Saturday, September 22, 2007

Dropped Balls and Phone Calls
So some kinky women I know have asked if I'm going to Wicked Womyn. The answer is: I think not.

Not because it's not a great event. I've been before and had big fun. And I think women, even straight women, can get a lot out of a women-only event. Granted, I'm not straight, but I know women who are entirely heterosexual (yes, really) who they tell me they always learn a lot of new stuff and have fun hanging out without the whole guy-energy thing happening. So especially if you're still learning about BDSM - and god, who isn't, really? - women's events are cool.

That said, I forgot to register. I think it was a freudian slip - we have guests coming, and then I leave for Folsom in a week, and then I get back and dive directly into a visit from my mother, who I love, but who wants all of my attention when she's in town. Like, all of it, all the time. I just think I'm going to feel a little socialized-out by the time Oct 12th rolls around.

And then I heard registration was closed - they got filled up. C'est la vie, I thought. I should stay home and chill anyway.
However, apparently some pals of mine are planning the most awesomely awesome scene I have ever heard of in my life, a pure stroke of Milton Bradley genius, and I'd like to see it. And Jae let me know she wanted me to thrash her severely, which is always a charming prospect.

"But registration's closed," I told Jae.
"Ma'am," she said impatiently, "you're Mistress fucking Matisse! Talk to somebody. Call in some favors. They'll let you in."

Huh. I don't share her utter certainly, but... it does seems like this local notoriety ought to be good for something. Perhaps I will fire off some emails and see who I can sweet-talk about admission to one of the parties, at least. We'll see how far reputation gets a girl in this town.

Friday, September 21, 2007

Future Projects

I have had some ideas lately about some future projects I’d like to do. Let’s see what ya’ll think of them.

Video clips: I’m thinking of creating a series of short video clips, about 3-5 minutes each, designed to demonstrate some very basic BDSM skills. Now, I do not even want to deal with the current 2257 regulations about distributing adult content. So I’m going to learn a lesson from Monk’s Youtube success and just do clips with no nudity. It’s my thought that if there’s no naughty bits showing, I can post them to Youtube and not have them pulled.

I did ask Monk what he thought would happen if I used a blow-up sex doll for the demos. You know, it’s not a person, right? Thus, not obscene.

He furrowed his famous brow at me and said skeptically, “You’re seriously considering uploading a video to the web of you flogging a blow-up doll?”

Yeah, okay, I guess that is a bad idea. Hey, I’m just looking for work-arounds, here. Here’s what is on my list so far:

  • Basic spanking and flogging techniques.
  • A tour of the most common electrical toys and what they do.
  • Play piercing demo and basic FAQ.
  • Nipple clamps, and other types of clamps as well: how to choose them, where to put them, et cetera.
  • I cannot actually do anything with anal penetration, which is a pity, since it’s a skill everyone should have. But I can talk about choosing a butt toy, with examples, and discuss some of the basic issues.
  • I want to do something with genital bondage, obviously, since it’s a favorite of mine. I’m thinking of using a lifelike dildo for the CBT clip. And I suppose they do make rubber facsimiles of pussies, don’t they? Although I’m not sure I'd be able to keep a straight face, since those things just look ridiculous to me. So that’s a problem.

I don’t have a videographer/editor nailed down for this. The person who did Monk’s is great but rather busy, so if you’re local and you want the job, talk to me.

Ditto if you want to be a model. Yes, you must be able to show your face. I can’t pay you, but I’ll do my best to make it fun for you, and if you have a web site of your own, I’ll plug you shamelessly.

Now a question for the ladies, especially ladies who don't consider themselves especially kinky. I'm thinking of pitching some of the glossy women's magazines about some how-to pieces. You see those "How To Drive Your Man Wild In Bed" headlines, but the advice always seems pretty ho-hum to me. What bit of sexual lore would you really like to see explained in an article?

I’m also considering, just considering, creating a site for text-based paid content. The subject matter? Why, only the question I get asked every bloody week: How do I become a pro domme? If everyone wants to know so bad, seems like I should teach them – for a fee. At this point I think it would be broken down into chapters, like a textbook, and you’d have to buy access to each one individually. I would probably build in prerequisites – you would have to buy each chapter in sequence, you couldn’t just buy chapters 7 and 13 randomly.

I’d sort of dig teaching it as an online course, with tests and stuff, but I’m not sure how to do that easily. And that's a pretty big project, so it's not going to happen overnight.

So that's what I'm thinking about for now. All this after I finish a certain other writing project that I'm behind on.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

So, let's talk about the column for a minute, because things have changed. I learned this week that instead of being in the online version every week and in the dead-tree paper every other week, I am now going to be in both the paper and online every other week, period.

I'm not sure how the schedule for that is going to look, but when a new column of mine appears in The Stranger, I will certainly link to it here.

I'm not sure what's going on with the Kink Calendar. My best guess is that it'll run when I do and that I'll expand the event coverage to cover two weeks instead of one.

If you have opinions on the matter, I encourage you to express them to the good people at The Stranger.

Meanwhile, Rob Brezsny had this to say to me this week:
"Of all the signs in the zodiac, you routinely enjoy the most interesting problems. No one else can compete with your talent for dreaming up original sins, either. I expect that in the coming weeks, you'll once again assert your mastery in these two areas, leaving the rest of us muttering in amazed awe as we behold the beautiful, stinking, useful, hellacious, intriguing messes you stir up. Congratulations in advance for the resourcefulness and courage I know you will summon from the abyss of your subconscious mind."

Sometimes I think that man should be burned.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Ring Ring!

Me: hello?

Caller: Yeah, hey, hello - are you a dominatrix? Is that what you are?

The caller has a heavy East Coast accent – it’s not quite pure Noo Yawk, but it’s something like it. He’s also talking really fast. And sweetie, if I think you're talking fast, you're really talking fast.

I’m willing to accept that his manner of address is a regional-cultural thing, but to my ears, it sounds rude and abrupt. I get a mental picture of a big guy who looks like he should play a minor role on The Sopranos, a low-level mobster-type.

And I have a feeling this guy and I are not going to click together, but let’s see if he can salvage the conversation.

Me: Yes, this is Mistress Matisse, and -

Caller: Yeah, because I was looking at your ad here? So you’re like, what, you do like slave stuff? You like beat people and stuff? Is that what you do?

Me: No, I -

Caller: Do you like beat people hard and stuff like that? Or do you do like massage or whatever, or what? Hey, do you do half hour sessions? How much for a half hour?

Me: Actually, I -

Caller: Or, hey, what about, like, do you ever do slave stuff yourself? Like you be the slave and somebody else be the master? Like that? So where are you, exactly? Are you in Seattle? Where are you located? Or do you come to me?

Me: Stop! Stop talking.

Caller: What? Wha’d you say?

Me: Stop. Talking. You’re asking me all these questions and then interrupting me when I try to answer. Be quiet and listen to me and I will answer them for you.

Caller: Oh, yeah, okay, go ahead, yeah, like, tell me where -

Me: Be quiet. No, I don’t do half hour sessions. In fact, I am not taking new clients at all without a reference.

This is mostly true, although if I really think I’ll like you, then I make exceptions. However, that does not apply here, since I hate this guy. I don’t know if he’s on drugs, or if he always talks this much, this fast, and this unceasingly. Frankly, I hope for his sake he’s smoking meth, because at least then, when he comes down, he’ll stop talking.

And he must not be a mobster, because if he was hanging around other mobsters, someone would have whacked him by now just for being so annoying.

Caller: A reference? Like what? What do you mean a reference? Like somebody else to tell you I’m like a good slave or, what, like you mean –

Me: Stop talking and let me answer. I mean I need another mistress, or maybe even an established escort or sensual touch practioner, to say she’s met you and you’re a nice guy.

Caller: What about a half hour appointment? Can you come to my hotel? Just half an hour? Do I need a reference for that? You don’t put people in jail, do you?

Me: What? What do you –

Caller: You know, like jail, like arresting people? You’re not like that, are you? Like a cop?

He asks me that as if being a cop was some unfortunate moral failing that someone might fall prey to, a bad habit. Perhaps he is still subscribing the ancient and completely false idea that if you ask an undercover cop if they are a cop, they have to say yes. That’s not true and never has been. Cops can deny being cops until the cows come home, and still arrest you if you do something illegal. Not only is this guy not a mobster, he’s obviously never even seen any movies about mobsters where they get infiltrated by undercover agents.

But whatever. I am so done with this conversation.

Me: I’m not taking new clients, so I suggest you look elsewhere –

Caller: No, hey, what about –

Me: Goodbye.

I hang up and then put the phone down on my desk. It’s in vibrate mode, and it immediately begins to buzz again, the clip rattling against my desktop. I don’t answer. There’s a pause, and then it starts buzzing yet again. My cat, sleeping on the desk next to it, wakes up and bats at it slightly with one paw as it jitterbugs around in a half-circle. Next time the buzzing stops, I turn it off completely. I haven’t bothered to clear messages from that line today, but I have no doubt that when I do, the fast-talking Yankee will have left me any number of long messages where he talks and talks and talks, asking questions that he will not be hearing the answers to.

Monday, September 17, 2007