Why never trust Mistress Katarina – a dominatrix from Russia I used to live with.

I know this is a long text about why not to trust Mistress Katarina, a dominatrix from Russia (for the AirBnB people – Gina from Finchley Central). I wanted to describe the whole thing with details.

*****

Before you get into reading…
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*****

Since I’d¬†arrived to London I’ve been having nothing but troubles with my flats.

The first one was something my uncle had found through a woman he knew, who worked for a letting agency.
The house was disgusting but that wasn’t the biggest problem. It was also full of people – 8 people living there + a child + me.

The people in the house were all working class Pollacks.¬†The couple with the kid (6 years old) were… I haven’t met the man, but the woman looked like an ex-disco girl who had done so much amphetamine that her body would simply not accept any more (she had a classical case of an amphetamine/vodka face and a shitty cigarettes-voice).
Three of them were quite alright, the rest was rather scary. Only one of those people knew any English. Well, it happens. Polish labours needing pounds – nothing bad with that, but not the group I’d like to hang out with.

Third thing: the room smelled like paint because ‘it was painted especially for you two days ago’, yet it was still wet (well, moist if you don’t mind this word) and it seemed like the whole painting was arranged so as to cover some kind of fungus. Later it turned out that the room was painted on the same day, just a few hours before I arrived.

Worst thing – no gas. ‘Something broke, it should be back tonight/tomorrow’. Yes, sure. We had no gas for three days – no warm water, cold like hell, smells like paint and I cannot even open the windows… On the third day I was breathing out footzking steam. It was so much warmer outside (February in London) ¬†than inside. Skiiiit, I cannot live like that.

Luckily my uncle called me on the third day in the evening, asked: any gas yet? And after I said no he said: I’m on my way to get you.Actually, it was his wife, Ula, who picked me up. OK, I was saved. So I’ve spent some time with them looking for a job and an appartment.

I found a job – a really nice restaurant.
A flat?

I was viewing some houses (of those I could afford and it does not mean cheap anyways, we’re in London after all). Disaster. All of them were dirty, disgusting, in bad neighborhoods, like this community flat that woman rented illegally (with three kids in there) or the one I really hoped for but it turned out there’d be no furniture in the room, as they did belong to the tenant, not the landlord.
Suddenly my phone buzzes. ‘Hi, I’m Gina, I have a room in Finchley Central, it’s nice here, a lot of parks and a lake, so much better than Wood Green, ough, I hate Wood Green. My husband is a musician!’. Reasonable price. Well, let’s see!

Gina opens the door, she’s a¬†told Russian lady in her 50s with no bra, crazy about people leaving their shoes right behind the door. She shows me the house – it’s pretty, clean, neat, my room’s quite big, with king size bed, the living room with the kitchen are cool, everything clean an pretty. Clive comes out of the shower – he’s clean too but definately not pretty. It’s that short, fat, elephant-like British dude, smiley. Willing to play video games with me, she just asks me to be clean, as she hates dirt. They used to live in Florida for over 25 years, she misses Florida’s sun, very American house – something fine for me. ¬£110 for the first week + ¬£110 for the last, as I move out.
There are just two main rules:
1) to be quiet in the mornings, as they sleep until late, they’ve already had some people visit (they are into AirBnB) who’d slam the doors at 7 am etc – that’s why she asks for it
2) to be flexible, as in April her daughter comes and we’d share the room,¬†her daughter on a mattress.
Fine with me. I may even move out before April or somehow share the room.
On my way out I just ask about one thing: if my boyfriend, Wojtek, can visit me from time to time. Gina nods her head with a smile and says ‘from time to time of course’.

I was thinking about it for some time, while viewing different appartments and I decided to move in which I did on Friday.
We sat and talk, they had cocktails, I had tea and she said she hadn’t done my room yet because she hadn’t known if I’d come (really? Even when I texted ‘I’ll be in two minutes’ or when she postponed my coming twice?) but she was going to meet her client in there at 7 and after that she’d make the room ready. Alright.

I asked what she did for living which I had wanted to ask before, as she’d said that they slept until late in the mornings and also that they’d had left for a party in the evening.
‘I’m a dominatrix‘ she said ‘Clive explain it to her’.

So Clive said that it had been his idea for her to have started doing that, as her slaves payed her e.g.¬†¬£200 per hour to just tight them down and curse at them and it was a good business. My reaction was ‘it is interesting’. After that they showed me her website:
MISTRESS KATARINA [notice that the website consists of pornographic materials and it is not for under-18-year-old]
Online she writes she’s 38. She’s not.
After that they showed me some pictures of her and her slaves, including the one of her as a mermaid with her big old naked boobs out there. Good start…

It also turned out that not only I can’t slam the doors in the mornings but also I cannot use the kettle as ‘it is sooooo loud’, I cannot lock the bathroom door (which they could enter directly from their bedroom) – because it also wakes Gina up, there’s a whole protocol for closing the front door and basically I cannot do half of the things people do in the morning, as Gina would wake up. Also there’s a whole new way of washing the dishes and the kitchen; every time you eat on the table you have to clean it with a detergent, I cannot put my cosmetic things in the bathroom, because it get’s dirty from them etc.

The next day I went to work and after I came back she was getting ready to leave by the front door. We had a short chat and I said: ‘I’m going out too. I’m meeting my boyfriend and then I’m bringing him here’ and she immediately replied with ‘he cannot stay here for the night’.
‘What?’
‘After you left I asked Clive and he said he cannot stay here for the night because we’re having just one girl here and if two kids want to sleep here, he has to pay us an extra ¬£20’.

Shocked I went to my bedroom, calmed down and went to the living room where she was.
‘I think it is unfair’ I say ‘you didn’t say a word when I asked you or when I gave you ¬£220 and believe me, that would affect my decision’
‘He can come if he wants’ she says like she didn’t get a shit from what I’ve just said ‘just he has to give us ¬£20’
‘You didn’t say that before’ I repeat.
‘I’m telling you know’ she says like that was fine.
‘Alright’ I say ‘It’s your house, your rules, but you DID NOT say a WORD before. We can pay you extra if he stays, just please, not tonight, we planned it for a long time and had no idea it would be like that and I just cannot call him right now and say <if you want to stay, pay>’
‘I don’t care. If he stays, he pays extra’ she says like she didn’t get a shit again, with this extremely stupid kind of look in her eyes.
Clive comes in and she bursts out¬†‘tell her that if he wants to stay, he has to pay’
Clive says what his rules are.
I repeat she’s never said a word, furthermore that she did say¬†something different when I asked.
Clive explains his motivation. The tears of anger appear in my eyes, as I explain again:
‘Alright, I agree, just this one night. I cannot tell him now, we planned it blah blah blah’
She says ‘I don’t care, Clive is the man of the house and he said what he thinks about it’
Clive gives me a hugg and says ‘You’re right. I agree, just this one night.’
She leaves angry, but… sorry, you cannot dominate ME, you Russian mama.
She turns around and goes ‘oh and I told you about the flexibility, you know, sometimes you’d have to change the rooms, sometimes I’d have clients in your room in the middle of the day’ and they leave.

What the fuck? That was not the deal. If I had known about those things, I’d have never moved in here. Clients in my room? Does she think she can bring men I don’t know to the place where my property and documents are? My valuable¬†European passport? Is she completely crazy? Also does she think she can whip their butts on my bed and chain them to my wardrobe? And what about all those shitty deseases she could have already brought to my room by hurting people where I sleep? Occasionaly their blood somewhere? Their cum shots on the chair or anything? Fuck! (it’s not even ‘footzk’ anymore) She’s gonna give me my money back and I’m moving out because THIS IS NOT HOME, and I payed¬†¬£220 for a¬†home, not something like that, being¬†afraid of keeping my property in, having no privacy…

So the next day in the morning I’m like ‘Can I talk with you and Clive?’
‘Yes, what is it? Talk to me’
‘I’d like to speak to the both of you’
‘Clive’s in the bedroom and he is very busy, he’s having a meeting on his computer right now’ she says which doesn’t even sound like truth but what can I do.
‘Alright’ I say ‘the thing is that I am not OK with you smacking dudes in my room’ I say ‘you’ve never mentioned any of that before.’
‘OK, you can leave’ she says pouring A LOT of some¬†weird detergent into the sink ‘He [Wojtek] shouldn’t be washing the dishes in the first place. You’re both sick [we weren’t, I did coughed like once or twice], I have to disinfect these’
‘I am moving out’ I say ‘Just give me my money back and I’m out’
‘You’re not getting your money back’ she says.
‘Why?’
‘Because you payed for the two weeks. You can stay here for the two weeks if you want to’ she says ‘and then you’re not gonna live here’.
‘I’m moving out now as you cheated with that deal, you didn’t tell me significant things which would affect my decision, it’s not a real deal and you just want me to give you a lot of money for two nights after which I have to run away afraid of some men I don’t know entering my room where my things are’
‘They won’t, I have another room for that’ (yes, right now, when no AirBnB people are here)
‘Still they may. Just that thought in your head, that you could use my room for that sort of stuff, was sick and I don’t believe you say right now it won’t happen’ (I mean… she has already said some things and the truth was different, right?)
‘I don’t care. You stay here for the two weeks and then you leave or you leave now and get no money’ she says with her dominant voice pretending she’s so calm.
‘ooooh, I am so getting my money. I am leaving now’ I yell ‘and I can pay you for those two nights I stayed here [which would be ¬£31 -> ¬£110/7*2 = ¬£31,4] but you’re giving me the rest back. If not, I’m gonna let the police know, the malicious department [though I’m not sure if that’s how they call it] know and I’m gonna report it to the council.’
‘Go, report it’ she says waving at me like at a chicken or obviously her daughter, if that’s how she treats people (I mean I would treat only chickens or ducks with that gesture).
‘I will’ I yell and leave the living room.
‘Give me my cup back’ she says because after almost 30 years of using English she still doesn’t know how to say ‘a mug’.
‘Here you are’ I say giving it to her strongly (my aim was to spill some of that coffe but I was too gentle with that).
I slam the door, go to my room and cry on Wojtek’s shoulder. I knew she wouldn’t give me the money but still I was so angry. She follows me and tells him ‘Go. Leave my house!’ infuriated.
He’s amazingly cool and says ‘I won’t. This is my girlfriend and I am here so as to help her with moving out from here’.
‘Are you leaving out right now?’ asks she, so truly surprised. Damn, didn’t she get anything from what I said? Too bad.
‘Yes I am’ I say and start packing up. She closes the door and goes to the living room.

I can hear Clive go to her and ask what’s wrong. She says some shit, obviously irritated just pretending to be so dominant. I’m almost all packed after¬†maybe 10 minutes? I tell Wojtek to call my uncle, RafaŇā. They talk but I just pack all my things.
‘RafaŇā says he’ll be here in 30 minutes’ he say.
Knock on door. ‘Yes’ I say, I know it is Clive, not that crazy Russian woman.

‘Let’s talk about what happens’ he says. He seems upset with the both of us, yet he remains¬†calm. He tries to explain what that cheating Ruska was about, also lets me repeat what I’ve just said to the ‘lady’ who didn’t get a shit from what I think; he says that I should stay and we can sit down and talk about that but it seems like I’m moving out anyway so they’ll give me the money back. When she hears it she suddenly appears out of nowhere in my room saying ‘how much do we charge normally? 55 pounds per night? So two night, 55 pounds….it’s ¬£110. So you get ¬£110 back’ [later I checked it, their AirBnB profile says 30 for one room and 40 for the en-suit but well, they just lie and cheat]

‘Why do you want to charge me daily if I’m not renting it daily, I’ve rented it weekly and if it wasn’t for you cheat me I’d stay here. But I am leaving now, which is your fault, not mine; you changed the rules, you broke the agreement, that’s why I am leaving. You can charge me 30 pounds for those two nights, but anotherwise I’m gonna go the police, the council, the malicious department and I’m gonna make a mess about it, as you’re trying to steal from me’.

‘Ok’ says Clive ‘I’m giving you ¬£130 back’
What, should I be grateful?
‘No’ I say.

He leaves to have a cup of tea. Rafal arrives and so we take all the bags and the guitar to the corridor, place them by the door.
Clive speaks to us. He’d give me 150 pounds. Not enough.
‘Clive if you don’t give me at least 170, I’m gonna report it everywhere I can’ I say.
He tries being polite and explain but he’s afraid. He says ‘160’. I say ‘no’. In the middle of that the crazy Russian, frustrated with the fact she cannot just whip my ass and I won’t listen to her because that’s not her bedroom – this is life, comes and yells something like ‘you’re not getting any money’ and I’m like ‘yes, I bet I am. And also when I report it, I could give them a word or two¬†about your profession…’
He’s angry, he goes to the kitchen saying I’m not gonna get anything (but justice, dude!)
Wojtek says he’s gonna talk with him, while I should see Rafal outside. I go to my uncle, he says ‘Don’t let them do that. Either they give you the money or you report them, tell them you’re not gonna talk about it for hours’.

I enter the house, Clive’s there with Wojtek, giving me ¬£160 claiming¬†it’s enough. I take the money, my things, we leave and Clive says something like ‘I think it’s fine now blah blah blah’ and I don’t even look at him, just expressed¬†disgust on my face and say ‘I think it should be reported anyway’. And I am going to¬†report it.

That’s where their money for holidays and the big house comes from.

We agreed with my uncle that Russia is not a country, Russia is a state of the mind.

*****

If you want to go to Finchley to meet with Mistress Katarina, whose real name is Gina, just be aware that:
-they cheat
-they lie
-they cheat for the money and believe me, they are not poor, they didn’t need that money, they are just gritty (and she is just very very footzking Russian)
-they are unreliable
-I wouldn’t trust them and believe that my partner won’t know about the whole thing if he/she asks them – they are not worth anyone’s trust (like any liers and cheaters)
-she’s not 38, though she definately was 38 some time of the last century
-she’s not that dominative, she’s just a poor-hearted woman of that proffesion, as she didn’t find anything better for herself
-she’s crazy (at least 5 examples in the text)

Also if you want to AirBnB with them please be aware, that the beds you would sleep on were previously used for smacking her slaves, the sheets you use were probably covered in some slaves’ blood.
If you want to AirBnB with them please be aware, that they may just cheat on you for money, as they don’t seem to find it dishonest, they just do it,¬†manipulate with the prices and sell you something different than what they promised.

Their AirBnB page: https://pl.airbnb.com/users/show/684352

Their AirBnB bedrooms: https://pl.airbnb.com/rooms/140518 and https://pl.airbnb.com/rooms/313012

What happens in there: http://profiles.birchplace.com/mistresskatarina/media.pro#!prettyPhoto

I do hope they won’t steal from you, buddy!

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Why never trust Mistress Katarina – a dominatrix from Russia I used to live with.

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