August Vacation At The Other World Kingdom
Friday, August 4
This first entry in My diary comes two days before a week-long vacation abroad at an exotic resort hotel.
As usual, there’s the dreaded packing, but this time with a difference.
Aside from My normal resort clothing, I’ll need some special attire you won’t find women flaunting at a hotel in Cancun.
For instance: a pair of leather domina corsets and My newest knee-high, stiletto-heel boots.
And picture the commotion at customs when the inspector unzips My airline carryon and discovers a bullwhip, two paddles, a carcass beater, hood, ball gag, penis whip and a riding crop.
In contrast, hubby bob’s tiny traveling bag will be as empty as the crotch front of his underpants.
All bob needs at this hotel is his black leather thong plus a dog-collar and leash.
The collar is critical.
This hotel requires “Male Creatures” to wear collars 24 hours a day to signify their slave status.
I’m dragging off My reluctant subby hubby to The Other World Kingdom, whose motto is “Women Over Men”.
OWK is an exclusive Feminine monarchy located two hours north of Prague, in the Czech Republic. Queen Patricia rules supreme, commanding a court of fem dom Palace Guards and serf-like male slaves.
That’s right: “Women Over Men”.
Punishment over Pleasure.
By week’s end, I suspect, bob may need ass-replacement surgery.
Monday, August 7
I arrived in Prague after a tiring 22 hour journey across seven time zones.
The trip was a nightmare of Inedible airline food, tedious airport security inspections, bullying stewardesses and botched ticketing arrangements courtesy of My (former) travel agent.
Compounding the usual air travel harassments, hubby bob had managed to strain a major muscle in his leg yesterday. The untimely injury left him hobbled and even more useless than usual for his role as my personal slave at The Other World Kingdom.
Exiting Czech customs. I left gimpy bob with the luggage and went in search of our driver. I found him brandishing an OWK sign, alongside another OWK passenger. This “male creature” turned out to be an Englishman making his first visit to The OWK. He had signed on for the week as a State Slave and had paid a princely sum for the privilege.
It was raining and chilly as we drove about two hours south east of Prague, through a mountainous region, then down into a valley, then countryside that became more bucolic with each passing kilometer.
Inside the Skoda station wagon, conversation was at a minimum.
The Czech driver spoke no English.
And the Englishman, as OWK etiquette requires, could only speak after I had spoken to him first.
Finally we pulled up at an imposing white wall that seemed to stretch forever, with a massive wooden door.
I put on hubby bob’s dog collar; all “male creatures” must wear collars around their necks 24 hours a day.
The driver rang a clanging bell. Moments later the door creaked on its ancient hinges. With the driver dragging My luggage (and slave bob dragging his bad leg), I entered the mysterious and magical Other World Kingdom.
The reception area, a few steps inside the wall, served double duty, both as a front desk for incoming guests and as a bdsm store, offering hundreds of dvds featuring OWK Mistresses tormenting their slaves plus a dizzying assortment of tools for punishment and male humiliation. The first thing I did was purchase a stack of “Doms,” the official currency of The OWK and conveniently worth about one U.S. dollar. Then, while David, the manager, processed my credit card, I picked up a handbill titled “rules of behavior in The OWK.”
Among the rules were:
”All armchairs, chairs and benches are for Women only;
*Only Women may walk along the tiles in the courtyard;
“No feeding other Ladies’ slaves;
“No hard punishment of other Ladies’ slaves without their permission.”
But one item immediately caught my eye.
“If you are going to torture your slaves in your room after midnight, please limit their cries.”
This was definitely not your local Holiday Inn.
Despite the gloomy rain and chill, My mood brightened.