy - our old one left town - which is great, because neither of us want to deal with recording and then cooking these files.

I fear he may be too good at his job, though. I was wearing a crinkly down jacket while we recorded this (those studios are always freezing), and you can clearly hear me rustling as I shift in my chair during this podcast. Whoops.

Or maybe I was simply dressed inappropriately. A fashion faux-pas, how embarrassing!

But anyway: in this one, Monk and I read and answer a letter from a woman dealing with jealousy in a polyamorous relationship. Also, Monk makes reference to "going nuclear." We don't mean actual bombs, he's using an analogy explained in this column.

Bye!

So in the wake of yesterday's post someone - who shall remain nameless - sent me a teasing email about how, oh, did I need a power tool to deliver a serious fucking?

And the answer is no. I don't.



Click me, baby, and I'll get bigger. Much, much bigger. And I'll stay that way as long as I want. Someone is going to get reminded of that really soon.

A number of alert readers sent me links to some version of this story. Yowch!

I posted a little over a year ago about how I do indeed have a reciprocating saw with a dildo on it - a "Fuckzall," as they are called. (I think Monk has it, actually. I loaned it to him to use on some lucky girl, who did not wind up in the hospital.)



That poor woman! I'm glad she's recovering, but sweet Jesus, people: take the blade off! That's a good place to start, right there!

Then there's a special attachment you can buy to put the dildo on. I would not advise trying to DIY on this one, kids. Seriously.

Good lord. Some people should really just stick to deerskin mini-floggers.

Okay, so I have just dropped a ton of money on this remodel - more money than I have ever spent on any one thing in my entire life. More than the down payment on the damn house itself! Noooo, I'm not even mildly flipped out by that, why do you ask? It's not like investing in real estate is ever a bad idea, right? (Don't answer that.)

And even if I hadn't just done that, this simply does not seem like the time to go running up my credit card balance. I'm still as busy as I've ever been, but hey, I read the papers. (Even though today is the last day for my paper of choice, wah!) I have definitely made my contribution towards propping up the economy - some fiscal prudence seems the best idea right now.

But still. I am made of girlish flesh and blood, and this dress might be more than a mortal woman can live without.

Monk and I had a drink Saturday night with a pal of mine, a lovely woman who is a very successful courtesan. With her was a man whom she introduced as “her dearest friend”. (Parse that as you will, I don't assign labels to people that they don't use themselves.)

Regardless of his job title, he was charming, and I was pleased to see her with such an obviously affectionate companion. But her purpose in bringing him to meet us was not purely social. You see, this man wishes to be a male escort for women.

(We may need to coin a new term for this. Mescort? Mantesan? Those don’t please me, but something.)

Now, up until eighteen months ago I would have said that such a wish was futile. Women, I opined, simply did not hire sex workers the way men do. I have stated this view several times, in print.

Turns out I wasn’t entirely correct. You see, Monk has been doing a small but steady sideline business in professional dominance/escorting for female clients for about a year and a half now.

Note the keyword: sideline. TwistedMonk rope is the main event for Monk, professionally. If he relied upon sex work for his entire living, it would be a somewhat slender living. But still, he’s been far busier than I imagined possible. He says it’s due to my mentorship, which I think gives me far too much credit. But I have been pleased to offer him advice, suggestions and support.

Now I see that this friend of mine is doing the same for her constant companion, albeit from a less pro-domme-y, more courtesan-ish point of view. So they asked Monk a few questions, and we had an interesting conversation about it. In sum: in contrast to women, there is no established network for male sex workers for women to plug into. There is no acknowledged central place where potential clients gather, online or in real life, where a male sex worker can just show up and say “Hi, I’m available. Call me.” None that any of us know of, anyway, and between this other girl and I, we know a lot. Monk has had to invest a lot of time and do a lot of footwork to create his relationships with the women who see him professionally, and this man will have to do the same.

But as we drove home afterward, I amused myself speculating about exactly how - just hypothetically - one might create such a network for would-be female clients. The bare-bones arrangements of Craigslist, etc is sufficient for men. But women, I thought, would need something more personal.

“Well, they have escort review boards, don’t they?” said Monk.

“Yes, but still, I don’t think that’s right somehow.” I snapped my fingers. “Got it. You’d have to have a site written by just one woman who reviewed guys. Like a restaurant reviewer. That way, it’s personal. You develop a relationship with the writer, and thus you trust her and her take on the guys.”

“A male escort review blog? That could be cool, but I think you’d need at least two women reviewing. Like Siskel and Ebert. That way you get a more balanced opinion.”

I drummed my fingers on my chin. “Yeah, that’s a good point. Let’s see, who could do it well? They’d have to be a pair of smart, sexy women friends, and they’d have to be good writers, and they’d have to be comfortable thinking about sex and writing about sexual experiences.” We sat in silence for a moment, and then turned our heads towards each other and said simultaneously, “Hannah and Sparkles!”

Now, I don’t think for one instant that Hannah and Sparkles, whose names I am taking in vain so casually, are really going to do this. Not at all. I'm just kidding them by saying so. But Monk and I thought that if they did do it, they’d be great at it. And they know all the reasons why.

However, I think someone should do it. One male sex worker is an exception, but two is a trend. Women are different from men sexually (thank you, Mistress Obvious), and that means that the whole system will look and function differently from how male client/female sex worker systems function. But I am beginning to think that if a system existed, more clients would pop up to participate in it.

It would not take up a great deal of time in a woman’s life right now, because the field of potential male escorts is still rather small. But I have a hunch that’s going to change. And in a female-dominated industry, a guy who wants to be successful will need all the help and advice from women he can get.