This article was published more than 23 years ago. Some information may no longer be current. Mistress Ruby was born when Robin Shamburg needed money and column fodder though she coyly ascribes her stint as a dominatrix to "the dubious dance between intention and accident". Mistress Ruby gave whippings and enemas to businessmen in a New York dungeon, then wrote about it at the end of every week for The New York Press.
Because this book is patched together from columns spanning three years, it's uneven: Some chapters seem to address potential clients or professional dominatrixes; others speak to a non-pervy, giggly friend. The first or so pages are all about being a dominatrix, nothing else, then suddenly and inexplicably we're treated to unrelated events -- like the block party culminating in a man throwing his toupee at the author.
Then it's right back to the psychology of a cross-dresser. You wouldn't want to talk to a one-time financier in-law at Thanksgiving about the inner workings of Wall Street if she or he had never been organically excited by the job.
Nor is it enjoyable to read about the world of BDSM bondage, discipline and sadomasochism from someone whose interest in it was strictly: 1. What makes the client climax most quickly, and return most often i. What makes a good column i. Shamburg's stories never once get really hot -- or human.
In the rare moments when she does allow herself to become involved in what is happening, she is charming -- such as when she and her lonely beatee share the "rare camaraderie of castaways" in a theme room of the dungeon on Christmas day.
