Mistress Matisse,

I hope you'll give me some advice about a topic my partner and I have been discussing, namely consensual use of date-rape drugs for sex play. I'm sure we're not the first ones to think up such a thing, but I haven't had any luck asking Mistress Google. Do you know of a population who does this, or resources we could look at?

To give you a bit of personal background: I am a 23-year old woman and my partner is a 27-year old man. We are both in good health and have been in a monogamous relationship for five months. We are open-minded about kink, and are exploring different fantasies together as our comfort levels evolve. This "roofie fantasy" is something he mentioned, and I brought up the conversation again recently because I would like to learn more about what it would entail.

The "pros" of trying this experiment would be that my partner is very loving and protective, and I know I would be safe in his hands. He has used roofies on himself before, and knows what it's like. I fantasize about submission and we have fun experimenting with D/s roleplay. I enjoyed being on Vicodin after a surgery a year ago, and maybe roofies are a little like Vicodin? And it's not a foreign concept; sometimes I use alcohol (the most common date-rape drug of all!) and nicotine to "loosen myself up", because I like the wild, uninhibited sex we enjoy when I've had a couple strong drinks.

The "cons" of this experiment would be that, I would be sad to not remember or be able to enjoy the experience. Also, I haven't used many drugs and have D.A.R.E.-induced fear of them. I can't find any info on the web to allay my trepidation. It would help me to know that it's safe from a chemical standpoint, that I would have some recollection of the experience, what to expect, etc.

Have you any advice for us?

I read this letter through once and said to myself, “Sweet Jesus Christ, why does this woman think I’m an expert on using frickin’ date-rape drugs?"

Now, just in case it needs to be said: I don’t know anything about roofies. I've read some stories in the media, naturally. But I had to google the term to find out that the word roofies is a corruption of the brand name Rohypnol, and that the name of actual chemical is flunitrazepam. Wikipedia says its use as a recreational drug is widespread. Huh. I had no idea. It sounds like your boyfriend has considerably more knowledge of it than I do.

I read the email again and thought, “Okay, she’s not saying that, exactly.” But still, I had to wind myself down from being a bit offended. I mean, I’m not the Straight Edge type, by any means. But BDSM people, as a group, tend not to be frequent drug users. The official party line is very much “Drugs and BDSM do not mix.”

Why? Because doing BDSM requires a higher level of awareness than normal interaction. If something goes wrong, it needs to be handled promptly and appropriately. It’s the same rationale as not driving while high, or not being responsible for children. Drug use in scenes is generally frowned upon by BDSM people. I’m not saying it never happens, because I’m sure it does. But not openly.

Thus, I definitely do not have any resources for information about combining BDSM with drugs. I strongly doubt such a thing exists.

And frankly, even people who have played while high would probably tell you that you shouldn’t. It’s not like you two are long-term partners, with a lot of BDSM experience, who just want to take a bong hit before you do a little spanking and fucking. From what I have read, flunitrazepam is a strong drug. You two are newly in a relationship, and you don’t have much kink experience. I’m unclear on what exactly you want to do, physically. I suppose if you had some experience of a drug and knew how to minimize your risks and do your self-care around it, and you just wanted to add verbal roleplay to conventional sex, well - that might be more or less okay. (But that is all absent the inherent danger of taking that particular drug to begin with. I'm not a medical person, so I can't speak to that.)

However, doing any sort of bondage or intense sensation play while experimenting with a powerful new chemical? Whoa, that seems like a seriously, seriously bad idea. The number of ways for that to go wrong are legion.

I know there are websites that offer information about drug use in the name of harm-reduction. You should study them very, very closely. Not all fantasies can or should come true. If you’re not finding any information that allays your trepidation, then I think you should pay attention to that.

A few weekend notes...

It was a big birthday weekend around here. So, happy birthday wishes go out to my Frisbee-playing pal MC!

And it was also Puck's birthday. She gathered a few friends together for an intimate dinner, which was much enjoyed. Happy birthday to her, and many more...

***

I seem to have named to a list of Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2008, which is very nice. So thank you to whomever nominated me, and thanks to the blog "Between My Sheets" for creating the list! Be sure and check out the other cool sex bloggers listed along with me, they look great.

Things I am currently obsessed with:

1. The presidential election. I keep telling myself that I have one vote to cast, and I know who I'm voting for, and that checking the polls and the spin and the analysis every fifteen minutes actually isn't going to change things one bit. But I can't stop. 12-step group?

2. Fall fashion. I didn't think I liked the colors purple, or gray. I was wrong. So many pretty clothes!

3. Hurricane Hannah. My father lives on the coast of Georgia. As in: half a block from the Atlantic ocean. Also? He has a pilot's license and a risk-taking personality. (In case you where wondering where I sprang from...) Quote from a recent conversation: "Hell, I made it through two tours of Vietnam with people shooting at me, I can fly through anything." Jesus, Daddy, could you please evacuate by car if it comes to that, just so I don't have a heart attack?

So while I try to control the weather, politics, and my credit card balance, please enjoy the new Stranger column.

And hey - if I have met you, and you did, in fact, say one of the things I talk about in my column, that doesn't mean I think you're a terrible person and I could never like you, okay? I promise.

Politics: Huh. Apparently the two qualifications for being vice-president of the United States are a) boobs and b) a snarky turn of phrase and willingness to mock people. Nice to know I have another career option open to me. Since, you know, I myself possess both those traits.

As an aside: I bet Sarah Palin really pisses Dick Cheney off. I mean, the Republicans picking such a seriously under-qualified candidate - it kinda makes him look like a First Lady with a jockstrap, doesn't it?

Now, I'm certainly going to be talking some about politics until the election. Just so you know, I am actually not a hard-left kind of girl. I think of myself a political moderate, a centrist. I vote Democrat because the Republicans won’t stay out of my panties. Not that I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed that on some private occasions. But you know what I mean: the sex/reproductive rights issues.

However, the kind of Republicanism being displayed at the RNC makes me feel like Michael Moore. Only with boobs.

Pop Culture: I saw Tropic Thunder, and I know there’s some unhappiness about their use of the word “retard”, etc. However, I thought it was quite funny, and some of my best friends… Okay, not really. But as far as I know, the gay community is not upset by Jack Black’s passionate soliloquy about the blow-job he’d give to Brandon Jackson. (I know I may never recover from it.) If that speech didn’t send the gay boys shrieking out of the theater, well, surely everyone else can get a sense of humor, too.

Media: I have said in the past that a man looking to sell sex work services to women will starve to death. Well, I still don’t think you should quit your day job. But I think there’s a tiny bit more opportunity there than there used to be. I know someone personally - one might even say biblically - who’s doing all right. Here's a story from a UK paper on the subject – just fluff, really. But a small cultural indicator just the same.

Also from the Times: people who don’t think divorces should be easy to get should read this: professional seducers in Japan give unhappy spouses a way out. An interesting niche of sex work - and certainly one with room for the guys. But even if the “Family Values” party – ahem, excuse me, something seems to be sticking in my craw here, cough cough - gets elected, I can’t believe Mr. Second-Marriage McCain would take the country this way.

There’s also a lot of fuss in certain circles about this piece. Hipster Hookers, in Radar. I don’t know why, because I have read about a million jillion articles just like it. Hell, I know people who've written entire books on the topic. Elevator pitch: “Sweet young thing is titillated by sex work, but realizes at the last minute that she’s not that kind of girl”. Fresh and edgy, huh? NOT.

She may not be cut out to be an escort, however I think the author would make a great stripper, because this article is all tease and no delivery. Also, I can’t believe she gave the madame money. "Naïve and Gullible, party of one!"

Okay, I think I'm done demonstrating what a good Vice-President I'd be. Did I mention that I have boobs?

Reading List

I had recently gotten into the habit of reading almost all non-fiction. Especially when I don't have a lot of time to sit down and read - and I haven't - I find it's easier to pick up and put down. However, I think that it’s important to me, as a writer, to stay balanced, so I lately made a conscious decision to read more fiction. The smooth and accurate delivery of information is a crucial skill, and I think I’m pretty good at that. What I continue to work on, as a writer, is painting pictures with words, conveying a sense of place – sights, sounds, and impressions. That’s what I try to get from the fiction I read – how is the writer doing that?

I read Touchstone, by Laurie King, and I enjoyed it a lot. I like most of her work, especially the Mary Russel/Sherlock Holmes ones. Some of her contemporary suspense novels I’m not super crazy about, but even when they aren’t my favorite, I still think Ms. King has a knack for describing places, and she does the “show, don’t tell” thing superbly. Plus, I learned a lot about the period I hadn't known from this novel.

From the website: “Set shortly before Britain's disastrous General Strike of 1926, this stand-alone thriller from bestseller King (Keeping Watch) offers impeccable scholarship and the author's usual intelligent prose, but a surfeit of period detail and some weighty themes—the gulf between rich and poor, the insidious nature of both terrorism and the efforts to curb it—overpower the thin plot and stock characters. When Harris Stuyvesant, an investigator for the U.S. Justice Department, arrives in London to look for the mastermind behind a series of terrorist bombings on American soil, he tells Aldous Carstairs, a sinister government official, that his prime suspect is Labour Party leader Richard Bunsen. Carstairs suggests Stuyvesant should talk to Bennett Grey, whose brush with death during WWI has heightened his sense of perception to the point that he's a kind of human lie detector (he's the touchstone of the title), and to Lady Laura Hurleigh, Bunsen's lover and a passionate advocate of his brand of socialism. The threat of violence at a secret summit meeting held at the Hurleigh family's country house about preventing the strike provides some mild suspense.”

Well, I liked it. I hope Harris makes another appearance.

No one does lengthy description quite like the Victorians. I have plowed through my share of Dickens, of course. But there are other authors of the era whose work survives, and one of them is Mary Elizabeth Braddon, author of "Lady Audley’s Secret". Published in 1862, this was one of the best-selling “sensational” novels of it’s day. Now the plot - bigamy and attempted murder – is tame. And the prose is rather meandering. But there are some turns of phrase I liked, and the whole thing just has such an antique charm.

I do like historical novels, but I'll read anything this lady writes: Elizabeth Peters. Her plots are often absurd if you really think about them, but it's such fun that you don't care. This latest one is no exception. Like JK Rowling, she has a gift for creating characters you just want to hang around with, no matter what they're doing. (But they're always doing something.)

And then there was this one: Buckingham Palace Gardens, by Anne Perry. Now, I used to love Anne Perry, and I haven't given up on her. But she is trying to publish two novels a year lately, and wow, her work is really suffering. She has written some entertaining and well-researched Victorian mystery novels, but this one? Sucked. I hate to say that about another writer, but – ew. It’s all very flat, the whole thing feels rushed, and all she does is tell us how people feel. I hope she slows down a bit and gets back to her usual form.

I really hope Gustav lets Louisiana off more lightly than we fear. I grew up in Florida and I know the devastation a hurricane can bring. Those poor people, after Katrina and everything.

But I think this storm is a gift to the Republican National Convention, because now they can cancel speeches by Bush and Cheney, who have become political liabilities, under the guise of being respectful of those suffering from the storm. No one will be saying "heckuva job, Brownie!" at the RNC, no sirreebob. There's no way they can measure up to the sheer rock-star magic of Obama's DNC, so they are taking the opposite tack, paring it way down, and presenting themselves as mature, sober, God-fearing men of toil. Or the soil. Or something. But whatever the spin, McCain sure as hell doesn't want to have his picture taken standing next to Monkey Boy and The Dark Lord.

I admit I was tantalized by this weekend's internet-rumors about how Sarah Palin's fifth child wasn't really hers, but her teenage daughter's. (The idea being that Palin faked a pregnancy to cover up the embarrassment of having a pregnant and unwed child.) However, I'm not sure the story has legs. It's an interesting chain of odd choices and curious coincidences, but not something I'd hang my hat on. And even if that story were true, if she weren't looking to be VP, I would say it's no one's business anyway. However, the National Enquirer and it's ilk will undoubtedly do any vetting that McCain's camp may have overlooked.

Whatever happens this November, it will be historic. We do live in interesting times, don't we?

Weekend Shopping Blogging...

Okay, I want a new dress. Which is absurd, because I have a lot of dresses. But I do.

There's this one.



Or this, in the same style, different colors. Which do you think? I'm leaning towards the bone and black one. I usually like brighter, clearer colors, but I think the style of the dress is babba-boom enough, with the cut-out back - the neutral tones bring it down just a little...

There's this one, which I think I have to have no matter what, because it's a gorgeous color and it's very hard to find this shade of green. And I like the hip styling.



I also want a leather jacket. (Yes, I know I just got that black Moncler jacket, and I love it. But I want a leather one.) I was leaning towards this cute leather bomber from Mike and Chris. Sort of classic, and very Seattle, you know.


But - I'm also strangely drawn to this Helmut Lang number.


It looks like one of those things where when I put it on, it's either going to bring a touch of effortless elegance and cool to whatever I wear it with - or I'm going to look like I'm wearing a baggy leather sack. A very expensive baggy leather sack, I might add. Thank god Intermix is good about returns.

Like to hear me talk?, Listen to me on Dan Savage's podcast.

***

Non-sexy question: Seattle people, have any of ya'll dealt with these jewelers? I have some of my grandmother's jewelry that I'm thinking of having restyled. It's mostly semi-precious stones, and they're pretty, but the settings are old and not very attractive.

And some of it also needs basic repairs: there are pearls that have come unstrung, a ring that needs to be sized down, etc. If you have opinions about the Greenlake people, or any other Seattle jeweler, drop me a note.

An even more esoteric question: I also have a set of sterling silver flatware from grand-mama that needs some repair. Anyone have a silversmith here in town they like and trust? I'm finding a lot of places online that work by mail. But I'm actually quite sentimental about this silverware, it's been in my family forever. I am extremely reluctant to go shipping it off to who-knows-who. I'd like a "I went to these guys and they did a good job" story. Local recommendations?

Dear Mainstream Media,

Can we talk? Okay. You know I love you, but you have to get with it, image-wise. I have spoken to you before about this doomed love affair you’re having with the cats-eye mask…




I see that you can't seem to help yourself. But just stop. Using an image of someone in a mask like this to portray a kinky person is like showing a photo of this guy to portray the modern hippie movement.

I hate that collar, too - the model looks as if he's been styled by a pit bull breeder. And the red bowling shirt. And that dreadfully Billy Idol-ish faux-sneer.

Lord knows there are plenty of photos of bonafide, sexy-looking BDSM people around, can’t you use one of them?

With weary patience,

Mistress Matisse

P.S. It is nice that you’re running stories about how kinky people are not only not a bunch of emotionally damaged abuse victims - we may even be happier than non-kinky people. Thank you for that part. Now get with this decade, stock-photo-wise.

Professional Advice

Dear Mistress Matisse

I am going to two Mistress apprenticeship interviews, and can you imagine what kind of confidence boosting help I got when I Google'd “job interview” and dominatrix? Not much.

I thought I'd email some of the Dominatrixes whose blogs I've read, to ask if anyone had any dungeon job interview tips. The madams and Mistresses I spoke to on the phone sounded very welcoming, but I do wonder if they'll judge me to be too much work based on my posture or lack of experience/confidence. That said, I am actually confident about my suitability and don't expect to be deterred from my intention to become a professional Mistress.

Your posture? Well, stand up nice and straight, dearie.

Okay, seriously... I get asked for help getting jobs in pro-domme houses a lot, but in fact, I’ve never worked in one, nor have I ever taken any apprentices of my own. (And I don’t plan to.) Thus I can’t speak to precisely what they might ask. (Some general advice on becoming a pro domme is here.)

I have worked in other group sex work situations, though. I also managed a massage parlor for a while, and I did the hiring for that. And I’ll tell you the first thing I was looking for was women who were calm, rational, emotionally well-balanced people, because there are a lot of crazy girls in the sex industry. A lot.

I also wanted reliable women who would show up on time, every time. Women who could be pleasant to co-workers and follow my directions about the procedures of the house. Women who would not steal from each other or the clients or the house.

Finding women like that was not as easy as you'd think. So I was willing to teach people all the skills of the business if they’d just be smart, sane, and responsible. It’s my understanding that it’s hard to get taken on by pro-domme houses because the competition to get those jobs is intense. But if they’re willing to interview you, that usually means they need someone. (Sex work business do not collect resumes for the fun of it.) If you have a look they like, and you display the good people skills I’ve mentioned, that combined that fact that you’re really committed to the idea of being a dominatrix should make you an ideal candidate for the job. Good luck.

It's always amusing when mainstream media reports something that everyone is already aware of as if it's big news. Today, CNN announced that people often exchange sex for things or for services. Wow, what a stunning revelation. Men and women both. For thousands of years! Who knew?

Um, like everyone past puberty? And a lot of people before it, too, I imagine. I know I had it figured out when I was a kid. I don't know how sophisticated I would have been about articulating it, but I definitely had an instinctive grasp on the concept. When I was in sixth grade, Scotty Sanders wanted to kiss me. I told him he had to give me his Hostess cupcake - my mom was a health food type and never let us have stuff like that. So he did, and we went down behind the school cafeteria - which was the unofficial "kissing zone" at my Catholic grammer school - and I kissed him. Did I want to kiss him anyway? Oh, yeah, definitely. But I also wanted the cupcake, and I knew that I could have both, so why not?

That, by the way, was my first kiss.

The new column in the new Stranger....

Note to my Dear Readers: yes, I'm aware that there was recently a snarky letter to the editor about me in The Stranger. It would be nice if everyone thought I was wonderful all the time, but unfortunately, that's not how things work. And I learned long ago that if you're going to live your life in the public eye (even in a small way), then you better develop a thick skin.

Everyone is entitled to an opinion. If you'd like to offer yours - about my column, or anything else - to The Stranger, I'm sure they'd be pleased to hear from you: Editor@thestranger.com

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

More Notes From Las Vegas

The Cher show? Was great. In addition to the (more or less) live songs, she included a lot of video clips from the old Sonny & Cher variety show, and it was a delightful reminder of the fact that Cher's been doing this gig since I was just a tot. Which I still am, compared to Cher. And damn, I hope I look as good as she does when I'm in my sixties. (I don't care that she's had surgery. If you look good, it doesn't matter to me how you brought that about, I'm on board with it.)

Afterward Elvis and I went dancing at this club in Caesar's, called Cleopatra's Barge, and one of the songs they played was - oh my god - Abba. Seriously. Dancing Queen, to be specific. The DJ had this seventies-riffic theme he was on, and he was into it.

So we were laughing and dancing to Abba, and suddenly I had a almost painfully vivid memory of my sophomore year of high school. You see, I was in the jazz chorus, and we sang Dancing Queen. Really. I'm not kidding. Six little Catholic high school girls, warbling "You're a tease and you turn him on - leave him burning, and then you're goooooooooone". Sounds more like someone being given a case of the clap than a romance, but hey, maybe it's a Swedish thing.

As I danced, I remembered - with a slight inward wince - performing that song. Badly, I'm sure. In those tacky little outfits that we wore. That our mothers had to make for us. Lordy.

Then the visceral intensity of the memory passed, and I was back in Vegas, in the now. Wearing my favorite white Herve Leger dress, stiletto heels, and all my bling, drinking champagne, and getting into mischief. Quite a difference, to put it mildly. If you had said to that fifteen-year-old girl, "Hey, when you're a grown-up, here's what your life will look like..." Well, I have no idea how that girl would have reacted. With disbelief, probably.

It's so strange how we get from one place to another in our lives. But I love my life. Yeah, I really do.

Well, here I am in Vegas. I haven't been here since my ill-fated wedding here in 1999. I've actually only been here once before that, so I am not a Vegas expert. Thus, I gawked like a rube as we drove down the Strip.

I had forgotten how surreal casinos are, how Disney-esque. It's easy to just step out of your life into this non-real world. (Which is exactly what they want you to do, of course.)

Musing on that, I thought to myself, I wish I could afford a kink equivalent of this. An dungeon space that's just so encompassing, so perfect, and so other-world-ish that you'd forget there was anything else. I've seen a few spaces like that. There used to be a place down in Atlanta run by two gay men. The Sanctuary, I think it was called? That place was amazing. And I don't even though how much money, and work, it must have cost to create. A lot, that's all. It's gone now.

But then I thought about it some more, and actually I changed my mind. Naturally I like having a pretty place to play with people, nice dungeon furniture, et cetera. But I like it better that the power I have to make the world go away for a little while is in me. Not my toys, my furniture, my decor, or anything material thing. But in my eyes, my voice, and my touch.

That way, I can go wherever I like, and make a little magic happen for whomever I'm with.

Wow, it's hot.

But as fate would have it, I'm about to go someplace even hotter. No, I don't mean Hell. (Although if that place actually existed, I have no doubt that once I arrived there, I'd be given a corner office. After all, to quote Motley Crue, "The Devil is a friend of mine...")

No, I'm going to Las Vegas for a few days, with a man who I think I will dub - Elvis. I haven't been on a trip with Elvis before, so this will be an adventure for us both. I think it's going to be big fun. We're staying at Caesar's Palace, in one of the new towers, and we have tickets to what looks like a completely fabulous show, and I imagine there will be much wining and dining and gambling.

I'm also looking forward to checking out one of the "European-style" pools at Caesar's. (Meaning: women can go topless!) I don't care if it's 105 degrees, as long as I have a drink with an umbrella in it and the cabana boy comes by and mists me every little while, I'll be very happy. I'll take pictures and post them to the Flickr stream.

I'm off early Monday and I'm back late on Wednesday, so getting me on the phone those days will be tricky. I will be checking email, of course, and I'll try to respond to messages as quickly as I can.

So if you hear about an Elvis sighting in Sin City in the next few days, think of me.

From the "silly emails" department...

I wanted to say hello to You and say I was impressed with Your site.1 it was also nice not to see the typical "I will dominate you for $xx.xx".2 I think Your site seems genuinely interested in the wants and needs of submissives, which brings me to my question. Who is really in charge if a session is set up for all the wants and needs of the submissive?3 What i want to know, is what do YOU truely enjoy?4. When You have a submissive alone and its for enjoyment and not really for a "session".5

1. I think the indicating-dominance-by-capitalizing thing is silly and affected, but I understand that people like doing it, and so I usually don’t say anything. However, if you’re going to write to me and capitalize Me and Mine and so on, you need to also lowercase your I. That’s how that convention works, you see.

2. Uh, what’s with the decimal point? Have you really ever seen a website where a sex worker listed a fee in dollars and cents? I mean, what would that look like? One hour: $249.99 I bet not.

3. This marking the seventeen thousandth, four hundred and thirty-first time I’ve heard the “submissives are really the ones in control” theory. Here are a couple of the responses I’ve made to it before, if you search back through the archives I’m sure you can find more. Nutshell version: yes, BDSM requires the consent of both parties. But if you think “consenting to a scene” equals “being totally in control of everything that happens”, you are obviously playing with the wrong people.

4. Oh, now we’re lapsing into the lowercase i. Or maybe it’s just a typo, which is what that always looks like to me anyway. And then the all-caps emphasis, and then one of my least-favorite misspellings.

5. And now we’re culminating in a flat demand that I write him a dirty email and reveal to him what he seems to think is personal information. Gee, what a truly submissive guy he must be.

It’s impressive how many annoying things this writer was able to pack into one short email. That takes skill. What you don’t know is that this guy has re-sent this email to me at least three times in the last few weeks. Maybe more, I’ve lost track. I guess he was getting impatient with me because I wasn’t giving him the information he wanted promptly enough. Snap to it, Mistress, inquiring minds want to know! So, here’s my answer…

The “no, tell me what you really like” thing is thing is irksome, first of all because it presumes I’m lying and must be cross-examined. Bah. In my dungeon, I don’t have to do a damn thing I don’t want to do. Thus, if I say I enjoy doing certain types of scenes, it’s because I do actually enjoy them. And if my word isn't good enough for you, then don't play with me.

But that isn’t going to satisfy a guy like this. I know this type. Back when I was a dancer, there would be guys who’d pester you to tell them your real name. Even after you said no, they’d still wheedle and beg and bribe you about it endlessly.

“Why do you want to know?” I’d say.

“I just want to,” they'd answer.

The trick was to hold out for a while, and then sigh heavily and say, “Okay, fine. It’s Heather. Now you know.”

Most of them would be very happy then, because they felt special. Sometimes the smarter ones would say indignantly, “Hey, that’s not your real name either, is it? You just made that up.”

However, I am not inclined to make up a pretty story for this man’s entertainment. (Although it’s always tempting to write back and say, “What I really get off on is castration scenes. Wanna play?”)

Do the math, my misspelled friend – if I was concealing things I thought were secret, why the heck would I spill them, just like that, to some random yabbo who sends me an anonymous email?

Some random sexual thoughts…

Suggestion for strap-on wielding ladies: if you haven’t got some already, buy yourself a pair of snugly fitting boy-shorts style panties. Get some that are a fairly thick knit, nothing too wispy. Put the strap-on harness over the panties. Then take a vibrator and shove it snugly into the front of the panties over the right spot. Now fuck. The panties will hold it in place better than just the harness, and pressure and movement of the dildo and harness over the vibrator is very nice, I find….

***

Someone told me lately about how his balls got all chafed during a sporting activity, and now I can’t stop thinking about scrotums and abrasion play. And ever since I saw this story, I also keep thinking about these fish. What if you got a whole lot of them? And they were really hungry? And what if you put sensitive bits of someone's flesh into a bowl full of them and told that someone they were, say, piranhas? (I know they don't look like piranhas, but they could be a special, rare variety. Say, Norwegian piranhas! Hey, you don't know for sure those don't exist. The thing about Norwegian piranhas is that they always circle a few minutes before they attack, like sharks. So you'd just have to wait and see, wouldn't you?)

Oh, this sort of thing makes me mad. Way to go, Christian educators. Granted, you don't have to like or employ the author of the sex blog, but could you not visit the "sins" of the mother upon her child? Especially when you already agreed not to? The "Catalina Loves" controversy.

From The Mail Bag

I'm a Seattle-based indie pornographer, and I'm looking to buy a condo in the near future. I'm looking to get a studio on the low end of the pricing scale, and almost all studios in cute older buildings are co-ops. The idea of going before a co-op board and explaining myself is quite terrifying to me. I'm wondering if you have any feel as to how sex worker friendly the co-op boards in Capital Hill might be?

Secondly, do you have a recommendation for a sex worker friendly accountant/ tax preparer?

Well, all right, this is definitely not one of those questions that one could just Google. Talk about highly specific. This is a micro-targeted question.

But I’m sorry, I have no information about how sex-work friendly a co-op board would generally be, let alone any specific information about any particular one in Seattle. Frankly, I’m only vaguely conversant with how co-ops are run. (Except for that fact that I’m told they are not a great real-estate investment.)

However, you’re quite right to be concerned about the idea of telling a bunch of strangers, who hold your fate in their hands, that you’re a part of the sex industry. I predict that won’t go well. Odds are, at least some of them are going to disapprove on moral grounds. Some of them probably wouldn’t care in the abstract, but will fear that you’ll be doing noisy/obtrusive porno things in your space that will bother them or be inappropriate for children to be aware of. And some of them will suspect – with some justification – that an indie pornographer’s income is likely to be unstable. So I strongly suggest you don’t tell them.

You see, part of being a successful sexual outlaw is avoiding the gaze of the straight world. (By straight I mean non-outlaw, not necessarily heterosexual.) If you don’t have a good cover story for how you make your money constructed, you better sit down and put one together. Others may advocate being out to everyone, all the time. But my observation is that that’s a luxury one can’t always afford.

And speaking of afford, I further think that if you can’t afford a space where you don’t require your neighbor’s approval of your profession, then you should keep saving money until you do. But that’s your decision.

About a tax-prep person? Another perfectly reasonable question that I don't have an answer to. I have a great guy who handles me very nicely. But I’m not able to give out his name freely, sorry.

I wish I did have more professional recommendations to give out, people ask me all the time. So if you’re a Seattle area professional person and you’re happy to do work for sex work/queer/kink/poly people, drop me a note and tell me what you do. I’ll keep you in my files and send you any business I can…

Most often asked for are tax, accounting and all types of financial stuff, lawyers, real estate people, contractors and all types of home improvement professionals.

I also get asked for referrals for therapists ALL the time, and while I know some cool people, I don’t know anyone who specializes in dealing with the sexual minority community.

I might suggest, though, that you get a copy of the GSBA. Yes, it’s targeted mainly at the Gay community, and certainly not all homosexual people are porn-friendly. However, I think your odds of getting someone cool through this type of guide are better than just random chance, so…. Good luck.

Edit: There is this lady. However, I do not know her personally, and I do not know anyone who's worked with her, so all I'm doing is pointing out the link... The Tax Domme

Today is Monk's birthday.

There are a lot of amazingly cool things about Monk, as I have noted in previous birthday posts. But the best thing about him is that he just keeps on getting more amazing all the time. We've been partners for a little over four years now - which is sort of amazing in and of itself. He was wonderful when I met him. However, he soon surpassed mere wonderfulness and moved on to being fabulous, and thence to sensational, and then onto - dare I say it? - awesometastic.

How long can this sort of thing go on? Surely, you're thinking, there must be some limit. Nope. Not with Monk. His ability to achieve new heights of amazingly-coolness has no boundaries. I am quite certain that this coming year will prove to be yet another demonstration of that fact.

So Happy Birthday, darling. I look forward to another year of seeing you achieve dizzying new heights of amazingness.

I don't really believe in astrology - but I like Rob Brezsny.

Scorpio Horoscope for week of August 7, 2008
The guy who gave his name to North and South America was a pickle salesman and writer as well as an explorer. After a stint in Spain selling his vitamin C-rich pickles to outbound ships, Amerigo Vespucci got to travel to the New World in 1499 and 1502. The stories he penned about his adventures there were highly imaginative, like his description of giant native women with huge breasts who employed poisonous fluids extracted from insects to super-size their husbands' penises. I nominate Amerigo to be your role model in the coming weeks, Scorpio. May you, too, do what comes natural and be your funky self in ways that lead to glory and renown. (My source for the info about Amerigo is Tony Horwitz's book A Voyage Long and Strange: Rediscovering the New World.)

A good reminder, Rob, thanks. I've been rather distracted, for the last few weeks, with various things that have not felt either funky or glorious. But I think that's just about done with, and I'm looking forward to acting more like a creature of someone's imagination again.

Next week: photos, several rounds of letter-answering, and some remarks on cougars. Have a lovely weekend...

The new Stranger column, about the difference between "no-strings fucking" and "a romance."

And today, after forty-eight hours of non-stop Good Daughter duty, I am back in my playroom being my naturally kinky self. Thank god.

A new podcast, in which Monk and I rant a lot - because we can - about BDSM culture, "getting into the scene", and being a BDSM vendor. A bit longer than usual: 17 minutes. And not safe for work. Enjoy!

Wow, did I get a lot of advice and helpful suggestions about my refrigerator! Ya’ll are better than “This Old House.” So thank you, nice people, for all your words of wisdom.

Several clever readers noted that they Googled for answers to this domestic puzzle. Perhaps they were insinuating something. Yes, I know I lecture you about intellectual laziness and tell all of you to ask Mistress Google something before you ask me. But hey, those rules don’t apply to me, I’m a special snowflake, right?

Mixed in with the suggestions were several emails that read, “Yeah, mine is doing that too, would you post the other emails so I can see them?” So without further ado, Mistress Matisse’s Supah-Sexy Refrigerator Repair Tips! I myself will be trying all of these out as soon as possible.

***

I’m sitting at my desk preparing for a class I’m teaching at the Emerald City Writer's Conference in October. I was very pleased to be asked to present at this con, and I’m excited by the prospect of talking about kink, polyamory and sex work to people outside of what I sometimes call “the love bubble.” I think that will be very interesting. It’s not like teaching a how-to BDSM 101 sort of class, which I always find a little frustrating. It’s more about teaching people what kinky/poly/sex work people are like, which I think I’ll enjoy much more.

I’m also pleased that this is specifically a romance writer’s conference. I think romance writers are a bit like the sex workers of the writing world – a lot of people like to turn up their noses at them because they write about ew, dirty things. And because the books are just all fluffy insubstantial crap. But the romance genre accounts for a very large chunk of the popular-fiction market - so regardless of the sneers, a lot of people are voting with their dollars.

And while I have certainly read romance novels I thought were terrible, I’ve also read plenty of them that amused and entertained me. I think genre fiction novels are a bit like sonnets, in a way. You have this clearly defined structure and rhyme scheme, but within that form there’s flexibility and plenty of room, I find, for originality.

I want this class to be good - so I should go work on it now. Bye!

Notes about my schedule. It seem like it’s been a long time that I’ve been writing about how I’m extra-busy because my Mom is here. But this is the last week of that. Starting the 11^th, I’ll be back to my normal level of insane-busyness.

Also: I will be unavailable August 18^th, 19^th and 20^th – I’m going down to Las Vegas for a few days. That should be fun, I haven't been to Vegas in forever.

***

Now, for an unsexy question. I give a lot of advice here, now I need some myself. It’s about my refrigerator. The problem is that it’s peeing on my floor and I don’t know why.

It’s a very basic standard fridge. There is not an ice-maker in the refrigerator compartment or the freezer compartment, there is no water-dispenser on the door, none of that stuff. It is not connected to a water source of any kind. It is a plain white box that plugs into the wall and gets cold. That’s it.

Yet for some reason, puddles of water are forming inside it and trickling out when one opens the door. I’m talking a couple of ounces here, enough to make a large puddle on the kitchen floor. And rings of water are forming around everything in the fridge, on every shelf. It’s a mess, and very annoying.

I cannot figure out why this is happening. It’s set to the average level of coldness. I tried setting it colder, but that does not prevent the water from happening, the water just freezes. (And so do all the other liquids in the refrigerator, which is not ideal.)

The appliance is not showing any other obvious signs of distress. It’s not new, it came with the house when I bought it a little over two years ago, and I believe we determined that it was about seven years old. But that’s not ancient.

I could call a repairman. And if I had some idea that this was a fifty-dollar fix, I’d do that. But my experience of repairing large appliances is that somehow, it always winds up being more like a two-hundred-dollar fix. My philosophy is that if the cost of repairing an item is 50% or more of the price of a brand-new one, then to hell with it, I’ll just buy a brand-new one. A new refrigerator just like this one is about four hundred dollars. Thus, my dilemma.

So – anyone have any “yeah, that happened with mine and it turned out to be X” stories for me? Send them along - my email address is over on the right, there. Quick, before I kill myself slipping in these puddles of water.

I'm busy catching up with my life today, but this funny video clip about how birth control is marketed to women cracked me up, so - enjoy. (Thanks to Heresygirl for turning me on to it. 3 minutes, has sound, maybe-sorta work-safe?)

I am really pleased to see this…

“In a ruling with potentially wide implications for press freedom in Britain, a judge ruled Thursday that a tabloid newspaper breached the privacy of Max Mosley, the overseer of grand prix motor racing, when it published an article in March claiming that he had participated in a sadomasochistic “orgy” with a Nazi theme.”

The judge also said “…Mr. Mosley had a “reasonable expectation” of privacy for sexual activities that took place on private premises and that did not involve violations of the criminal law.”

I have commented before on Mr. Mosley's sex life. And this is happening in the UK, so of course it won’t have any legal effect here in the US.

But I like that phrase, “a reasonable expectation of privacy.” I think we should all consider that. Gossip about famous people is big business, and tabloid fare is comfortably distant from our own lives. But where does that mentality stop? What about our friends and lovers? What is their reasonable expectation of privacy? Because there is such a thing as harmless gossip – but there’s also information that one simply should not disclose about other people. But sometimes it happens anyway.

I’m not saying I’ve never gossiped about anyone. Of course I have, I’m human. But I’ve seen how it hurts people - and I’ve been hurt by it myself. It may be that one has to be on the wrong end of it before one really understands the power of hurtful gossip, and the responsibility to not engage in it.

So now, before I talk about Person A to Person B, I ask myself some questions, like: Did I experience this myself, or am I just repeating what someone else told me? Do I absolutely know this to be true, or is it even partly hearsay/supposition on my part? If the person I’m talking about was in front of me, would I be willing to say this to their face?

And the other thing about malicious gossip? It’s like negative political campaigning – it reflects badly on the speaker. My grandmother used to say, “No one looks pretty saying ugly things.” It’s one thing to be a little snarky, but if you really start slinging mud, some of that mud will stick to you. If I hear somebody talking trash and spreading rumors about someone else, I assume that given the opportunity, they’d do the same to me.

So you have to think before you open your mouth, because once you speak, the words take on a life of their own. It’s nice for Mosley that the court found in his favor, but that doesn’t remove the violation of his privacy from everyone’s mind. It’s easy to see a tabloid paper’s motivations for printing embarrassing gossip – it sells papers, and that’s all they care about. It isn’t so clear for individuals. Like so many other things in life, you have to continually examine yourself. What is my motivation for this? And is it a motive I’m proud of? Think about it before you speak.

I'm away from home today, so forgive me if I'm a bit slow answering phone calls and emails. It's a busy thing, being a Mistress. But there's a philosophy I find succinctly expressed on this pair of panties...


So while I am engaged in my Mistress-y activities, enjoy a podcast from Monk and I. This one... well, truthfully, it's a bit less topic-oriented and more just a conversation between Monk and I about our tech toys and how we use them.
Bye!

I like this idea. But what's this "be gentle" nonsense?

A link to the new column, about how poly people don’t get toaster-ovens.

I drank a fair amount of very nice wine last night. I went to dinner at Armani’s house, which was just lovely, and he showed all us guests his wine cellar, and we cracked some seals. Now, I like wine - champagne, especially. But I don't really think much about it, or talk the whole wine-talk thing while I'm drinking it. I pretty much just knock it back and say, Mmmm, that was yummy, and then pour myself another glass...

Probing Poly Questions

I got this email today. Now, in the past I have only published letters from people who wrote to me knowing I was Mistress Matisse, and knowing that I sometimes conduct public spankings of the unwary. But I just couldn’t pass this up. I doubt very much that the sender will ever see it, but that's no reason I shouldn't entertain you with it.

Backstory: Because I have interests and hobbies other than kink, I do have profiles and carry on conversations on various social-networking-type websites. Not kinky ones, very PG-13 sorts of places. In those settings, I definitely do not identify myself as Matisse, and I don’t usually say much about BDSM at all. However, I do usually mention that I’m polyamorous and I have two partners. I’ve had some good conversations with people about it, and offered the sincerely interested folks various resources – books, websites, or this cute little video Minx put together.

Sometimes, though, I get messages from people who have a whole other agenda. Witness this note from a total stranger.

I am writing to ask you something that your profile begs me to ask.1 (I am a curious people person who has nack2 at seeing what the words say even when they don't say it.)3

Why are you so afraid of being alone with yourself?4

Now I really don't expect an answer but if you feel like answering it would help me understand someone in my life who is very much like you 5 and has the same problem.6 She also won't answer the question…7

There’s a certain variety of guy who likes to abruptly engage with women he doesn’t know and throw down a challenge to them, designed to clearly display his stunning insight into the deepest corners of their psyche. “Why, this man has seen past my cleverly-constructed facade,” we will think. “No one has ever truly done so before. He must be someone very special. Nay, he must, in fact, be The Man I Have Been Waiting For.” And then the music swells, and we throw ourselves into his arms.

Yeah, only – not. Not ever, not a chance, not in this lifetime or any other. Just not. Let me break this down for you, Dr. Phil.

1. No, my profile doesn’t beg you for anything. But if it did, it would be begging you to click on the X in the little square at the top right of the page. That’s what it would beg for.

2. I see that you don’t have a “nack” for spelling. Or a knack. Or Spell-check, apparently.

3. I am horrified by this reiterated notion of you reading things in my profile that I didn't actually write. Let me just be very clear here: it does NOT say, “Please come stalk me, murder me, and consume my liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti, so that we can truly be one forever.” That’s not the kind of “people person” I am.

4. Okay, now I am making some logical leaps here. Why should he get to be the only one who reads words that aren't there? I’m assuming that to this guy, saying “I’m polyamorous” means “I’m filling my life with random sex with lots of strange men that I care nothing about, in order to dull some inner anguish and patch over a deep, deep emptiness in my soul.”

   I can understand why he thinks that, given his talent for creative re-interpretation. ( I wonder if he sees pictures that aren’t there, too? ) What I don’t understand is why he seems to be objecting to this, given that he is a man cruising strange women’s profiles on social sites. One would think such men would be supportive of that kind of behavior. I looked at the photo on this man’s profile, and believe me, he is definitely someone who should encourage low sexual standards in women.

   Given that he's objecting, I’m puzzled, too, as to why he used the phrase “being alone with yourself?” The usual line in this kind of come-on is “Why are you afraid of trooooo intimacy?” True intimacy being defined as monogamy, probably with them. So he gets points deduced for that little slip.

5. I really doubt you have anyone in your life who is very much like me. Unless she just hasn’t gotten the restraining order yet.

6. Problem? The only problem I have I silly people saying silly things to me, and actually, that’s not a problem at all. I just convert them into cannon fodder.

7. Nope, I’m not answering you, either. Just consider your point made, my friend, and leave me all alone with myself. Please.

Kink In The Media: As usual, while the mainstream media (and the psychology community) is far from totally enlightened and accepting of my life, they have no objection whatsoever to using our imagery to sell magazines. Thank you ever so, Psychology Today.

The piece isn’t even all about kink. It’s sort of a round-up of some “taboos”- including kink- and a discussion of how they are viewed in our culture. Lack of ambition is one of them, but a magazine with a picture of a guy sprawled on a couch probably wouldn’t fly off the rack the way this one will.

Reality check: I cannot recall the last time I saw someone wearing a little Zorro mask like that at a kink event. It might be, oh, never. If I did, I would probably snicker, frankly.

And you sure as hell wouldn't be throwing that single-tail anywhere near me with your field of vision so intruded upon.

What do I think of PT's most recent flirtation with BDSM? Eh, not bad. Nothing new or terribly insightful, simply the usual liberal-ish stuff about how BDSM is sort of okay - unless you Take It Too Far. I happen to agree with that statement in a general sense, but I’m sure my version of Too Far looks way, way different from Psychology Today’s. I mean, I’m just guessing about that, but – yeah. I’d bet money.

I liked this bit, though.

“Normal people may be nicer than average, but they also have character traits that aren't universally appealing. They're not adventurous. They're not above average in intelligence, nor are they outgoing. Truth be told, a lot of our best qualities are unusual…. Besides, they're what make us endlessly fascinating—and essentially human.”

As anyone who’s ever caught me in an irritable moment can attest, I am not uniformly nicer than average. But I’d rather be fascinating than normal, and I think most people I know, in my not-normal world, would agree.

Someone was remarking to me lately how I should write a book. Which is very flattering, but not in the cards right now. I've talked about my reasoning on that subject before. And really, I just don't see how I'd ever have time.
Sometimes it sort of stuns me, though, when I look back and see that I've been blogging for over four years now. There's a lot of stuff here! Some of it's just random bits of trivia, but some of it bears re-linking. Thereupon, without further ado, The Best Of (The Last Couple Months Of) Mistress Matisse's Blog.

Nazi Play
S/he's A Lady
The Bank Job
Bad Approach
The Bra-Fitter
D/s And Relationships
Must One Bottom Before Topping?
My Wedding Photos
Getting Your Partner Into Kink
And, my favorite: What Not To Say - The "Puffy" Man.

And from the dusty vaults: Older Greatest Hits

It's Friday, and Round One of the Mom visit is drawing to a close. Whew.

Meanwhile, here's another podcast. This one is less silly and possibly a bit more controversial than usual. Monk and I read a letter and discuss the idea of using BDSM as a tool in chronic pain management. Hope you find it thought-provoking.

Advanced BDSM: Branding

Dear MM,

(Edited: nice compliments.) So ... I started seeing this girl awhile ago. She works at a bakery and continually gets these small (quarter sized) burns from mishandling equipment at work. Anyway, we're both fairly into BDSM and after playing a lot together, I asked her if the burns were, well, purposefully inflicted -- she said they were.

Anyway, my question is this: is there anything you know of that can cause localized intense sensation in the general ballbark of having a third-degree burn, without, you know, the medical drawbacks of having third-degree burns?

I have to admit, the burns are small and she's treated everything properly and hasn't had any infections/serious complications so far, but I worry.

This is sort of sweet to me. I think is how a good top/lover should be: wanting to give their partner what they like, but wanting them to be safe, too.

That said, burning/branding is advanced BDSM, and if you do it wrong, the consequences are going to be severe. That doesn't mean you shouldn't do it. I've done it, and I've had it done to me. (My opinion on having it done to me: Ow! But I like doing it, go figure.)

But understand: what you're about to read is NOT a branding lesson. It’s my opinion that you cannot learn branding just by reading about it. You need to be carefully taught, in person, by someone who's done it and has a clear understanding of how it works. Reading this blog post does NOT mean you’re now all qualified to burn/brand someone.

However, I did send this email to my pervy-medical-advice friends for their take, and here’s what they said…

(Based on some edited-out information, I have reason to believe that the writer of this letter is a detail-oriented, geeky type of guy. So while I’d normally edit this down and just give you the quick and dirty, this time I elected to let the medical guys have their full say. Get comfortable.)

Dr Moreau: The questioner's phrasing raises some questions. If we're talking about things that are not burns but which cause a burning sensation, there's been plenty written about chemicals like Tiger Balm, and other things that sting. But it sounds like he's asking about something that actually is a burn of some kind.

There's sunburn, from the usual source or artificial ones, which can be localized -- e.g., by cutouts in clothing. This is typically first degree, though of course second-degree sunburns (i.e., with blistering) are not rare. There's a known association with elevated risk of skin cancer, as everyone probably knows by now. If the interest is in deeper burns, there's branding and the like, in which I have fairly minimal personal experience. I am not conversant enough in branding technique to identify the usual intent, but I imagine that it would be a second-degree or borderline third-degree burn, extremely localized.

The problem is in controlling the amount of thermal energy delivered to the tissue, the main factors of which would probably be the temperature of the appliance, the rate of heat transfer, and the duration and depth of application. I know of some cases in which much more extensive scarring ensued than was expected. I think experience is key here -- the risk is significant, and I think if one undertakes this, one should proceed very slowly and incrementally.

The burns he describes sound like first-degree or very mild second-degree, nowhere near "the general ballpark of having a third-degree burn." A third-degree burn involves destruction of deeper tissues, and may not have any sensation at all, if the nerves are burned, though the less-burned surrounding area may be terribly painful. And the months or years of recovery and potential infections are unlikely to seem very erotic.

I cannot readily imagine third-degree burns of any extent beyond smallish brands and the like being the intent of a scene, unless truly informed consent is absent (i.e., all parties are woefully ignorant of what they're getting themselves into), or, by another metric, unless safety/sanity is right out the window...due to the control problem mentioned above. And I tend to be pretty damn broad about my interpretation of consent and safety.


Dr Strangelove: I've never used electrocautery tools before, they're more of a surgeon thing. But there are also things called LEEPs (loop electrode surgery procedures) that use an electrically charged wire to cut through tissue but I think they're actually supposed to be low pain compared to scalpels. A soldering iron would probably be a good reusable, easily heatable item, but those get damn hot so good control would be very important to avoid going too deep. You can even get replacement tips for the soldering irons so you could use a new tip thus lowering your cross contamination risk...not that I'd be too worried about bacteria or viruses since...

Thankfully most anything that you use to burn someone is going to be pretty clean by virtue of it being very hot. But I would still recommend a good quality stainless steel if you are heating a separate implement in a heat source and then burning with the implement. A disposable scalpel heated and then applied to the skin would be a good option, I think (apply the broad side or the blunt edge). Also make sure the person is up to date on their tetanus booster.

Avoid applying creams or gels or oil based products to burns, a good sterile dressing loosely applied to the area is generally sufficient. Do not remove any blisters that may form from the initial burn. Fluid within the blister is generally sterile and opening the blister only increases the possibility of infection. Do not burn the full circumference of any limb (i.e. all the way around a leg, arm, finger, penis, etc) and be careful of burns to the neck since swelling caused by a fluid shift in this region could cause breathing problems. Similarly burns to the hands, feet and face are considered 'high risk' burns. 2-3 inches in diameter is considered a serious burn and we would recommend having that looked at by a professional. If a burned area begins to swell around the full circumference of the region (be it around a limb, around the chest, etc) see a medical professional. Likewise, if swelling appears to be increasing and sensation is being
altered nearby (i.e. your arm is swelling and your fingers feel funny) see a medical professional.

Quick breakdown of assessing if you've burned too much:
1st degree: Pain, redness, some swelling --> OK. Run under cold water (or don't...) and let it heal. Do not put ice or other creams on the injury site.

2nd degree: Pain, redness, blistering or broken skin ---> Run under cold water, cover with clean cotton dressing or other bandage. No creams, ice, etc. Do not pop blisters. May scar or result in altered sensation.

3rd degree: Likely no pain in the general region, split or absent skin, charring, dry to the touch. --> Not OK. Scarring is certain, see a medical professional because complications and/or infections from this type of burn are common. Yes, it might heal, but it's a high risk incident and I wouldn't bet my license on it. These burns result in nerve damage, severe scarring, dehydration and infection.

If you're asking about the dangers of repeated burning...nothing magical there I think, just scarring, infection, etc. Pretty much the same risks as you'd get from cutting although your risk of scarring is much greater. I would also remind your guy that it's not the pain of a 3rd degree burn that she's after, a 3rd degree burn is painless. Once you pass the 2nd degree stage you'll have killed the nerves. So there's no point in burning after a certain point unless you really want to have serious scarring and infection risk. Generally speaking, 1st degree burns that blister (might actually be a superficial 2nd at that juncture) are probably the most painful.

Scheduling note to my friends: I'm doing family duty today. But I am available to slip away for an hour here and there Wednesday and Thursday, and I'm back to being available Friday.

***

To amuse you: just for fun, I went back through the archives to see what I wrote about around this date in previous years. So enjoy the blasts from the past.
July 2004: Strange Emails
July 2005: Silly Phone calls
July 2006: Drugs and Music
July 2007: More Phone Oddness

An odd occurrence recently...

Someone I have not met before contacted me about a session. I am not meeting very many new people these days - the gentlemen I already know keep me pretty busy. But if you have a reference from another woman, someone local with a good reputation, then I'm open to talking to you. (More about how sex-worker references work.)

This man said he had a reference. So I sent an email to the lady he named. Now, usually this sort of information-exchange is pretty rote. For example:

Hello... A gentleman named Bob contacted me and said he knows you. His email is whatever@whatever.com, he says he saw you about two months ago, and you'll recall him because you two both love lawn-bowling and you talked about it. Thanks!

***

Hi... Oh yeah, I remember Bob. Yes, he's a very nice guy, tell him I said hi.

Like that. It's rare to get a negative response, partly because most clients are decent guys, and also they are not dumb enough to give you the name of a woman who they know had an issue with them.

And it's also rare for women to discuss anything intimate about a client - that's not what this is about. The purpose is to ascertain a very basic level of safety. And Seattle sex workers are usually very good about answering these kinds of emails, even with women they don't know personally.

It's also considered nice, although not absolutely necessary, for the client to drop a note to the woman he's already met, telling her that he's using her as a reference to another lady.

Thus, I was surprised to get an email back saying, "No, I've never met this guy. We're exchanged emails, but that's all. I had no idea that he was giving me as a reference to anyone."

Huh. How strange. I'm not sure if the man in question just doesn't understand how a reference works? Or maybe he thought I wouldn't check? Either way, it's just odd.

Whoops, I forgot to link to the new column. It's a bit... tart. But you know I only say these things because you laugh.

Also: Since Phil Gramm says only whiners think we're going to have/having a recession, and I don't want to be a whiner... I'm window-shopping online. (Plus, someone who indulges me suggested to me that I should.)

And I really, really want this bronze leather jacket. Doesn't it just say "decadent excess" to you?

Happy Friday - and it's time for another podcast. This time, Monk and I talk about a subject we are eminently qualified to discuss: How to keep your BDSM light and fun. Money quote:
Matisse: Anything a man says to you when he has a hard-on doesn't count.
Monk: That means half of what I've said to you in our relationship doesn't count!

(About ten minutes long, and clearly unsafe for work.)

Oh, man. See, this is why I’m not sure I want to be any more famous than I am. The New York Times ran an article this week about the fact that all links and references to sex writer Violet Blue have been systematically removed from the website Boing Boing. (Need a password? Use one of these.)

This isn’t recent news, and I’m not sure why the NYT decided to talk about it now. But they did, and they speculated that the “unpublishing” happened because of a personal issue between Violet Blue and one of the site’s contributors, Xeni Jardin. I myself do not know Ms. Jardin, and I have only an electronic acquaintance with Ms. Blue. So I do not have any idea what really happened there. Nor do I think it’s any of my business. But then, I don’t really think it’s anyone’s business.

Granted, the writer also posed – but did not answer – a few token questions about the responsibilities of bloggers, which is not an uninteresting subject. But overall, the whole thing just felt really gossipy to me. Oscar Wilde once said the only thing worse than being talked about was not being talked about. I know what he meant, and I often enjoy my tiny bit of celebrity-dom. But I also know I would hate it if my private affairs were being commented on in the bloody New York Times. Luckily, that doesn't seem like something that's likely to happen.

Writing about one’s life is tricky sometimes. It’s not just a matter of what I’m comfortable revealing to the world – I have to be careful not to say too much about other people, either. But sometimes it’s difficult not to write what I’m thinking. No matter what other verbal path I start down, my fingers wind up typing out whatever is at the front of my brain.

And what I’m thinking about lately is: Man, there is a lot of polyamory tension in the air lately! Just seems like a number of people are having trouble making the courses of their different loves run smooth. It’s funny how it seems to go in streaks – for a while everyone will be rolling along just fine, and then there’s a seismic shift, the ground moves under our feet, and everyone starts stumbling and crashing into each other.

None of this trouble is mine, and I’m profoundly grateful for how well things are going between me and Max, and me and Monk. I cannot tell you how many times I have turned to each of them in the last few weeks and said, “Thank you so much for being so amazingly cool.” And they have said the same to me, which is nice.

So I’m watching all these other storms spinning around me, like the Tasmanian devils in Bugs Bunny. And not only is it hard to not write about it, it’s hard to not speak up real life, too. One wants to pet people and say things like, “Oh, honey, I see that this is being hard for you, but just breathe - your sweetie loves you, everything is going to be all right, and this yucky part will pass.” This generic bit of advice being applicable to the majority of poly upsets.

But I don’t give advice unless I’m asked for it. Unless, of course, I can’t seem to write about anything else.

Pop Culture

I saw two movies over the weekend, which is slightly unusual for me. And more oddly still, I had a moment of yeah, that’s happened to me in each of them.

The first one was Get Smart, which I saw with Max Friday night. There’s a scene where Agent 99, played by Anne Hathaway, is tied up in the back seat of a car during a high-speed chase. The car is being driven by her former lover, who’s a double agent. He’s going to kill her and set off a bomb, but they get sidetracked into sniping at each other, in a manner typical of ex-lovers.

Stung by a jab of Anne’s, he yells back at her, “Well, some men like women who are feminine!”

Anne rears up in outrage and screeches, “Are you calling me unfeminine?” And, while still tied up, kicks him in the face – hard.

Which to me does not seem like a completely unreasonable response in that circumstance. I have never actually kicked someone in the face, but I myself have been called unfeminine, and at the time it I got rather annoyed by it. I knew, intellectually, that what it meant was “You scare me. Women aren’t supposed to scare men. Therefore you are not acting like a woman.” I would imagine pretty much any woman who’s strong-minded, independent, and direct about what she wants, in bed and out of it, gets this at least once in her life, if not more. It’s one of those put-downs that utterly reveals the insecurities of person who says it.

But still – at the time, it pissed me off. So I thought, “Yeah, you just go, girl. Show his ass unfeminine.”

Then on Saturday night, Monk and I went to see Wanted, with Angelina Jolie. It was what he and I call a Gun-Porn movie - meaning a movie in which sexy people with really BIG guns shoot each other over and over.

In this movie, Angelina and James McAvoy are professional assassins. There’s a scene in which the two of them are crouched in hiding, waiting to spring out and kill someone. James turns to Angelina and says, “Do you ever think about being… some other way?” When she displays confusion, he says, “You know, like not doing this. Like just being…normal?”

Angelina looks at him like he’s crazy. “No.”

And then they leap out to kill someone. Which again, I have never done, and don’t plan on doing. But still – I have had people indicate to me that my life wasn’t what they considered normal. It wasn’t a compliment. Some of them had a mistaken idea that I would change it to suit them. My solution was to invite them to not participate in it.

I really want that short white leather jacket Agent 99 was wearing for a chunk of the movie, and if anyone calls me unfeminine while I’m in it, well, there’s just no telling what I might do. Because I’m really not interested in being someone else’s idea of normal.

Wow, I’m not feeling super-inspired, writing-wise, the last week or so. And my motto is: when you can’t think of anything else to say - make fun of people.

Thus, the complete and unedited text of an email I received.

Wish to surrender, be blindfolded, restrained, whipped until cry/blood spilt, used by any number of males/females, like the star in The Story of O for however long you wish and anything else you wish, including branding.

All right, there’s nothing dramatically wrong with the basic idea here. But – why does this person not use the word I? People who don’t say I remind me of old Charlie Chan movies – that faux-Asian accent thing.

Nice to know branding is included. It’s always a pain when you get the contract and read the fine print and see that they want to bill your credit card separately for that.

I like how he/she specifies that they would be like the star of The Story of O. It was my observation of the book/movie that pretty much all the bottoms got those things done to them – but then, we are all the star in the movies in our heads, aren’t we?

But if you think of it terms of movies… Well, when I read emails like this, I can hear the voice of Miss K – she of the brutally honest response – saying “Why do I care about this?” Jae would probably say, “Yeah, and people in hell want ice water. So what?” That’s because one thing all three of us have in common is that we all have a background in theatre and writing. When you tell a story, either on a stage or on a page, if you wish to capture your audience, you must make them care about your character. A flat statement of need does not emotionally engage people.

It’s not like I’m trolling for slaves amongst one-line emails from strangers in any case. But messages like this certainly do not make me wish to add the writer to my cast of characters.

This is something I’ve been wondering about lately, because of one of my friends’ argument’s for pre-marital sex. She’s of the opinion that you should have sex before marriage so you can dump them if they’re a lousy lay, or you don't have a conveniently common kink, or whatever.

So in that vein, pretend for a moment that you have room in your life for another long-term partner. You meet someone. They’re gorgeous, they’re intelligent, they’re witty, you’re in love with them… but they’re completely vanilla. Not only have they never done kink before, almost everything about BDSM is squicky to them. Black leather makes them raise an eyebrow, the purpose of your spanking bench and floggers completely eludes them, and the thought of needles, canes, or electrocution gives them a touch of the vapours. Would you be able to have a romantic relationship with this person? Why/why not?

I cannot believe anyone would get married without having sex first. I mean, I know people do, but... good lord. I simply cannot wrap my little brain around that idea.

This is kind of a muddled question. It hinges on whether or not the hypothetical me is poly. Because I have had ongoing sexual relationships with people who weren’t seriously kinky. Do a search for “Mike”, a guy with whom I had a delightful FWB thing a couple of years ago, before I started dating Monk. He’s a lovely man, it was a charming little affair – and he’s not into BDSM. He wasn’t squicked, he just sort of shrugged and said, “Well, if you really want me to, I would try, but…” A GG&G response, but not a sacrifice I needed.

And while Mike wasn’t into BDSM, he was perfectly fine and respectful about the fact that I was.

So yeah, not being kinky is a handicap, and it’s going to present a challenge to any long-term, high-frequency relationship. But for an occasional thing? Sure.

And, quite frankly, I have a good track record with converting people to kink. But as with Mike, I don’t always feel it’s necessary that I should.

(Yes, I know I’ve said I don’t know how you can get your partner to be kinky. It’s true, I don’t. I know some ways I would try to get your partner to be kinky, but that’s different. There are some skills I possess that I simply cannot explain. Besides, as persuasive as I am, even my conversion rate is not 100%.)

Would I be monogamous with such a person? No. But I wouldn’t be monogamous with anyone, so the point is moot.

But what jumped out at me from this letter was the fast slide between, “You meet someone. They’re gorgeous, they’re intelligent, they’re witty,” and then “ you’re in love with them.” I have met gorgeous, intelligent, witty people with whom I’m actually not in love. I’ve even slept with some of them. Sexual attraction, taking pleasure in someone’s company, having fun times together, attachment, affection and caring on both sides – those are all things I’ve experienced a fair amount of. But being In Love? Whoa, that’s big time.

So no, I don’t think I could fall in love with someone who treated a significant part of my identity with active disdain. I think there’s something more than sexual going awry with someone who does.

Ya'll have been asking for it, so Monk and I made it happen: another podcast. In this edition, he and I both give our take on how to share information about a new partner in polyamory with your existing partners. Hope you enjoy it...