My story isn't conventional. Nor is it something that is told on a day to day basis in this world of fear and repression. It is a story told with whip and chain. The paper made of flesh, the words prepared with blood. It is a soliloquy of bondage. Bondage of the mind, the flesh and the soul. It is a whisper in the corner of a club, a search on the internet, a pornographic video. It was not always this way.
I was born in the small city of Slatina, Romania on August 19th, 1948. My parents were bonded in marriage the same way most nobles are. Arranged marriages were still commonplace for aristocrats. My father was descended from Antiokh Dmitrievich Mariscova, one of the most prominent military men Romania has ever produced. My mother could claim rights to the throne, if such a thing still existed. My conception one of duty and obligation. I was raised by servants and tutors, my parents too busy to be bothered by a small child. My life was filled with routines and schedules. My talents many. Ballet, piano, harp, operatic singing. These things occupied my everyday reality.
Once I was talented enough to be entertaining to my parents and their long lists of acquaintances my parents began to take an interest in me. I was able to attend parties and dinners. Playing music, singing and even dancing. I began to learn from people who came from all parts of the world, expanding my repertoire to include their unique talents and languages.
My mother used to always say that I was too much like my namesake, not that she would know. She certainly never had the opportunity to meet her great-Great Grandmother. But the rumors have followed that side of my family from the day she became Queen. Romanian Gypsies were known to be fierce and passionate. A combination of wanton behavior and enough mysticism to make even a powerful man wary. She was said to be the most exquisitely beautiful woman in all of Romania. The stories abound of how she seduced King Alexander John Cuza, and how he flouted convention, and married her in spite of her common birth. Why she left her band is unknown, for rarely was a gypsy content to live in the same place for long. I have always been able to feel that Gypsy blood running in my veins, the need to move and explore. It was not the only thing I gained from the divine Queen Antonia.
My beauty was apparent from the day of my creation. I am not being bold or boastful in this declaration. Most of my life has been ruled by my allure, and it certainly contributed to the position that currently occupies my existence. This magnificence is what led me to leave my home of Romania in 1966, along with that Gypsy blood. I was not content to become the wife of a noble, living an existence of convenience. I wanted freedom. I was also not the submissive woman that my mother was.
And so I left home at the age of eighteen. New and fresh to the world, a lamb to the slaughter of extravagance and decadence. I had contacts in many countries. Children of other nobles around the world. One of these was Hans. A handsome young man, from a country that was still living with the sins of Adolph Hitler. His father was an Ambassador for Germany. Perhaps there is something in the blood of the Germans, that gives them the necessity for sadomasochism, they are certainly among the best in the world. He became my existence, my first Master, through him I learned about the world of bondage and domination.
It is impossible to explain the relationship that happens between Master and slave. Unfeasible to describe the love. Out of the question to speak of the nuances of this reality without experiencing it. The best that I can articulate is that this is not a relationship such as people think. It is not about fear, but trust. It is not about pain, but fulfillment. That is how a person knows when they have met a true slave or Master. They know because they do not conform to the stereotypes that society has associated with this world.
As with any experience, a person learns and grows, and the boundaries expand. When Hans and I were done learning from one another I moved on. I could sit and name all my lovers and I could certainly tell you what I learned from each one, but that is not the subject of this story, as titillating as it might be.
My true story starts in the city of Las Vegas, Nevada, in the United States. I arrived there on September 21st, 1971. It was a time in history full of sexual promise. Coming off of the waves of Woodstock, people feeling free to express themselves in any way they could imagine, and I entered this new life filled with the desire to find another part of myself. I became a dancer at the Las Vegas Hilton hotel, working my way quickly up the ladder to become a headline act, using the skills of my voice and my body. I danced, I sang, and soon I immersed myself in the leather community of Las Vegas. I quickly became admired in the community, as I said, few in the world were as masterful as the German people, Hans had taught me well. I began taking students, teaching them the true meaning of domination. Helping them discover a piece of themselves. I became one of the leaders in the Leather Community.
This is how I met Vlad Taltos, the one who would introduce me to a life such as I had never known. The one who has brought me where I am today. We were introduced by a mutual companion, Veronica Sinclair. Veronica was a bottom, and though I had trained her, she was a natural. She came to me one day after a show, asking if she could introduce me to someone. I loved the way her body was always held tall and erect, and yet she always showed the utmost respect by not looking you directly in the eye. I adored the way she would instantly assume a subservient position with a Master, even if it wasn't her own. It was an incredible turn on.
