She also goes by the name Perversion Barbie on MySpace (myspace.com/perversionbarbie), where she refers to herself as "the one who has Ken tied up in the dungeon."
On the job, Seven says she's amenable to just about anything that doesn't include children, animals and the breaking of bones.
Tony Blei
Mistress Seven in her mandatory work uniform.
Tony Blei
Mistress Seven with an essential tool of her trade.
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But if one of her slaves wants to pretend he's an animal, say, a "bad puppy," bring it on.
Seven also has embraced the sadomasochistic "arts" of smothering, trampling, needle play, blade play, electrical play, wax play, gagging, mummification (look out, King Tut!), body suspension, and a bunch of acronyms only insiders could define, including GS, RS, CBT, CBB, NT, and BS.
Seven admits to having engaged in all manner of what we'll call "toilet games" and leave it at that. And she sounds sincere when speaking about how much she enjoys that particular part of her repertoire.
"I like that it's wrong, I like that it's disgusting, and I like that I'm liking it," she says. "And, two, I want to be the, quote, hot chick, who's the one doing it."
Seven's play-acting roles at work include evil nurse/patient, goddess/worshipper, teacher/student, queen/peasant, owner/pet (good for a howl), and policewoman/criminal.
As for the last, Seven says she has a client who's actually a cop at a Valley agency.
His name is . . . oh, never mind.
Naturally, she refuses to name any of her clients (bad for business), but she concedes that they range from bankers and real estate agents to computer geeks, lawyers and car salesmen.
With Officer X, Seven says she relishes literally pounding a "confession" out of her slave. The real-life cop assumes the role of a criminal who won't confess to wrongdoing without certain "proddings" and other interview techniques more common to, say, Gitmo (Guantanamo Bay Naval Base, where terror suspects are detained).
In her fantasy police world, the Miranda Warning against self-incrimination is "suspended" (maybe in midair, depending on the vibe) during the "interrogation."
Seven also won't say how much the cop or anyone else pays for her attention, but she suggests that her "tips" can be substantial.
On the job, she's in physical control of her environment and of the men under her thumb — and, at times, the rest of her. But Seven's personal life is a different ball of wax (sometimes literally), though it's every bit as kinky as her professional world.
Currently, it is, well, dominated by overlapping relationships with various men. During her private playtime, she prefers to be what's known in her subculture as a "submissive."
"I kick around people daily, and the last thing in the world I want is to be like that at home," she says. "I submit to certain guys like putty. My turn-ons are blood, pain and the extreme. I get a rush out of being hurt, though most guys don't want to hurt me. You don't have to twist my arm or pull teeth to get me to do stuff."
Seven pauses to digest what she's just said, and breaks out laughing.
"Hmmm," she says. "I guess a little twisting and pulling would be okay."
That this one-time homecoming queen candidate at Phoenix North High School still is among the living often surprises her.
But that won't stop her from what she calls "playing with life" away from the dungeon.
On her MySpace page, she writes, "I have opened up to people in my life about my fantasies, desires, wants and needs, and have never heard from them ever again. I like blood and gore. I like the thrill of riding the line of life and death . . . They call me the S&M Superhero. I have more than nine lives. My life speaks life . . . and it speaks death. I am sexually aroused by life, and I am sexually aroused by death."
Yes, Mistress Seven has been a very bad girl for a very long time.
As she reveals herself, much of Seven's story seems sadly defined by her admittedly self-destructive and tumultuous nature. She's a damaged soul who insists on waving her freak flag on a daily basis off the highest, most dangerous cliff she can scale.
"There's both a lot of light and darkness in me, and I always feel both sides pulling hard," she says.
"I have a lot of self-hatred and I've had a lifelong death wish — a lot of inner demons. But I'm so much of a pussy I couldn't pick up a gun and put it to my own head. I've been this wild, drunken, bar-fighting bitch who's dragged a lot of people down. I really want to figure out what's making my head tick because it's really fucked up up there."
It's a Friday night in early May at the rambling Desert Ridge Marketplace, just north of the 101, off Tatum Boulevard.
The mall is popular with young families and teenagers, especially on weekend nights, when hundreds of people stroll slowly around the contoured outdoor walkways, shopping and taking in the sights.
Seven sits with an inquisitor on a bench outside the Paradise Bakery & Cafe and begins to tell her story. She says she's nervous and not feeling in control, and can't bring herself to eat.
