Caller: Mistress Matisse? I have a question.
Me: Okay, what is it?
Caller: I want to come see you… but, well, I read that you're a photographer.
Me: Yes, I am--but what does that have to do with you coming to see me?
Caller: Well, it's like--I heard that sometimes pro dommes take pictures of people without them knowing it. You know… really explicit pictures.
Me: Hmmn. I've never heard of anyone doing that, and I certainly don't. Do you mean to blackmail people with?
Caller: No. I mean, I guess you could, but I meant like, well, you know, all those pictures you see of guys tied up and stuff on the Internet. Like the mistress takes them and sells them to porn sites. So I'd come see you, but I don't want my picture on a porn site.
Wow, welcome to the Hotel Paranoia. Part of me thinks I should just say thank you and goodbye to this guy right now, because my experience is when someone has some bizarre reason why they can't come see me, it's impossible to reason their fears away. The thing that perplexes me, though, is why they feel compelled to call me and tell me about it. It's like they want me to try to talk them out of being afraid, even though I can't succeed.
Me: I don't take pictures of anyone unless they ask me to.
Caller: But you have, like, hidden video cameras set up all over your dungeon, right? To make videos for your porn site?
Me: No, I don't. I don't have a porn site, and as I said, I do not take pictures of anyone unless they ask me to.
Caller: Well, no offense, but that's what you'd say, isn't it?
Me: If you're calling me a liar, then yes, that is offensive. And besides, what you're talking about is a serious crime.
Caller: Oh, invasion of privacy, that's pretty minor.
Me: "Invasion of privacy" nothing--it's a federal crime to put adult images on a website unless you have proof that the person was over 18 at the time the picture was taken.
There's a brief pause, in which I again reflect that I should just hang up, except that he'd just call me right back to finish explaining to me why he's not coming to see me.
Caller: I'll come see you if I can wear a mask the whole time I'm there.
I instantly picture a guy in a Darth Vader helmet, or a hockey mask, trying to kiss my feet, and it makes me laugh. A sexy little black mask like Zorro wears might be okay, but that's probably not what he means, since it doesn't really conceal much of one's face. But there's no way I'm going to conduct a pre-scene negotiation with some guy who's looking like Hannibal Lecter. Besides, I don't think I want to see anyone as paranoid as this guy is anyway.
Me: No, that's not possible.
Caller: If I can wear a mask I'd let you take pictures of me. You could put them on your website.
Isn't it amazing how closely related his fear is to his turn-on? Because now he sounds unmistakably excited by the idea of his picture appearing online. But I'm imagining a naked guy wearing a Planet of the Apes mask while I flog him, and I really don't think I'd be able to keep a straight face for that. (Of course, if he'd wear the whole costume, maybe I could sell the pictures to a fur-suit sex site. Hmmnn.)
Me: Look, if you get turned on by wearing masks, we can talk about you doing that in a session. But you can't wear one every second that you're in my place just because you think I have hidden cameras. If you want to see me, you have to spend some time at least talking to me without a mask on.
There's a silence while he thinks about that.
Caller: If I come see you, will you show me all the pictures you've taken of your other clients?
Click. I hang up.