Legends of Dominance - 16

From SM-201
Jump to: navigation, search

This article is titled
Legends of Dominance
by Mistress Michelle Peters et al.
and posted with permission
(All information herein is provided by author)

Legends of Dominance Article Index

Also see: Name Cross Reference

Mistress Jennifer Antone

The Web
Author Unknown
From Enslave Magazine
Vol. 4, No. 6, 1995

I met Mistress Jennifer Antone in 1987 when attending a private party, soon her and I became friends. We would often sit and talk at these parties for hours, not to mention getting into sessions with people also. We also did a few dual profssional sessions together. I remember one time we had done a session and then we were going to walk from her apartment to another apartment in the same complex. I changed into my street clothes , the ones I was going to wear at the party. And in those days we dressed up. Mistress Jennifer didnt care, we just walked a few doors down , her in rubber and leather, we got some stares. Later as time went by Mistress Jennifer introduced me to her younger daugther who also became a professional Dominantrix. I have photos of them at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LegendsofDominance

Mistress Jennifer sat in her study and quietly pondered the behavior of her maid, "This just isn't like her. She rarely makes any mistakes, let alone get careless as she has lately. The beds have been OK, but not up to usual standards. The laundry has been finished properly, but not put away as neatly. The windows have been done, but like the mirrors, are slightly streaky, which just isn't like her."

Mistress continued to be lost in her thoughts for a while. Then a slight smile came to her and she said calmly out loud, "That's it." She checked her appointment calendar, made a couple of calls, then reached for her gold Dragon bell to summon her maid. Cheri was in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to the room after cleaning up after lunch. She heard her Mistress summon her and started to move towards the study. She stopped and thought to herself, just a few more seconds and I'll be done here. She quickly, (she thought), finished up, then took a bit to check her uniform and strode off to greet her Mistress.

Mistress Jennifer was waiting not so patiently. She finally heard the familiar rustle of the petticoat coming down the hall and thought, I hope my idea also gets her back up to speed. Seconds later the maid stood before her Mistress in the study. Mistress noticed the proper, but a bit lazy curtsy was followed by the usually enthusiastic, "Yes Mistress."

Immediately Mistress observed in a frustrated tone, "Where is your cap?"

Both of the maid's hands shot to the top of her head, where she discovered the accuracy of her Mistress's observation. She knew the cap had a troubled clasp and she had been meaning to fix it, but just hadn't gotten around to it.

As Mistress waited for her response, the maid's face reddened with embarrassment. She stammered her answer, "I—uh—well. The beret hasn't worked quite right, but I thought—"

The usually patient Mistress displayed her growing impatience by cutting her maid off. "Yes. Well. A lot of little things haven't worked properly around here lately—including you." The lady in black leather locked her eyes onto her maid's. She rose from behind her desk, and, never breaking eye contact, approached her worrying maid. She stood in front of the now shivering maid and said quietly, "I want you to follow me. I think you need a rest—among other things."

A smarter curtsy from the maid followed this remark, but also a little less enthusiastic, "Yes, Mistress." As she followed her Mistress out the door, she had the strangest remembrance from an old children's poem, "Welcome to my web, said the spider to the fly." She couldn't figure why she thought of this now, but, she was to find out soon. She followed her Mistress and was puzzled when she took her into the Maid's own bedroom. Mistress sat on her maid's bed and looked around the room. Nice, she thought to herself, but not the usual immaculate condition.

She ordered her maid to strip. All but the stockings.

As her maid hurried to comply, Mistress Jennifer moved to the closet, opened the doors and searched through the hangers. When she found what she wanted she turned and saw her now naked maid awaiting further orders.

She approached her maid and handed her the garment. "Put this on. I will lace it." The maid recognized the red corset as the one she always struggled with because it was a size smaller than what she normally wore.

Mistress watched as her maid struggled to connect the steel claps. She let her impatience show to hurry the struggling girl. When the maid got the final clasp hooked, Mistress ordered, "Connect your stockings. Get your red high heels. Bring your latex maid's uniform and meet me in the dungeon. In one minute."

One minute later, the stockinged maid, arms full of latex and heels entered the dungeon. Mistress Jennifer was at the far end of the dungeon lighting incense, when she heard the worried girl arrive. She snapped without looking in her direction, "Drop that stuff right there and grab the suspension bar."

The maid quickly complied and as oon as she had grasped the bar her istress was right behind her and began the process of tightening the corset.

Cheri quickly realized that this would e tighter than anything she had ever xperience, and she was an experienced corset wearer.

Minutes later, the maid was intructed to drop her hold on the suspension bar and to bend over the spanking orse. She looked in the mirror and saw her Mistress soon return to her with a arge butt plug with a funny shape to he back end. Not only had she not seen his plug before, it was slightly larger than anything she had experienced.

As Mistress Jennifer lubricated the nd and moved toward her maid she aid, "Like my new toy? This has a ibrator in it." The maid winced as she felt herself being invaded. Mistress continued, drinking in her maid's reactions, "The really nice thing about this is it is remote control. I can control not only the intensity of vibration, but the interval and duration. I can also set it so you will not know when or how hard it will vibrate."

Once the plug was all the way in. Mistress said, "I don't want you to worry about it falling out." She produced a chastity belt, which she proceeded pull as tight as possible between the maid's legs to force the plug even deeper and constrict her maid's now excited penis.

Mistress ordered, "Put your latex uniform on. I don't want you to get a chill while you rest." She moved over to the rack where she kept her ropes and as she made her selections, she watched her maid struggle to get the uniform on over the extremely constricting corset. Before finishing her rope choices, she moved to the vibrating plugs control box and flipped the switch marked 'intermittent', then told her maid, "Lay on your stomach, facing the mirror."

She reached her maid, -knelt beside her and said, "I don't want your moaning from the pleasure of the plug to disturb the neighbors." She produced two pieces of red plastic tape and gagged her maid.

Mistress Jennifer proceeded to hogtie her maid in front of the mirror. When she was finished she told her captive, "I have some appointments this afternoon. I want you lay here and rest. She saw her maid tense, then whimper through the gag. She felt her maid's behind and knew that the butt plug had started its work. She arose and stood for several minutes admiring her handiwork.

She turned te leave, but stopped at the door to speak a departing remark to her captive, "Oh, so you won't get bored, the plug is set so you don't know how long it will vibrate or with what intensity. Enjoy." She shut the light out and left. The bound maid laid quietly in the dimly-lit dungeon she felt was home. She uncomfortably reflected on many things while she waited for her Mistress' return. Mistress had never punished her like this before and, not that she found the experience totally unappealing, she knew she had definitely displeased her Mistress. That alone convinced her that she deserved any punishment Mistress could conceive, even more.

Cheri also remembered that the black widow spider enables its prey then stores it in a cocoon until it's ready for it. She dismissed this thought quickly when the butt plug started again. She wouldn't dismiss that thought later.

Mistress Jennifer had an afternoon filled with meetings and clients. When she finally got back, she knew the first thing she needed was a hot soak in the tub. She started to summon her maid when she realized where she had left her.

She was kind of disappointed that she would have to get her own bath and dinner before attending to her captive. Mistress would definitely remember this too when she got to the dungeon.

While she made her way to the dungeon after her nice hot bath and meal, she recalled that it had been quite a while since she had punished her faithful servant, and never this severely. She was sure the problem was each of them had started taking the other for granted, and she was sure this session would help them both. Besides, it had been a while since she had done this for her pure enjoyment and how much fun it was playing with her maid.

Reaching the dungeon door she opened it as quietly as possible. She slowly stepped inside and watched her prey struggle. Every time the vibrator would start, a definite moan would come through the red plastic tape gag. She watched as Cheri would move around as much as she could, trying to find a comfortable position.

She moved as quietly as she could to a position right next to, but out of her captive's line of sight. She waited another minute or two then knelt down beside her maid, who finally saw her in the mirror, and said quietly, "How's my little fly?"

She reached out and tenderly brushed the hair off the face of her maid.

She started to loosen the maid's bonds and ordered, "Straighten your arms and legs but stay in that position until I tell you to move." When she had removed the rope, she didn't put it away, but dropped it on the floor and went to the wall for some more. While she was there, she shut the butt plug off, for now.

Cheri watched her Mistress get more rope, then come back over to her and hold her hand out. "Stand up. I'll help you."

The maid took her Mistress's hand to steady herself on her wobbly legs. Mistress pulled a key out of her pocket, reached under the latex skirt, pulled down the red and black latex panties and unlocked the chastity belt. "Pull your panties back up. I've got something else to hold that in place."

Delicately, Mistress Jennifer started to weave a rope web around her maid. Around the waist, then between the legs. She brought the rope up to the waist again and pulled it tight. She separated the two ropes between her legs to sensually capture the maid's genitals and to secure the butt plug. She continued the web over her chest, accenting the maid's breasts, then down over the shoulders and tied tightly at the waist. The maid had watched in amazement while her Mistress wove this beautiful rope web over her body.

Mistress then lowered the suspension bar and tied her maid's arms straight out at the shoulders. She raised the bar until the maid was almost on her toes then ordered, "Spread your legs—wider." She looped the rope through the locked cuffs on the maid's ankles and started to weave a web of rope the hold her captive. In the most intricate of patterns, she captured her maid so any movement but the slightest was impossible. Delicately, but deliberately, Mistress Jennifer spun her web around her maid. From ankles to post and back, waist to post to arms, and back, each time at a different angle. First the right side, then the left, weaving an intricate and beautiful web pattern, capturing her helpless prey.

Finally she stood back to admire her work. Mistress went over and turned on the vibrating butt plug to a soft gentle hum, picked up her favorite cane, then returned to her prey. With cane in hand, she started weaving another web-type pattern on her maid; a web of loving pain. Cheri was helpless. That is how she wanted to be. The rope web that held the invader in place, transferred the vibrations to the maid's penis and breasts. Soon the vibrations, mixed with the attention of her Mistress, the feeling of helplessness and the erotic stinging of the cane, took the maid to the edge of ecstasy. Mistress Jennifer kept her maid there, never crossing the barrier to orgasm, and finding, herself, this scene as rewarding as her maid was discovering.

Like a Black Widow hypnotically eyeing her prey before devouring the meal, Mistress Jennifer stopped and looked through her freshly-spun web deep into the eyes, of her helpless maid. Cheri, caught in the rope web and the web ecstasy, both spun by her Mistress, looked deep into her eyes felt as though she was being devoured by the eyes of the lady she worshipped. As she stared into her eyes, she suddenly realized why she so loved this lady, why she was there, and the answers became immediately apparent. Not a word needed to be exchanged between them, they each understood the other perfectly, this spider woman and her fly.

--Compiled by Mistress Michelle and slave english

Mistress Karla

Rare photo of Mistress Karla ( Left ) and Mistress Mara Kelso ( Right )
a slave's story

Mistresses Mara and Karla, of Phoenix, kindly allowed me to share the experience of my degradation at their hands with all Fantasy Register readers. What follows is a true story.

I travel to Phoenix regularly and after a long flight, meetings and work-related pressures I desperately need a little bondage-style relaxation. On my last trip I decided to skip the local ads and call a fantastic Dominatrix I had met and had had several sessions with in Los Angeles; Mistress Mara Kelso. After three successful years in L.A. Mara had decided to return to her home town of Phoenix. I dug out the number she sent to me after she left California and dialed. I remembered Mara to be one of the most discrete, intelligent, creative and classiest women in the scene. Her slaves fly in from all over the country and parts of Europe to see her and still she is selective.

Luckily, Mara agreed to see me. I expected to be taken to her private dungeon, but instead the Mistress drove me, tied, gagged and blindfolded, in the back of her car, over to a friend's house. I was unaware of it at the time, but I was finally about to meet a woman I had long dreamed of; Mistress Karla.

I was pushed to my knees as we entered the front door, and then felt the pressure of stocking feet on my back.

One of my lovely tormentors was using me for a footstool. I heard faint conversation between the two women and soon realized that they were discussing what they planned to do to me. Still blindfolded, I could see nothing. The feet that had been resting on my back began to move. Being, among other things, a foot fetishist I instinctively reached out to touch them. Immediately I felt a sharp kick to my side.

"So he likes feet does he? How do you like the feel of THAT foot?" It was Mistress Karla speaking, and it had been her stilleto-heeled boot I had just felt in my ribs.

My heart began to pound.

The gag in my mouth seemed to be getting tighter and I wanted desperately to see where I was. My confusion added to the powerless sensations that were starting to engulf me. I tried to straighten up but felt the gentle, firm force of a stocking foot on the back of my neck. It pinned my face to the floor. I heard Mistress Mara laughing, that familiar, beautiful, melodious sound; taunting and sensual. My session was beginning.

It was at this point that my sense of time became distorted. I do not know how long I knelt there. It could have been a few minutes, or half an hour. The featherlight touch of Mistress Mara's foot at the back of my neck held me captive, and for her I would have stayed huddled on the ground forever.

I was roused from this reverie by the sound of a thick, heavy collar being snapped around my neck and the weight of a chain being attached to it. I felt a tug on the collar and I bagan to crawl. After being dragged by the neck for what seemed to be a considerable length of time I heard another door slam behind me. The blindfold was ripped from my face and at last I was allowed to gaze at the beautiful women who had enslaved me.

Mistress Karla, petite and slender, with the tight little body and delicate appearance of a sixteen year old girl, was in complete contrast to the stern voice I had heard earlier. But it was readily apparent that she ruled with an iron hand.

She's a very aloof and commanding, no-nonsense dominant, extremely skilled with the rope and the whip.

Mistress Mara looked elegant, attired in a black leather corset and matching spike-heeled boots. She seemed to me as she always has; young, deceptively innocent looking, pretty and alluring. Her abilities in the fine art of erotic, psychological torture are unsurpassed, as I knew from previous sessions. The sight of these two imfamous women in the same room was overwhelming. Mara, with her devastating, hypnotic power and Karla, wielding a steely control, make a formidable pair.

The room was cool and painted black, with one side completely mirrored. Every conceivable type of bondage equipment dangled from the walls and ceiling, with a huge, cross-shaped rack dominating one area of the room. I tried to speak, but the gag was still firmly in place.

Mara must have reached the dungeon before us. She emerged from a shadowy corner, quietly set down the wine glass she had been sipping from and joined Karla, who stood looming above me. In unison they reached down, grabbed me under my arms, half lifting, half dragging me to the cross-shaped rack on the wall. I began to struggle, not sure that this turn of events was exactly what I wanted. A quick knee jab to my groin put an end to my resistance and I found myself being strapped onto the cross with my arms outstretched and my feet bound tightly together. Just as I was beginning to .accept my situation and anticipate, with some excitement, whatever was to follow, Mistresses Karla and Mara turned and walked away.

"Don't leave me here like this!," I tried to scream through the gag. "Please don't leave!" But they were gone. I waited for what seemed an eternity.

The door to the dungeon finally opened. It was Mistress Mara. A wicked smile played across her lips as she surveyed me in my helpless position. Slowly she unbuttoned my shirt and began caressing my nipples.

Gradually her touch took on a more threatenting quality.

Instead of fingertips I felt nails. Each time my throbbing cock became erect her hand lashed out and slapped it limp again.

"I'll let you know when you have permission to have an erection," she seethed.

"In the meantime I suggest you exert a little more control over yourself." She was diabolical. The sight and fragrance of her body was inescapably arousing and Mara knew my needs so intimately that it was effortless for her to bring me to the peak again and again, only to punish me for it. She used every device within reach and she trained me like a pet dog. Finally she tired of this game and decided to let me down.

When the straps that had secured me to the cross were loosened I collapsed to the floor, exhausted from the physical strain of the position I had been kept in and totally spent from the ordeal of repeated arousals.

"You obviously need a rest, slave." Her voice, both soothing and mocking, beckoned me. "Come crawl up on the bed."

I dragged myself towards her and threw myself onto the leather, padded structure she had been referring to. Mara rolled me onto my stomach, stripped off my pants and secured my arms in a comfortable bondage position alongside my body. This "bed" was equipped with hospital-type restraints at strategic places. Mistress Mara walked across to the far corner of the room, sat down in a large throne-shaped wicker chair and took a sip of her wine. She picked up the receiver of the telephone next to the chair and pushed a button.

"He's ready for you, Karla."

My blood ran cold. Now it was to be Mistress Karla's turn to do whatever she wanted with me, and in full view of another woman. I shivered in anticipation. I heard light footsteps and the door open, then slam shut behind her. I watched her approach in the mirrored wall across from me. She looked ravishing in her gold-laced, black corset and shiny black stilleto-heeled shoes.

She clenched a huge dildo in her right hand. I wanted to protest but the gag was still in my mouth. I shook my head vigorously and looked

--Compiled by Mistress Michelle and slave english

Mistress Kellie Everts

Dominant Mystique Newspaper
Vol. 8, No. 9, 1987
(This issue of Dominant Mystique Newspaper featured Mistress Mir in the centerfold, a colunm by Kellie Everts and D. N. Vera )
Also see the page [ Kellie Everts ]
Let's Play Torture by Mistress Kellie Everts 1987

I get such a kick out of teasing, tormenting and torturing my male slave! I love those balls and hard-ons which I like to slap, beat, stab and torment. I am a real bitch, second generation and still perfecting the craft of bitchdom. They say I am hard, or the nicest thing to say about me is that I'm impossible! I take that as a compliment. I am tough and like to show it. Just let some guy get smart with me!

When I get my hands on some horny cock I will strap him down, blindfold him and watch him sweat. I like to threaten. I have a big mouth. I have an answer for everything. I get him into chains and shackles and then work him over, while he squirms and begs to leave. I give him more and more. When the going gets too rough, I pretend I'll let him suck my tits... Boy, do I love to humiliate! Men are just kids to me. I scold, chastize, spank their silly asses. I rip their pants down and punch and strike with all kinds of tools. I like to get him both ways, front and back. Ball torture is good. Ass torture is fine, cock torture is wonderful. Let the little worm squirm under me, the big tough and belligerent female. I like men where they're little or no bigger than me; then it's easy to push them around. But give me a big guy and it's a challenge to make a wimp out of him. I like to tackle the big ones, saying, "The bigger they are, the harder they'll bawl." Ha!

"Come here, you big ape and let me humiliate you!" I like to take those macho men who push little people around and cut them down to size. Men who take advantage of their positions at work. Men who treat women as sluts or prostitutes. Men who think they're superior to women or other men because of their delusions of grandeur.

Those are the kinds I like best to work over. But they do not submit willingly. I have to attack them in public and make fools of them in front of their friends.

Slaves are just an outlet for my hostility, sadism and revenge. They come willingly because they like a woman like me, one who is aggressive and who does not pull any punches. One who takes no gaff. One who is not afraid to say the truth to anyone, anytime. I have my good side, too. But I've learned to hide it well! I prefer showing my bad side to horny masochists and cocky chauvinists!

Being a cunt is a business with me. But I get pleasure out of my business. I like to strike terror into my slaves when they don't know what I'll do next because they can't control me, no matter how much they pay me! No, I do what I want, even though I follow their plan, part of the way. I have men who want me for every part of my body and personality. They try to look and touch if I let them. But touches are few and far between. A slave is lucky if I le t him touch, kiss and suck my legs, even luckier if I allow him to worship my asshole with tongue-on devotion. So many men want to drink my piss and even taste my shit! But I would love to give it to those big shots who think they are superior to women! Some day I'll get one of these guys alone and physically force him to drink and eat it!

I get a slave and make him repeat and recite my litany of devotion: "You are the Supreme Goddess. I am loyal, devoted to you as my superior. You are my Commander. Every wish is my command, my pleasure is just to do what you want, obey and be near you. Doing whatever you wish, etc." I make them repeat dozens of things like this, all the while egging them on with visions of my gorgeous body, pussy and tits.

When slaves see my hairy pussy, they salivate and groan. They are ready to cream their pants when I move my luscious body in different motions and positions. I am ,so fluid, so graceful and strong at the same time. They know they can never really have me and that puts them into spasms of aching, longing agonies of desire.

"Are you going to do what I tell you, or do I have to work you over some more? Just as well, because I love to hit you. It releases my tensions."

When I come home at night after a hard day shopping or working or meeting people, I am frustrated. So I take my tensions out on you! You hve to take it because you love me and you can't stop me. Anything is better than my leaving you.

If I were married and my husband asked me for sex, I would beat him up. To me sex is no fun unless there's a bit of violence to it, with me the aggressor, of course. I like to demand sex when the man is too tired, or too lazy or too preoccupied. Especially when he's watching sports. Just let him say no and I go into action. He will be real sorry he ever said no to me. His black and blue marks will show it.

"You horny pecker! You're no good for anything! What good are you? You're just a wimpy mamma's boy, and I'm your mamma You need discipline. You need to be whipped into shape. You need to be told what to do. You need to be controlled and directed. You are emotionally dependent on me, tied to my apron strings - you would die without me!

"You need a strong woman to make you walk the straight and harrow, or else you`d be drinking and wasting time and chasmg after whores. You'd be a real whoremaster if I didn't control you, that is. If you had We looks and money to be one. Yes, you need me to control you, to make sure you do everything right. Think right, work, get enough sleep, do contructive things. Then I realize it is best to attack between vour legs. Good old cock'n'ball torture, the old nut squeeze. First I think about what I should do. I meditate on the best course of action. And then, I go for it! "Whip that cock and balls out!

If you do. you will pay for it! I will make life hard for you by non-stop yellmg and screaming, hitting and mental torture. I will deprive you of privileges! Do you obey my every command? I am your Commander, your Superior Officer your Mother, your Queen!! Do you dare disobey I me? Do you hear me? Well, answer me! "


"Be respectful when you answer me! You owe me everything. I made a man out of you! If it weren't for me, you'd be a bum on skid row! Dont cry, you sissy wimp! Stop that sniffling! Why is your nose running? Look at me!, I am the brains and the brawn behind this partnership. Just listen to me and all will go well. I'm the leader, you just follow."

"Try to suck my ass while I beat your cock! I love to sit on your horny face! Look at the fine hole, smell it and rim me, you horny prick."

"I like to get you into bondage and crack that whip over you! You can hear it snap as I expertly come down on you. But even though it hurts, you like it. You like feeling restrained, overpowered and dominated by I me. You beg for more when I stop."

My slave likes every bit of my body. He loves my tits and ass, my legs and feet and all in between. He. is horny and hungry to a look, smell, touch and taste. How he would I like to suck my whole body from head to toe - what a mamma's boy! He likes to submit, to I lower himself underneath me and keep sucking till the cows come home. But I am a ( teaser, not a pleaser. I show him my bush when he's tied and I shackled, my asshole gets opened where he can't see it. He strains to look but the ropes hold him back. He tries to get his nose close. But I put a gag over him, or a thick whip between his teeth. All the guy can do is go home, think about me and masturbate if he wants to get off. But I love my horny masochists. They are my hobby.

I have so many talents and most of my talents center around driving men wild. Yes, making men horny is my game. But I know how to control them. They can't get anywhere unless I let them. No man gets over on me. I am a two-fisted dominant woman. I don't play around. I really punch to knock out and squeeze till they go unconscious if they give me trouble.

"Get your tongue out, you mamma's boy! Look-at those big, juicy, succulent jugs! Mother's milk is the best milk!"

"But can you take mother's discipline? I am a slave driver and I hit you where it hurts, head to toe, but cock and bails get special attention! But look what you get out I of it - undivided attention from succulent mom!"

Sometimes I whip my tits out and pop them in your mouth when your hands are ,j tied down. But only for seconds. I pop them in and out of your mouth. while you are straining to suck. I'm good for any role except the submissive one. I'm always the boss. There is a tender side to me, but you will never see it!

" That's reserved for God! You get the fist! What good is a slave? To pummel and hit, to tell what to do. A slave without discipline is like a hen without eggs. A rooster without a comb. And who will he get his discipline from? None is as good as that from a hard and tough female boss. Women are worse than men when it comes to being tough, if they are really dominant women, because they don't have the horny weakness men have."

My final words to you are: Submit and find your happiness, your purpose in serving your superior woman.

Write to me and tell me how horny you are to serve me, to love with devotion and complete submission. I have many tools to teach you how to submit and obey your Queen. Tell me your horny dreams and fantasies and what you'd do if I permitted you to serve me, your Queen. Join the FetishCorps now by buying my products.

Also see the page [ Kellie Everts ]


Jump to: Main PageMicropediaMacropediaIconsTime LineHistoryLife LessonsLinksHelp
What links hereReferences and SourceseMail The Wiki StaffContact Info