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The Other World Kingdom is an actual place located in a countryside Palatial Estate, formerly the ancestral  residence of a line of Barons, two hours outside Prague in the Czech Republic.  It is truly a fantasy realm as every inch inside its walls has been utilized to manifest the ultimate experience in female domination of male slaves.   


Everything you see on their website is real and can be found on the premises including the Guardesses.  I know because I visited OWK six times for the annual celebrations which were elaborate multi-day events attended by people from all over the globe.  Sadly, they no longer host these truly fantastic occasions.


I was one of the first to be recognized as a Sublime Lady of OWK which is a title bestowed personally by Queen Patricia to females who exhibit their ownership of at least one male slave in a manner to the Queen’s satisfaction.


I had the privilege of visiting OWK six times.  Below is an account of the first time...

Sublime lady of owk
one of my photoshoots at owk


By Simone Justice, Sublime Lady of OWK

My first experience of OWK was reading their original book.  I remember excitedly tearing off the brown paper right there on a Manhattan street as soon as my personal slave handed it to me when it arrived from Czech.  He had ordered it after seeing their ads appear in fetish magazines.  


We could not believe how elaborate the vision and details were of a fantasy FemDom realm.  We were yelling about how amazing it was as we leafed through the pages.  It was a glossy hardcover coffee table book filled with quality color photographs of women dominating men in fabulous palace rooms and on the grounds of an estate and in a real dungeon.  The women were gorgeous and unbelievably sexy dressed in uniforms of black boots, black leather shorts and a black leather jacket bearing the OWK coat of arms.   My favorite of the Queen’s Guard was a dark haired beauty named Sarka.  


The extensive text was a manifesto outlining the laws and structure of the realm ruled by a Queen and dedicated to the proviso “Women Over Men”.  It was all so fantastic we were certain it could not be real, and the repeated claims that it was real only further convinced us that it must be all staged for the book.  I was sure that the women were models hired for the shoots and that this estate must be the same room redecorated to make it seem like several rooms and it was just rented for the day.


I decided to find out for myself.  The book and ads in fetish magazines claimed that it was possible to visit OWK during Celebrations, so right then and there on the street, book in hand, I told my slave we were going to the next celebration. 


I spent the rest of the day reading it and marveling at the amount of detailed effort put into the book.  I remember thinking if this place is real and built by whoever did this book it will be mind blowing.


A few weeks later when I was back in Los Angeles talking to my slave on the phone he said it wasn’t going to happen, we weren’t going because nobody had answered his repeated emails.  He was sure it was all fake after all.


We had both asked everybody we knew in the BDSM community if anyone had ever been there and we couldn’t find a single person.  And my slave was one of the most prominent members of the BDSM business world so he knew everyone.  I had put out a question on the board I hosted on Max Fisch asking for any info.  We had both searched on the internet for info and had found only discouraging accounts of men trying to get there and failing.  I read one about a guy who actually flew over there from the U.S. and when nobody picked him up at the airport he just got on the next flight back. Plus there were wild rumors flying about it being owned by the Russian Mafia and that it was dangerous to go there.


Admittedly the photos portrayed an extreme version of FemDom with hardcore play.  However, I knew from participating in and watching photo and video shoots that sometimes the blood was faked and it was all show for the camera.  


I hoped it would be real and as intense as the book and website purported.  The question I have answered in almost every interview I ever did was some version of “why are you a dominatrix?” and my answers were something like “Because I don’t want to look back on my life and regret not exploring my fantasies”.  OWK represented the chance to live out the most extreme hardcore fantasies of severe play and Mistress/slave roleplay that I had ever imagined.  And fortunately I had a personal slave who was up to the task mentally and physically to go as deep and severe as I wanted.  I was not going to miss out on that!  


I told my slave to keep trying.  I was determined to get there , if it existed we were going.  As the date approached he still hadn’t heard back and finally he declared failure.


I snapped at him to give me the email address and so I could write them myself.  I got an instant reply.  It read “Yes, Mistress Simone we know you and would be honored to host you”.  That really surprised me but was so much fun to tease my slave about - how he had tried for months and got nothing while I was instantly serviced.  I passed it off to my slave to complete the plans. 


Then OWK asked me for some of the signed magazines and photos I offered on my website, which I gladly shipped off while marveling at how small the BDSM world was that they actually knew me over there.  At least I was now certain that somebody involved was a sincere member of the BDSM community.  And I was super excited because we were going there!


When our flight arrived in the small Czech airport we waited next to our cart piled high with luggage.  Back then you could take as much luggage as you were willing to pay for and I had stuffed my enormous luggage (I mean it was gigantic, they don’t make anything like that now) with as many elaborate fetish outfits as I could jam in there.  Plus toys. 


Supposedly a car was picking us up.  We waited for a long time.  Of course, I had immediately told my slave to call them when nobody was there, but he had said he didn’t have a phone number.  So we waited a couple hours.  Finally I declared we had waited long enough, we were going to just get a car and drive there ourselves even though it was a couple hours out in the countryside.  He didn’t have the address. Let me repeat that - we were going to a possibly nonexistent and likely scam in Eastern Europe where we did not speak the language after reading several bizarre accounts of failure to get there and he did not obtain the address!! 


We took a taxi into Prague so we could get on the computer (no internet on phones back then) and write them that we had arrived and ask to be picked up in the morning.  Well.  The taxi driver informed us that there was a huge conference in town and all the hotels were booked.   We drove to many hotels where my slave begged for a room.  Finally we got one but only for one night.  It was a nice hotel and I ordered room service right away, a hamburger, fries and milkshake.  I ended up not eating because it was the worst hamburger, the worst fries, and the worst milkshake in the world.  Inedible.


Then I went down to the lobby and wrote OWK, they were apologetic and assured me that a car would pick us up at the hotel in the morning. 


I have always been an early riser and day person so I woke before my slave, dressed and went to the lobby to tend to emails.  In the swanky lounge there was a silver coffeepot and real china so I poured a cup.  They don’t put milk in coffee over there (except Lattes) but I happy to have a nice hot coffee.  It was so horrid that it is the only coffee I have ever spit out in my life.  It was extremely bitter, did not even taste like coffee and had a sludgy consistency.  So when my slave showed up I warned him not to drink it.  He laughed and scoffed about how bad could it be.  So as punishment for not believing me, I told him if he went ahead after my warning and tried it I would force him to drink the entire cup.  He bopped over to the buffet and poured himself a cup while I laid in waiting already savoring my-soon-to be vindication.  I can vividly recall watching him take that first sip and the look of fear pass over his face when he realized what he was in for.  I almost relented when he was literally choking it down and begging for mercy but it was too much fun and since he is a true masochist and real slave, I knew on some level he was turned on.


As we stood waiting out front of the hotel, a tiny white car blasting grating heavy metal music swooped through the roundabout, sharply stopped in front of us.  Out jumped a cute young boy dressed in black khakis and a white polo with a small OWK crest printed on the chest.


He shoved our luggage in the trunk and back seat, nodding and smiling then gestured for us to get in.  My slave was crammed in the back seat while I rode alongside our driver.  The driver clearly did not speak English but I tried some subtle non-verbal domination maneuvers on him to test whether he was submissive.  He was not.  So, me and my slave speculated as to whether our destination was going to feel authentic or be disappointingly staffed by vanilla employees.  


We drove way out into the green rolling hills for two hours, then he pulled off on a small exit and we passed through a cluster of buildings which we later found out was the local village.   Then more country road past farms and quaint cottages, finally up to a very tall dark wooden wall with giant doors.  Our driver popped out and opened the doors then drove in to a small parking area.  This was clearly an actual palatial estate!  


Directly off the loose stone parking lot was a small carriage house turned into a gift store and as we walked there we saw through the inner gate to a courtyard surrounded by large buildings including a palace.  Our minds were officially blown!!


First order of business was registering.  I presented my lovely OWK passport complete with the affixed passport photo I had sent in.  It was printed on handmade linen paper and sealed in red wax with the official Royal Seal of Queen Patricia.  I took it as a good sign when it arrived as I used to hand write and perfume all my postal domination on cream Crane cards with red trim in red-lined envelopes that I sealed with an “S” stamped in red wax.  The little touches and depth of detail in every aspect of OWK was truly a genius work of art.

The men working the store wore the same uniform as our driver with the addition of black leather collars.  Our driver quickly pulled out of his pocket and donned his collar as well.   I recalled that one of the laws of OWK was “all male creatures must wear collars”.  That was when I knew.  OWK was real.  Such a thrill! 


Immediately I took out the collar I had stowed in my purse and directed my slave to kneel on the white tile floor in front of the register counter to be collared.  I could tell by their reactions that the other staff were actual submissives.


Second order of business was changing money.  Now mind you, we had already changed our money into Czech currency at the hotel.  We now had to change our already confusing Czech currency into Doms.  Doms are the official currency of OWK featuring a drawing of a woman dominating a man that comes in two denominations of 1 and 5 Doms (maybe there was a 10? I didn’t handle the money so I’m not sure).  Throughout the visit, my slave kept throwing his hands up and stating he had no absolutely no idea what he was are paying for anything here! Quite clever and amusing from a domination point of view.


(Writing this account made me laugh to tears, so I just now called him and he got frustrated all over again about not knowing the actual worth of a Dom.  Hilarious.)


That store was one of the best I have ever seen in the world.  It was small but it stocked amazing items I never saw anywhere else.   Of course it had OWK books and videos, but it also had fetish clothes and toys.  Plus you could buy the metallic leather Guardess uniforms that came in both silver and gold including matching boots! (but not the black ones those were reserved only for the Queen’s Guard).  On that trip I got a pair of black latex thigh high lace-up boots.  I mean real lace-up, not with hooks but with metal rings so you have to pass the long laces through every single ring.  Later they expanded the store with a big back room full of their own line of logo toys.  On my last trip there they sold off the last few items before shutting it down.  Sigh.


After checking in at the shop, we walked through the inner gate down a paved path to the Long House.  From the collaring forward I expected my slave to be on his best behavior and follow all my strict protocols such as walking two steps behind me on my right side. But at OWK I added on even more protocols.  I told him to walk in the dirt because I knew that another law of OWK was “all paths are forbidden to male creatures”.


We were already having an amazing scene and it was just the beginning our visit.  


The rooms at OWK are primarily in the Long House.  I can’t be sure what aspects were present that first visit and which were on subsequent visits as every time I went there they had made major improvements to the grounds inside and out.  Club Wanda was the nightclub, which was open every night with a full bar and play stations available until the last Mistress decided to leave.  And the pub where all the meals were served was definitely there.  Other aspects I remember of the Long House include a lap pool, billiards, fireplace, and the Bathory dungeon, which could be rented for private play and had an adjacent luxury suite.  And of course there were the many playstations. One of my favorite playstations was directly inside the entrance.  It was a real boot shine station like you would find in a subway or corporate building lobby with some added SM details.


Our room was tiny but efficiently decorated with Ikea-type furniture, twin beds (thoughtful touch given the likelihood of professionals frequenting the accommodations), nightstands, our own bathroom and every room I ever had included a metal cage as well as an umbrella stand filled with canes. It was like an SM dorm room. 


On a subsequent visit I was given the large suite over the gift shop (which was the building where the Guardesses and staff males lived) that room had a cross and other play furniture in it and seated several people for a little party I held there.  And I loved that it had a balcony too.  The Queen and her personals lived in the Palace and the Princess was sometimes there too.


I had my slave unpack while I studied the itinerary and changed into full Dominatrix gear.  All male creatures must wear at least underwear and a collar and many would wear only that depending on the weather.


Shortly after arrival we were taken on a small group tour of the grounds by Head Guardess Madame Clara, who spoke English.  


Unbelievable!  There were the three buildings I already mentioned, Gift Shop, Long House and the Palace. Plus a real Stable that had stalls and straw beds, which was where the State Slaves were kept.  Behind the stable was a circular racetrack for human pony races that had a pond and fountain in the middle and a grandstand for the Mistresses to watch the races.  There was also a large metal outdoor dog kennel where you could keep your slave, should you choose.  


One of my favorite aspects was the electricity generator.  It was a wheel such as you might have seen in images of third world countries pulled by oxen to power a well.  But of course this was pushed by male creatures who would walk in a circle.  You could see when they were successful at generating electricity because a light bulb on the stable lit up.


At each location there were State Slaves demonstrating as Madame Clara explained the facilities so it was a great show.  State Slaves were either actual personal slaves to the Queen or men who attended the celebration unaccompanied by a Mistress.  They wore black T-shirts with giant white dots where a number was written with a sharpie.  


Later I found out that these numbers were not random, the first few were issued and held by the Queen’s personal slaves.  With Number One being assigned to her first and most loyal State Slave osel, which means donkey in Czech.  They were available to any Mistress to request, which I did on occasion. 


Next to the wheel there was an outdoor play area on a stage where you could play anytime.  I made sure to skip some of the festivities every visit and do a few hours playing outside there.  More on that later.


We were only shown two parts of the Palace as the rest were private areas for the Queen.  The Throne Room on the second floor was accessed by a grand staircase and had a real theatrical stage at one end and rows of elegant seating and coffee tables.  Sometimes the Queen sat on a small throne at the other end from the stage surrounded by the Guardesses and State Slaves who sat on the floor.  Sometimes the official royal throne was in place, which was on top of a series of stairs.  Off of the Throne Room there was the Banquet Room and a Billiard Room as well as bathrooms and a lounge area.  


In later years there was a dungeon up inside the palace tower, which could also be rented for private scenes and where the Queen’s art collection and toy collection were displayed.


The tour ended on the ground level past the formal entrance attended by white wigged footmen slaves through a hallway with a trap door leading down to the underground dungeon.  It was a converted stone wine cellar with actual jail cells installed!


We were completely awestruck.  I don’t think there has ever been a more fantastic place to play in the world than OWK.  Nothing else I have seen has ever come close to that level.


Well, the grounds were real but I was still doubtful that the Guardesses featured in the book would actually be there.  Until I saw her.  Sarka.  In person.  I turned to my slave and had a minor freak out moment saying something like “there she is, she is here, it’s Sarka, she is here”.  On the second day I had my slave buy me a new OWK book and find a sharpie then I went up to Sarka and asked her to sign it.  She was so sweet and nodded politely while I tried to talk to her and then she said “no English, sorry, no English” through a big smile.  


Since then she has learned to speak English very well and we have become friends.  She remains, in my opinion, as one of the most beautiful Dominatrices in the world and of course is very skilled.  


She did tell me the truth years later, that I was correct in thinking that some of the first Guardesses were hired as models.  She was asked by a photographer if she would be willing to pose for SM photos and she agreed having no idea what lay in store for her.  But it was meant to be.  On that shoot she discovered that she loved dominating men and has never looked back.


After the tour we went to the pub for some food.  I was born, raised and have always resided in California so my taste in food tends toward either Mexican or California Cuisine.  The Eastern European cuisine is not my favorite.  It seemed like every meal over there was a huge hunk of meat swimming in gravy with potatoes and perhaps a scant few pieces of vegetable (same deal when I went to Germany).  Not my thing.  If available, the chicken was always gone by the time we got there.  I did enjoy the deep fried fritters though.  Fortunately for me the chef Klaus was a fan of mine and he routinely came out from the kitchen when I arrived to prepare something special just for me. 


That first lunch we got to eat outside, which was only possible when weather permitted, which wasn’t often.  Most of the time we ate in the pub.  There were chairs for the ladies and tiny stools for the men as another OWK law was “Sitting on chairs is forbidden to male creatures”.  


I loved to sit in that pub.  I would introduce myself to people and invite them to sit at our table until it was full of interesting strangers and old friends.  It was a unique opportunity to learn about BDSM culture around the world.

At lunch we finally saw our first Americans.  To my recollection Irene Boss and Mistress Troy were the only others from the U.S. at that celebration.  


I was excited when I thought I spotted Troy sitting there because she was the most elusive dominatrix in the United States!  At that time, I traveled monthly to New York to session there and knew, met or at least had spotted at events all the major New York Dommes.  


In those days, all the dominatrices in New York went out often and played publicly which led to some pretty intense drama (I’ll save those stories for another time).  All the NY dominatrices knew each other.  But nobody ever saw Troy.  She rarely attended events and only if she was masked, she did not play at Hellfire or anywhere in public, she did not even go to the exclusive private parties, and she purposely avoided the entire social scene.  To this day people are incredulous that I actually know her.  


I immediately walked over to introduce myself and she invited me to join her for lunch for which I am so grateful because she is an amazing woman and an awesome dominatrix.  


I also met Irene Boss on that trip but as she always travels with an entourage of slaves I did not get as much time with her.  However, we did meet up in Prague to socialize after the celebration.  She is just as intimidating in person as you would think as she has a great commanding voice.  I love listening to her direct slaves.


Each day at OWK was jam packed with events.  I won’t try to recount every moment but here are a few of my favorite memories.


*Gathering in the courtyard to watch real fireworks on the first night to kick off the celebration.


*Watching Irene Boss’s slave lie down at the palace entrance to serve as a welcome mat for all the ladies as they filed in.  I can’t remember but his name was either rug or mat.


*The Bullwhip Contest held in Club Wanda.  A slave was bent over with a lit candle clenched in between his butt cheeks.  Ladies were invited to extinguish the candle with a long bullwhip and timed for up to three minutes.  I don’t think anyone had put it out.  It was dark in there and the whip was really long.  But I thought I would give it a try.  So I got up, played with the whip for a second to get a feel for it and threw.  Somehow I succeeded on the first try, and won the contest with a time of 21 seconds.  It was the first of my OWK awards - all of which I had framed and proudly hung in my dungeons.


*Complaining with all the other Mistresses that it wasn’t fair that the Guardesses competed in all the events because they had been able to practice with the toys and they always won!!  This happened at every celebration thereafter as well.


*My utter delight when I stepped out of the Long House to walk across the courtyard and a slave posted there rang a loud bell then realizing that the bell summoned a slave drawing a pony cart complete with a horse whip.


*Skipping the day’s events for a few hours to take advantage of the outdoor play area by giving my slave a proper whipping, meaning a long warm-up carefully graduating floggers to a single tail in order to get and keep him high off the sensation. I remember well the loud crack of my whip echoing off the Palace wall while everyone else was off at some competition.  Then hearing laughter and turning to see Sarka and a few other Guardesses who had been curious about the source of the sound.


*Entering the World Billiards Championship then feeling the pressure when I was told that because I was a Sublime Lady, that I was representing OWK against the World!  Fortunately, I won. (09/01 visit)


*Yelling at my slave from the audience as he sat there thinking he won the best slave contest for me but he had missed licking a tiny bit of mustard off the Guardess Christine’s boot! Argh!


*And of course, one of my all time favorite scenes was when I put my slave on trial at the official court presided over by Judge Lady Mona of Sweden...  


As soon as I read about the trial on the schedule I decided to see if I could get my slave to appear before the judge.  So I met with Lady Mona to discuss it, she agreed to try the case and we planned his punishment.  


On the night of the trial we sat in the Throne Room as we had every night socializing, drinking champagne and snacking from the buffet before the evening program.  Suddenly, the entire Queen’s Guard and Lady Mona stomped right up to us and to my slave’s astonishment he was accused of a crime and immediately arrested by the Guardesses while I sat calmly watching.  They shackled then dragged him off and tossed him in one of the jail cells in the underground dungeon to await trial.  They spoke to him harshly (in Czech) while locking him in a cell next to another prisoner and then turned off the lights when they left.  He says it was really cold down there and he sat in the dark for a moment taking in the experience and then exclaimed “this is cool!”  The other prisoner who did not speak English well replied “yes, and no blanket”.


That guy had been arrested upon his arrival, was made to hand over his wallet and passport then strip naked and had been in jail since.  My slave said they were both worried about what was going to happen.


My slave was tried last that night. After others had been brought out, strapped in a kneeling stockade before all and then accused of their crimes by Lady Mona.  She then questioned the slaves, obtained confessions and sentenced them with a strike of her gavel to discipline to be carried out immediately by either their owner or more often one of the Guardesses.  My slave was truly embarrassed when Lady Mona gave a detailed account of his crime.


This is what he did.  I had kept him in chastity for some time prior to the trip locked securely in the CB-2000, a strong lucite device which allowed for urination, cleansing, and was completely undetectable under clothing so it could be worn for extended periods.  The device comes with a few red plastic locks bearing unique serial numbers that had to be broken to open.  Usually I just used a tiny metal lock. But out of kindness, I had switched to the plastic lock so my slave could go through airport security without humiliation.  When we arrived in Amsterdam, I was tired and didn’t bother to change back to the metal lock.  Well, you can guess what he did during the night, which I discovered early the next morning when I saw that the plastic lock was broken.  As I often do, I calmly told him that he would be punished later and then let him worry.


The crowd actually gasped in horror when they understood his crime.  It was quite amusing.  And my slave had to confess and repent.  He was sentenced to a two-part punishment that I had devised for him.  


First, he had to crawl around the entire Throne Room and present his face to be slapped by each Mistress who chose to do so and in whatever manner they felt satisfactory.  There were maybe 30 dominant ladies there and some of them were pretty intense.  I watched as each one gave him their own style of face slap, some were full force while others were light taps, it was very humiliating and everyone laughed a lot and clearly enjoyed his punishment.  Afterward his face was puffy, red and welted.


Then came the hardcore part.  He was ordered to kneel outside the Throne Room exit at the end of the evening program.  He was there for any lady to spit on, if they pleased.  I stood across the lounge socializing and watching over him. 


He kneeled with hands clasped behind his back, his reddened face held up and eyes downcast.  Many ladies took advantage of the opportunity.  It was intense.  He had spittle dripping off his face as one after the other walked up and spit on him.  I waited until it seemed every Mistress who wanted to, had taken their turn on him, then walked over.  Just then, a group of three ladies approached and I stopped a few feet away.  


After they spit on him he turned to me and cried out “she did it twice” while pointing at a lovely lady.  I replied that she was welcome to spit on him as many times as she liked and then I to got to watch the newly angered three ladies all go at him again a few more times.  Honestly, he was so covered in spit I was too disgusted to look at him.  I had never before or since seen anyone in that condition.  I asked the Queen if she would dispatch a state slave to fetch a hand towel so he could wipe it off, which she did, and then I let him go to the bathroom to wash up. 


Over the years visiting OWK, I met and made friends with so many great people from all over the globe.  Most were couples there on vacation together.  The rest were pros like myself with clients, personals or lovers.  I got to know some of them, visited them in their own countries and some of them visited me here.  


I remain close friends with Lady Mona and had some amazing times at her fantastic dungeon in the Swedish countryside - Secret House (I am sworn to secrecy about it and will never share the details). I also kept in touch with the two OWK translator slaves from my first visit: Patrik and Richard whom I consider friends and have spent time with in Europe.  Years later, I was happy to share the experience of a celebration along with two of the Justice League; Mistress Gemini and Mistress Nicolette. 


It was truly an amazing experience every time I went and I will always be grateful and wistful for those days I spent at OWK.


Heartfelt thanks to the creator of that wonderland.  You are a visionary and you manifested a fantasy world that allowed so many people to live a dream.

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