Finally meet My worm

The 90’s were hard for ebony mistresses. 

We were a rare breed in the BDSM scene. But as hard as things got, I had to work even harder to solid myself as Head Mistress of New York.

’97. The year I’ll never forget. One particular

admirer, a gifted illustrator, had sent me an E-mail asking me to visit him in Los Angelas. He’s a talented artist, but I turned him down.

It never stopped him from tributing me with his art work, though. Through emails, he had lavished me with piece after piece of   depictions of me in rubber.

For years, I’ve been his muse; that powerful feminine force that fueled his inspiration for his art works. 

One of the drawings is the one you’ll find on my website.  It’s a piece of me, pulling the strings of a little slave like a puppet; and I have this sadistically sweet smile on my face.

I felt like I was looking into a mirror when I first saw his depiction of me. 

Then comes 2016. Another year I’ll never forget. My particular, artistically gifted, admirer and I finally met for the first time in Los Angelas. It felt…good to finally see the face behind the talent. Seeing him is like meeting an old friend for the first time.

Yeah new camera

So I’ve got a new video camera.

Yep! That means I can shoot movies in a quality that looks almost as perfect as me. 

All you rubber lovers will get to see the light shining on its smooth, black texture. 

All you smoke addicts will see smoke lingering from the end of my cigarette in ultra high definition; almost as if you’re right here, on your knees, serving as my personal ash tray.

You’d love that, won’t you? I know all of you are eager to binge watch all of my clips on Clips4Sale right about now. 

Patience, slave. Patience.

I know I’ve been depriving you of fresh content for some time, and none of you can even function in your vanilla life without seeing me on your computer screens. So sad.

You want your fix, slave? Your drug—you need it. If only I could see all the puppy eyes of my slaves now. You can’t pay for that type of entertainment.

Oh! Almost forgot to add this extra, juicy bit of detail.

I also bought a microphone attachment. So even the sound of my voice will literally grab you by the ears, pull you out of your chair and right in front of me, on your knees.

One clip is all you need to get hooked. Poor thing.

And for those of you who loves to watch my slaves get a thorough thrashing—my specialty—I’ll have clips that’ll capture the sound of my whip whistling through the air before it snaps on the bruised, red skin of a hairless ape.

The lovely sound of my snapping whip. I cherish it.

I won’t be producing just clips. These will be modern day classics. Welcome to my Fetish Theater.

Vinyl Queen NYC Visting

Like a rare crescent moon sighting, she appears at The Parthenon to rule over her submissive with her glowing magnetism. Her time here is brief, and just when she had left her mark on her slave’s soul, she’s gone again. The Vinyl Queen has left the building.

Some sessions are like that: small, short-lived moments that leave an immortal memory that lives on. Few Mistresses can put their submissive in that subspace. Vinyl Queen is one of them.

Recently, I’ve learned that Vinyl Queen was coming back to New York City. She gave me a call and we planned out a date to have lunch together.

Excited? I definitely looked forward to it.

Over lunch, I got to see another side of the Vinyl Queen. I saw a side of her that brought back memories of the things I’ve done in the scene. The encounters, the long trips, the sessions—everything. I had stories that can last generations. 

So did she. 

At the end of it all, we both came to a conclusion: the kink scene has changed. In this ever-morphing world of BDSM, Vinyl Queen and I are some of the last ones left who carry on the old tradition.

 

Blackula's Photoshoot

It’s been fifteen long years since I’ve been this impressed with a photo session. Blackula changed that.

The Beastress within me has been slumbering for quite some time, and I know that once she wakes up, she cannot be controlled, cannot be contained. 

Ironic. The Beastress in me has been contained—inside the frames of Blackula’s photos. Her eyes look menacing as they are cloaked behind dark, sinister shadows. Her predatory teeth glimmer hungrily. Electric blue light rides the shape of her black corset and rubber skirt.

What you are witnessing is another side of me: a Demoness. A Demoness who uses her sweet smile to lure you into the photo, so you could live inside her cage forever. 

The proud rose.

The proud rose.

Its red pedals are soft to the touch just like supple skin.
It stands proudly on its long, slender stem among the field of green grass.
The rose attracts the bees, buzzing for its pollen.
Care to take a whiff of its sweet fragrance?

Be careful.

Even roses have thorns.

A Mistress is like a rose. Drug yourself on her beauty, and relish in the sharp pain from her thorns.

My Legacy.

From the paddles and whips encased and hung on my walls, to my closet filled with my favorite tools of destruction, I can say that every corner of my dungeon is truly my home away from home.

This place used to be just an empty space without a purpose. But my love for the art of BDSM has turned this space into my playground. This is where the sadist in me comes out to play.

I've built this place so you can feel my presence as soon as you enter. And after a session with me, my presence will haunt you for weeks--even months after.

My dedication. My Parthenon. My legacy.

Practicing my technique

My single-tail has been like my third arm for over twenty years. I need to refine my technique, polish my wrist movement and improve my sniper-precision aim.

From this moment onward, every lick of my whip will be that much more accurate than ever before. A bite from my single-tail will leave a burn to seep deeply into the skin, and sizzle you flesh from the inside out.

Every stroke is going to be with an even greater purpose. You WILL feel the pain of discipline and order with each strike.

It's the year 2016. New subs come out from the dark corners of New York every day. It doesn't matter though. My single-tail and I welcome fresh meat.

Don't ever interrupt me.

So, my slave is going to be playing his guitar for the Goddesses of Parthenon party tomorrow. A while ago, he decided to rehearse his performances right in front of me while I barely got work done. Ugh. Why tonight of all nights?

Then I had an idea.

While he was still obnoxiously strumming away, I rose out of my seat and sauntered my way towards him. He looked up from his guitar. My sweet smile made him shiver down to his very bones. I loved the way his eyes glowed in fright when he looked at me. But it was too late. My claws shot for his chest and clamped his nipples, hard.

 He instantly became my own little instrument that squeals like a pig. See? I can play music just fine.

Next time, don't mess with me when I'm busy.

Goddesses of Parthenon.

Goddess Hera Chevalier, Mistress Toro, Mistress Klara Manson and Mistress Eden...and yours truly: Mistress Ariana.

All of us will be under one roof tomorrow at the Parthenon. And each and every one of you subs will be tomorrow night's dinner for our whips to take a bite into. One question. Are you ready?

Surrender your body and bring it over here at The Parthenon, tomorrow from 9:00 PM to 4:00 AM. Your doom will taste delicious to us. Or if you're the type to sit back and enjoy the dark, sinful ambiance, then you'll feel safe to. The Parthenon opens its welcoming arms to everyone.

Don't forget to bring a rose for Goddess Hera. She might thank you with a hard beating on your ass!

Goddess Hera Chevalier

An all natural Mistress; a young tigress who's born to take her throne.
It's my daughter's destiny since birth.
I've always known this, and because of the royal blood I share with my daughter, she knew this as well.
The life of a Domina was a path paved for her, even though I tried to steer her on another path.
However, once I eventually allowed her to break free, her dripping thirst for control came bursting forth to take this city as her own.
To all of her hopeful clients who don't know who my daughter is, one look into her eye will tell you the difference between She and other Mistresses.
My daughter has grown up under the roof of my dungeon, breathing in the aura of dominance from every Mistress who has boldly stepped through my quarters.
Every Mistress there wields their whip of control with their own unique poise, and my daughter has learned form all of them, taking their lessons and mixing them into her own unique flavor of Domina: Mistress Hera, the home-brewed princess and heir to the Chevalier name.
Does that make you afraid or excited?

Finally updating!

You all just can’t wait, can’t you? I know all of you have been wondering what I’ve been up to.

Well, The Head Mistress of New York is always busy breaking in fresh slaves and teaching old slaves new tricks.

Lucky for you all, I’ve found time out of my schedule to proudly fill you in on the happenings at The Parthenon—Femdom capital of New York City, where the most fierce Dominas call home, and they all can’t wait to sink their fangs into the Big Apple.

And that’s not all.

I’ve decided to be extremely generous this year. I’ll be spoiling you all with fresh, new uploads to my Clips4Sale; and updates on my blog for all of you starving to know what has been going on in my mind lately. 

I’m expecting a lot of Thank Yous.