So it's just about 1:30 Sunday morning as I type this.
About 90 minutes ago there were some very loud bangs/booms from another apartment in my building that were very familiar - and unmistakable-- to anyone who has ever spent any time on or near a firing range.
About 10 minutes later there were four more.
A short time later I was dragged out of bed by a frantic pounding at my door. I opened it a crack to find a officer in uniform who leaned in and whispered that there was an emergency. He asked me to please gather my things and leave the building.
"Always make sure your clothes are where you can find them in the dark."-- Some of Robert Heinlein's best advice, given through his character Lazarus Long. It served me well tonight. I was not wearing anything at all when I answered the door, but I knew exactly where to find my robe, my shoes, and my coat. It took me only seconds to be ready.
While I gathered my things the officer stood sentry outside my door, putting himself between me and the BIG-BAD-WHATEVER. I watched him for a moment as I opened the door. His posture made it clear that whatever was out there wasn't getting past him as long as I was in my apartment. As I stepped out his position changed. He put himself between me and the open space at the front of my apartment building and stayed there as he guided me around the back and then to other officers who in turn guided me to our exercise room across the parking lot.
I was the first in, but others soon followed. They cleared the building unit by unit. It didn't take long for word to trickle down as to what was happening. There was a man in one of the apartments with a shotgun. There were three other adults in the apartment with him and two children-- one of them an infant.
We all huddled into the exercise room and the tense wait began. The scene unfolded like any police drama you've seen in the movies. The building was surrounded; warnings were issued over the loud speaker. At one point another shot was fired. We all held our breath, waiting for a storm of return fire. It didn't come.
Suddenly there was a flurry of movement. A few minutes later we were told we could return to our apartments.
As we walked home we all had to go past where they had the guy kneeling and handcuffed on the pavement. Nothing was hidden, nothing was covered up. He was healthy and uninjured and though the were questioning him their voices were calm and they spoke professionally. Upstairs another officer was gathering blankets for the children.
Everything tonight worked with the professional precision of a well oiled machine. Every detail was seen to, every base covered. No one was hurt. No one died.
Our police take a lot of criticism, and truthfully sometimes it's deserved. Not tonight. Tonight every one of the men out there was an example of the shining best of what the police can and should be. I'm proud of every single one of them.
And I told them so.
Ms. Betty
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Her Way
So I signed up for a dating site.
Yep. Me. A vanilla dating site.
I plead boredom, or the effects of the fever I've been battling on and off for the past week, or lack of sleep due to illness.
Really I'm not ready for anything yet and I don't think I'll do much with it, or at least not yet, but I was curious so I checked it out.
The site is called Her Way. Apparently it isn't your typical dating site. Their premise is unique. On Her Way the women call the shots. Men can't initiate contact. They can't even browse the profiles. Women's profiles are hidden, but the men's are available to browse. The women pick and choose, deciding who they want to meet.
It's sort of like a cyber version of a Sadie Hawkins dance.
I couldn't believe it. It sounds like something out of a Femdom fiction story. But it's real, and it appealed very strongly to the Domme in me. I can't help wondering if submissive men will be drawn to such a site as well.
We'll have to wait and see.
Ms. Betty
Yep. Me. A vanilla dating site.
I plead boredom, or the effects of the fever I've been battling on and off for the past week, or lack of sleep due to illness.
Really I'm not ready for anything yet and I don't think I'll do much with it, or at least not yet, but I was curious so I checked it out.
The site is called Her Way. Apparently it isn't your typical dating site. Their premise is unique. On Her Way the women call the shots. Men can't initiate contact. They can't even browse the profiles. Women's profiles are hidden, but the men's are available to browse. The women pick and choose, deciding who they want to meet.
It's sort of like a cyber version of a Sadie Hawkins dance.
I couldn't believe it. It sounds like something out of a Femdom fiction story. But it's real, and it appealed very strongly to the Domme in me. I can't help wondering if submissive men will be drawn to such a site as well.
We'll have to wait and see.
Ms. Betty
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Love Our Lurkers!
Wow, here we are at LOL day again already!
Once again, thank you all so much for the time you spend here reading and commenting.
It's been a rough year this year, and I'm particularly thankful to those of you who stuck by me as I ended one life and started a new one; and waited patiently for me to get back to blogging.
I know there are more of you out there who stuck by me, because my page numbers stayed up even through my months of silence. I just don't know your names, so please say hi. That's what today is for.
Thanks again,
Ms. Betty
Once again, thank you all so much for the time you spend here reading and commenting.
It's been a rough year this year, and I'm particularly thankful to those of you who stuck by me as I ended one life and started a new one; and waited patiently for me to get back to blogging.
I know there are more of you out there who stuck by me, because my page numbers stayed up even through my months of silence. I just don't know your names, so please say hi. That's what today is for.
Thanks again,
Ms. Betty
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Did I hear that right??!!
A moment ago I was listening to Harry Belafonte singing "Mama, Look at Bubu". I'd never heard the song before. I was in the middle of writing an email so I wasn't paying attention too closely. Then suddenly I thought I heard:
"Bring de belt, you're much too impudent"
Wait, what? The song moved onto the chorus as I sat there doubting what I had heard.
So I looked it up and sure enough:
Now, like most, I do not condone spanking children, but it was quite the startle. We don't often find spanking mentioned in songs.
Ms. Betty
"Bring de belt, you're much too impudent"
Wait, what? The song moved onto the chorus as I sat there doubting what I had heard.
So I looked it up and sure enough:
Now, like most, I do not condone spanking children, but it was quite the startle. We don't often find spanking mentioned in songs.
Ms. Betty
Monday, October 4, 2010
The Nature of Change
PC's birthday is later this month, so I suppose it's no surprise that we found ourselves in a reflective mood earlier today.
This month's chastity game revolves around an experiment to see if we can make him eroticize spanking. It's not serious conditioning, just a lark, but it's still fun to see the results.
For the next two weeks he can only masturbate to F/M themed spanking material. Then he will be in chastity for a week. At the end of that week we will hold his birthday session. During this session he will have to ask me for a bare bottom spanking... in front of company.
As is his way, he finds the idea both deeply arousing and slightly horrifying. Among his other worries, he's not sure how well his bottom will hold up to a spanking since it's been so long since he's had an intense bottom warming.
It's been almost a year since he faced a serious disciplinary spanking. It's hard to believe that this is the same man who, when we first started 5 years ago, could barely go a week or two without needing a serious attitude adjustment.
The swearing, the temper tantrums, the poor manners, they've all faded away over time to leave an actual adult in their place.
Those of us who practice disciplinary spanking know it works. We know how it works and we know why it works, but mostly the knowledge is theoretical; seeing the results first hand is a bit different. It's deeply satisfying to watch the attitude change and the man in your care grow and mature.
Suddenly one day he is standing there, strong and confident, yet humble; assertive and independent, yet obedient; all of the best things he ever was mixed with all the hard lessons learned over your knee.
This is when you realize it's worth it. This is when you know that all the fight and struggle, the stress, the sleepless nights, have all paid off. He's the man you always knew he could be.
You have to be proud of that.
Ms. Betty
This month's chastity game revolves around an experiment to see if we can make him eroticize spanking. It's not serious conditioning, just a lark, but it's still fun to see the results.
For the next two weeks he can only masturbate to F/M themed spanking material. Then he will be in chastity for a week. At the end of that week we will hold his birthday session. During this session he will have to ask me for a bare bottom spanking... in front of company.
As is his way, he finds the idea both deeply arousing and slightly horrifying. Among his other worries, he's not sure how well his bottom will hold up to a spanking since it's been so long since he's had an intense bottom warming.
It's been almost a year since he faced a serious disciplinary spanking. It's hard to believe that this is the same man who, when we first started 5 years ago, could barely go a week or two without needing a serious attitude adjustment.
The swearing, the temper tantrums, the poor manners, they've all faded away over time to leave an actual adult in their place.
Those of us who practice disciplinary spanking know it works. We know how it works and we know why it works, but mostly the knowledge is theoretical; seeing the results first hand is a bit different. It's deeply satisfying to watch the attitude change and the man in your care grow and mature.
Suddenly one day he is standing there, strong and confident, yet humble; assertive and independent, yet obedient; all of the best things he ever was mixed with all the hard lessons learned over your knee.
This is when you realize it's worth it. This is when you know that all the fight and struggle, the stress, the sleepless nights, have all paid off. He's the man you always knew he could be.
You have to be proud of that.
Ms. Betty
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Drilling for Oil
"It's like drilling for oil."
That's what I think to myself as I poke at the tip of his cock with the sharp point of a needle. You have to hit exactly the right spot at exactly the right depth to get what you want.
Poke here, you just get a little red spot. Poke there, nothing at all. Poke there and you get a gusher, not quite what you want, either. But what about there, just there, little bit over...just a little deeper. A-ha! Got it!
What am I doing?
_____________________________________________________________________
Read the rest at Lady Koregan's Femdom Fantasy
That's what I think to myself as I poke at the tip of his cock with the sharp point of a needle. You have to hit exactly the right spot at exactly the right depth to get what you want.
Poke here, you just get a little red spot. Poke there, nothing at all. Poke there and you get a gusher, not quite what you want, either. But what about there, just there, little bit over...just a little deeper. A-ha! Got it!
What am I doing?
_____________________________________________________________________
Read the rest at Lady Koregan's Femdom Fantasy
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
I'm Alive!
Hey strangers!
Yes, Ms. Betty is still alive, and well, and in Denver.
I've said before that the trouble with blogging is that when you have time to blog you usually don't have much going on to blog about, and when you do have interesting things going on you don't have time to blog about them.
It still rings true.
But my God, has it really been 5 months since I posted in this space?
Apparently so.
So what's been happening in Ms. Betty's world?
The cats and I moved into a new apartment for a brand new start about a month ago. So far all of us seem to be enjoying the lack of stress and negativity. Maggie is more affectionate and sociable and less the half-wild kitten she used to be. Trouble is more outgoing as well. The don't skulk in the corners or under the bed anymore.
I haven't filed for divorce yet, but the break was clean and though the ex and I talk occasionally I think we are both happier in our separate lives.
I won't go into details about the split or the reasons for it, but it very much was/is the better thing.
I'm not yet out there looking for love, I'm rather enjoying the time to myself, but I am keeping company with wonderful new friends and old and at least as yet am not feeling any twinges of loneliness.
Hudson and I parted company, for reasons pointless and silly, but pc and the bunny are still with me, loyal and loving as ever.
I am still spanking and playing in many other kinky ways, both personally and professionally. Lady Koregan (my Prodomme name) now has her own blog, though granted there aren't any entries yet. I've also set up to take phone sessions as well as real time sessions, which I am enjoying very much.
My day job is still going about the same. I still love it, even when it makes me crazy. We've entered that time of year I affectionately refer to as "seasonal hell" so it's going to be busy, worse this year as I don't have the great team that got me through last year but in an odd way I am looking forward to it. Nothing like a good challenge to get the blood stirring and wake up the synapses.
We set up the Halloween section last week. There was a nip in the air as I went out to meet my cab Saturday morning. When I looked up I noticed Orion low in the sky, just above the horizon. Fall is on the way.
My one tiny twinge of regret is that here we are at Labor Day weekend and I haven't picked up a paintbrush all summer. In fact I haven't touched a painting since I finished a rather large (24"x30") black and white rendition of the Paris skyline back in March.
I've had a spark or two of inspiration, but nothing's gotten out of the preliminary sketching phase. But that is alright, some years a field must lie fallow. Hopefully it will make for a better creative "crop" next year.
And it's not as if I can't paint in the winter, it's just my preference not to as it means working with artificial light rather than natural and forced air heat makes the paint on the canvas dry to fast. Blending is difficult to impossible and as such paintings do not come out with as much depth or sophistication.
And I do have other things to show for my summer. Building a new life is also a creative endeavor, I cannot discount that.
I have also been putting some time and effort into refreshing my kinky skills in areas I haven't had the chance to use much lately. Knots don't tie themselves, after all. I have a wonderful new set up where everything in the living room doubles as play equipment. I want to be sure I can use it well.
There are two new areas of kink I have begun exploring as well, but that's another post.
Before I close this post, I'd like to take a moment and thank Mitch and Auntie Rhi for checking on me and dragging me back into the world of the living. Good friends are this life's greatest blessings.
Ms. Betty
Yes, Ms. Betty is still alive, and well, and in Denver.
I've said before that the trouble with blogging is that when you have time to blog you usually don't have much going on to blog about, and when you do have interesting things going on you don't have time to blog about them.
It still rings true.
But my God, has it really been 5 months since I posted in this space?
Apparently so.
So what's been happening in Ms. Betty's world?
The cats and I moved into a new apartment for a brand new start about a month ago. So far all of us seem to be enjoying the lack of stress and negativity. Maggie is more affectionate and sociable and less the half-wild kitten she used to be. Trouble is more outgoing as well. The don't skulk in the corners or under the bed anymore.
I haven't filed for divorce yet, but the break was clean and though the ex and I talk occasionally I think we are both happier in our separate lives.
I won't go into details about the split or the reasons for it, but it very much was/is the better thing.
I'm not yet out there looking for love, I'm rather enjoying the time to myself, but I am keeping company with wonderful new friends and old and at least as yet am not feeling any twinges of loneliness.
Hudson and I parted company, for reasons pointless and silly, but pc and the bunny are still with me, loyal and loving as ever.
I am still spanking and playing in many other kinky ways, both personally and professionally. Lady Koregan (my Prodomme name) now has her own blog, though granted there aren't any entries yet. I've also set up to take phone sessions as well as real time sessions, which I am enjoying very much.
My day job is still going about the same. I still love it, even when it makes me crazy. We've entered that time of year I affectionately refer to as "seasonal hell" so it's going to be busy, worse this year as I don't have the great team that got me through last year but in an odd way I am looking forward to it. Nothing like a good challenge to get the blood stirring and wake up the synapses.
We set up the Halloween section last week. There was a nip in the air as I went out to meet my cab Saturday morning. When I looked up I noticed Orion low in the sky, just above the horizon. Fall is on the way.
My one tiny twinge of regret is that here we are at Labor Day weekend and I haven't picked up a paintbrush all summer. In fact I haven't touched a painting since I finished a rather large (24"x30") black and white rendition of the Paris skyline back in March.
I've had a spark or two of inspiration, but nothing's gotten out of the preliminary sketching phase. But that is alright, some years a field must lie fallow. Hopefully it will make for a better creative "crop" next year.
And it's not as if I can't paint in the winter, it's just my preference not to as it means working with artificial light rather than natural and forced air heat makes the paint on the canvas dry to fast. Blending is difficult to impossible and as such paintings do not come out with as much depth or sophistication.
And I do have other things to show for my summer. Building a new life is also a creative endeavor, I cannot discount that.
I have also been putting some time and effort into refreshing my kinky skills in areas I haven't had the chance to use much lately. Knots don't tie themselves, after all. I have a wonderful new set up where everything in the living room doubles as play equipment. I want to be sure I can use it well.
There are two new areas of kink I have begun exploring as well, but that's another post.
Before I close this post, I'd like to take a moment and thank Mitch and Auntie Rhi for checking on me and dragging me back into the world of the living. Good friends are this life's greatest blessings.
Ms. Betty
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Circles
Apparently my last post was a little vague.
I am sorry about that. I was in a hurry and just a bit annoyed. Now that I have a little more time, I will elaborate.
Pagans are not a particularly formal bunch. At times there can be high ceremony in a ritual but just as often it can be a casual and relaxed, though still serious, affair.
Many faiths have places specifically dedicated to worship:
Christians have churches, the Jewish have their synagogues*, Muslims have mosques, and many others have temples or shrines.
Most Pagans do not. Like the actors of MidSummer Night's Dream, all we need is a is a small piece of ground to practice our art.
Our temple is carried within us and when it is needed we draw it out with wand, sword, knife, or merely our wills.
We do this by casting a circle. Methods of doing this vary widely but the basic process is the same, mark out the perimeter of the circle, either physically with chalk, paint, rope, etc or just in our minds and then call the elements in each direction to watch over it.
(If you are interested in specific details there are a great many sources out there any basic internet search should turn them up.)
My practice is mostly solitary. I rarely have guests in my circle, but very recently I did. And this is where I ran into trouble.
You see the "experts" recommend that a circle for a solitary practitioner be 5 feet in diameter. They recommend a diameter of 9 feet for a "coven" (three or more). Everything written about Pagan ritual seems to be either directed at one person working alone or at a group. Very little seems to be oriented towards people working in pairs. I find this omission a bit odd considering the nature of the dynamics, but that's just me.
Part of the goal for the day was healing work. Healing, for me at least, works better when the recipient is lying down. My guest for the day was a bit over six feet tall. It was then that I realized that someone six feet tall was not going to fit lying down in a five foot diameter circle.
For reasons I hope are obvious, once a circle is cast everything is supposed to stay inside it, feet sticking out over the edge really won't do.
And 9 feet? Well first of all my living room isn't big enough for a circle that size, and even if it was, circles that size are often a bit too big for just two.
So it got me wondering what size circle is best for two people?
7 feet worked just right. and gave me just enough room for the candles at the outer edge. :)
But then I got thinking of all the ways the work and worship inside a circle take form. Many people probably end up laying down at some point.
But, as I said, most adults are taller than 5 feet so they would not fit lying down inside a personal circle of the "standard" size.
Made me wonder if we need to think these things through a bit more carefully...
Ms. Bety
*Special greetings and good wishes for those who attend the local synagogues here that were recently targeted for protests by a hate group. You all handled it admirably.
I am sorry about that. I was in a hurry and just a bit annoyed. Now that I have a little more time, I will elaborate.
Pagans are not a particularly formal bunch. At times there can be high ceremony in a ritual but just as often it can be a casual and relaxed, though still serious, affair.
Many faiths have places specifically dedicated to worship:
Christians have churches, the Jewish have their synagogues*, Muslims have mosques, and many others have temples or shrines.
Most Pagans do not. Like the actors of MidSummer Night's Dream, all we need is a is a small piece of ground to practice our art.
Our temple is carried within us and when it is needed we draw it out with wand, sword, knife, or merely our wills.
We do this by casting a circle. Methods of doing this vary widely but the basic process is the same, mark out the perimeter of the circle, either physically with chalk, paint, rope, etc or just in our minds and then call the elements in each direction to watch over it.
(If you are interested in specific details there are a great many sources out there any basic internet search should turn them up.)
My practice is mostly solitary. I rarely have guests in my circle, but very recently I did. And this is where I ran into trouble.
You see the "experts" recommend that a circle for a solitary practitioner be 5 feet in diameter. They recommend a diameter of 9 feet for a "coven" (three or more). Everything written about Pagan ritual seems to be either directed at one person working alone or at a group. Very little seems to be oriented towards people working in pairs. I find this omission a bit odd considering the nature of the dynamics, but that's just me.
Part of the goal for the day was healing work. Healing, for me at least, works better when the recipient is lying down. My guest for the day was a bit over six feet tall. It was then that I realized that someone six feet tall was not going to fit lying down in a five foot diameter circle.
For reasons I hope are obvious, once a circle is cast everything is supposed to stay inside it, feet sticking out over the edge really won't do.
And 9 feet? Well first of all my living room isn't big enough for a circle that size, and even if it was, circles that size are often a bit too big for just two.
So it got me wondering what size circle is best for two people?
7 feet worked just right. and gave me just enough room for the candles at the outer edge. :)
But then I got thinking of all the ways the work and worship inside a circle take form. Many people probably end up laying down at some point.
But, as I said, most adults are taller than 5 feet so they would not fit lying down inside a personal circle of the "standard" size.
Made me wonder if we need to think these things through a bit more carefully...
Ms. Bety
*Special greetings and good wishes for those who attend the local synagogues here that were recently targeted for protests by a hate group. You all handled it admirably.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Dear Universe,
I am afraid I must respectfully, and regretfully, point out that a six foot man does not fit in a five foot circle.
I do not fit in a five foot circle.
In fact, a larger percentage of modern adults do not fit lying down in a five foot circle.
Please advise.
Sincerely,
Your reluctant Emissary
I do not fit in a five foot circle.
In fact, a larger percentage of modern adults do not fit lying down in a five foot circle.
Please advise.
Sincerely,
Your reluctant Emissary
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Silence
I sat in a silent house for a little while tonight. No music. No television. Not even the cats stirring. I just sat on the couch, listening to my own heartbeat.
I'm trying to get used to the quiet, you see. My marriage is ending and my husband will be moving out at the end of the month. So soon it will just be me.
And suddenly I feel very small.
So I sat in the quiet awhile and let myself feel all the things stirring inside me, the sadness, the anger, the doubt. It didn't have to be quiet. I could have called one of many friends, tormented a boy, turned on a movie or music, or a dozen other things, but I wanted the quiet. Needed it. I needed to know if I could be ok just by myself. Nothing between me and the void.
And you know what, I can. It's not so bad, the quiet. It doesn't scare me, or devastate me. In fact, it feels pretty good.
And so do I.
Ms. Betty
I'm trying to get used to the quiet, you see. My marriage is ending and my husband will be moving out at the end of the month. So soon it will just be me.
And suddenly I feel very small.
So I sat in the quiet awhile and let myself feel all the things stirring inside me, the sadness, the anger, the doubt. It didn't have to be quiet. I could have called one of many friends, tormented a boy, turned on a movie or music, or a dozen other things, but I wanted the quiet. Needed it. I needed to know if I could be ok just by myself. Nothing between me and the void.
And you know what, I can. It's not so bad, the quiet. It doesn't scare me, or devastate me. In fact, it feels pretty good.
And so do I.
Ms. Betty
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Hudson
He came to me as a client. Articulate, but hesitant, almost shy in his approach. He had some idea about what he wanted but seemed filled with as many questions as I had answers.
His early emails had a blue patterned background. He stood out in many good ways.
The first session came and went all too fast. He did indeed like flogging, and spanking, and cbt, and just about any and everything that hurt.
I smiled to myself as I watched him writhing under my attentions. I couldn't resist taunting him just a little. I leaned down, pressed my lips to his ear and whispered, "you're just a little slut, aren't you?"
Magic words. A naming, sure as a finger pointed at a mythical creature to cage it. The power of a name is said to work only once but that once is enough, the spell is cast and the beast is tamed.
Funny that I should chose that word. It is one I had never uttered before. But sure as bunny's first time calling me Mistress, it clicked into place, perfect at the time and perfect ever after. Our secret whispered in the dark.
This boy would be special. I knew it the moment I saw him. He was eager for knowledge and happily soaked up everything I taught him.
Our emails went on forever, back and forth over every little detail. We meshed in so many ways. Each morning found me eagerly climbing out of bed to see what he had written next.
From the very beginning he considered himself mine and acted accordingly. It was soon clear to me that this boy would need more- deserved more- than a professional relationship.
I took my time about it. Through our emails and a few more sessions I began to feel him out, get an idea for who he was as a person.
Then came February and his request to see me on a feast day. I very much wanted to but the date complicated things a bit. So I opened up, told him secrets and details I would not usually share with anyone, let alone a paying client. But I did, and he understood and embraced, cherished really, the things I told him.
We had the session. I played it a bit darker and deeper than we had gone before. There on his knees in my living room on a night made for magic he cried for me. As I held him afterward I thought again about what a special boy I had and knew this had to become more than a business transaction. But something told me not just yet. So again I waited.
I saw him again as a client late in the month. He tried to leave without his shoes. As he straightened his tie in my mirror I found my heart flutter and tilt. I knew it was going to be the last time I could ask him to pay me. He would, I knew, but that wasn't want I wanted. Not from him. Not anymore.
Then work threw me a surprise. I had too many vacation hours and had to take some of them. This was it. It was time.
I broke it to him gently. The sweet boy was actually surprised, but very happy. He wanted nothing more than to belong to someone and now he was going to.
I made him go through the formal negotiation process. That was another first for me. In the past it's always just sort of happened. This time I did it very deliberately, explaining in detail what I wanted and what he could expect. He agreed.
And so I named him. Hudson, for a gargoyle; a mythical creature who spends his days as stone but comes to life at night. For my Hudson I am his night and he comes alive under me as his stone skin shatters as falls away.
Tomorrow he gets his first discipline spanking, and a belt that will serve as his collar.
Welcome to the family, boy of mine.
His early emails had a blue patterned background. He stood out in many good ways.
The first session came and went all too fast. He did indeed like flogging, and spanking, and cbt, and just about any and everything that hurt.
I smiled to myself as I watched him writhing under my attentions. I couldn't resist taunting him just a little. I leaned down, pressed my lips to his ear and whispered, "you're just a little slut, aren't you?"
Magic words. A naming, sure as a finger pointed at a mythical creature to cage it. The power of a name is said to work only once but that once is enough, the spell is cast and the beast is tamed.
Funny that I should chose that word. It is one I had never uttered before. But sure as bunny's first time calling me Mistress, it clicked into place, perfect at the time and perfect ever after. Our secret whispered in the dark.
This boy would be special. I knew it the moment I saw him. He was eager for knowledge and happily soaked up everything I taught him.
Our emails went on forever, back and forth over every little detail. We meshed in so many ways. Each morning found me eagerly climbing out of bed to see what he had written next.
From the very beginning he considered himself mine and acted accordingly. It was soon clear to me that this boy would need more- deserved more- than a professional relationship.
I took my time about it. Through our emails and a few more sessions I began to feel him out, get an idea for who he was as a person.
Then came February and his request to see me on a feast day. I very much wanted to but the date complicated things a bit. So I opened up, told him secrets and details I would not usually share with anyone, let alone a paying client. But I did, and he understood and embraced, cherished really, the things I told him.
We had the session. I played it a bit darker and deeper than we had gone before. There on his knees in my living room on a night made for magic he cried for me. As I held him afterward I thought again about what a special boy I had and knew this had to become more than a business transaction. But something told me not just yet. So again I waited.
I saw him again as a client late in the month. He tried to leave without his shoes. As he straightened his tie in my mirror I found my heart flutter and tilt. I knew it was going to be the last time I could ask him to pay me. He would, I knew, but that wasn't want I wanted. Not from him. Not anymore.
Then work threw me a surprise. I had too many vacation hours and had to take some of them. This was it. It was time.
I broke it to him gently. The sweet boy was actually surprised, but very happy. He wanted nothing more than to belong to someone and now he was going to.
I made him go through the formal negotiation process. That was another first for me. In the past it's always just sort of happened. This time I did it very deliberately, explaining in detail what I wanted and what he could expect. He agreed.
And so I named him. Hudson, for a gargoyle; a mythical creature who spends his days as stone but comes to life at night. For my Hudson I am his night and he comes alive under me as his stone skin shatters as falls away.
Tomorrow he gets his first discipline spanking, and a belt that will serve as his collar.
Welcome to the family, boy of mine.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Resurection!
Yea!
It took some doing, but thanks to that brilliant computer whiz I married my computer is once again up and running.
I a week off of work (gasp, me?) to restore my data from my back ups. I also did some spring cleaning, finished a painting...and took on a new boy.
I still have pc, and my bunny, but I am quite pleased with the new addition to our little D/s family.
Hopefully, I will be introducing you all to him soon.
But for now we have some beautiful spring weather, I have a day off and I can't decide if I'm off to do some sketching or some shopping but either way I'm going out to enjoy this before the rain and snow blow back in tomorrow.
Ms. Betty
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Death of a Desktop
My old and faithful computer, Teena, finally gave up the ghost this past week.
In the 7 years I'd had her I rarely had trouble so I can hardly complain. She served well and worked hard.
We've decided to recycle her, putting new parts in the old case to bring her back to life. She'll be a new computer with a new name but the same spirit.
In the meantime, I'm using a little netbook for day to day email and surfing... and, God help me! using windows 7.
It's a sporty little machine, lots of zip and nice and light. Convenient, too. I never knew how decadent it felt to email someone from bed, but the keyboard is awfully small and uncomfortable for long spells of typing.
With any luck it will be just a few weeks before my new machine is up and running and regular blogging (well ok as close to regular as I get) will resume. I have a nice backlog of stories to share.
Ms. Betty
In the 7 years I'd had her I rarely had trouble so I can hardly complain. She served well and worked hard.
We've decided to recycle her, putting new parts in the old case to bring her back to life. She'll be a new computer with a new name but the same spirit.
In the meantime, I'm using a little netbook for day to day email and surfing... and, God help me! using windows 7.
It's a sporty little machine, lots of zip and nice and light. Convenient, too. I never knew how decadent it felt to email someone from bed, but the keyboard is awfully small and uncomfortable for long spells of typing.
With any luck it will be just a few weeks before my new machine is up and running and regular blogging (well ok as close to regular as I get) will resume. I have a nice backlog of stories to share.
Ms. Betty
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
One Perfect Day
I asked him to wear a button down shirt for me. I've always found something very sexy about them, whether they're formal dress shirts or the light causal type a shirt that buttons is one of my biggest turn ons.
I've always enjoyed pulling a boy's pants down for a spanking, even if it's the light and fun type. Undressing a boy for a session is the same, only more potent. He's all the more helpless and vulnerable. I like a boy wearing a button up shirt when I'm going to undress him because I like to keep eye contact while taking his clothes off. It makes for a powerfully intimate moment.
So I stripped him, slowly. I helped myself to his body liberally as his clothes came off, a stroke here, an pinch there, nails raking over his skin in unexpected places. I let him touch me lightly in return, over my clothes. Mostly he seemed to like stroking my hair and tracing his lips down the side of my neck. I could feel every bit of the heat of his desire, but he held it all back, using the lightest feather touches and treating me with an awe that bordered on reverent.
I started with spanking him over my knee, first with my hand then a ping pong paddle. It was a playful spanking so the spanks weren't very hard, just enough to leave him warm and a little pink. I added lots of rubbing and squeezing in between to keep the sensual feeling going. After the ping pong paddle I tried out the new brush I bought at the store. It's kind of a triangle shape with a narrow handle. Very ouchie, but there was too much delight in his voice when he said "ow" for me to think he was in real distress.
After he was nice and warmed up I had him get on his hands and knees on the floor. I got the plug out of the fridge and introduced him to the feel of ginger for the first time. I stood back watching him as it started to take effect. His reactions are always very muted but I could tell he was feeling something. The longer it was in the more he began to pant and wiggle. Every 45 seconds or so I'd pull the ginger out half way, turn it and shove it back in. Each time I did his reactions got immediately more intense.
Ice followed the ginger. I'd made several of those evil cylinders as well as some more traditional cubes. First I slipped one of the cylinders into him to cool the burn of the ginger, then I went to work on his skin with the cubes, spreading ice cold water over every inch of his skin. Starting at the back of his ears and working all the way down to his toes I traced the contours of his body with the ice. When each cube melted I slipped another cylinder inside him before using another cube on his skin. I spent an entire cube just running it in circles over his nipples. He really enjoyed that. Then naturally the erection that gave him needed tending to so I spent another cube on his shaft and balls.
I dried him off and we moved on to the flogging portion of the day. I did use my ceiling rig but instead of using the bar I just tied his wrists together. Before picking up the whips I spent some time toying with him, running my hands over his back and bottom, playing with his nipples some more, biting the side of his neck. He was purring by the time I was done.
I started with my white elk flogger, setting a slow rhythmic beat. Next came the suede cat and then the purple silicone flogger. With each whip the blows landed a little harder and faster. Every so often I stopped to rub, stroke and scratch in between the blows, sometimes kissing or biting the sides of his neck. We moved on to more intense whips, but stayed in the slow rhythm, with the lashes come just hard and fast enough to spread a warm glow.He really sank into it, moaning a bit and moving his body to be more open to the blows.
In the middle of an intense seen I get a type of tunnel vision where the only things I'm really aware of are the boy and my own body moving in time to the music in the background. We spent a long time in that space with everything else kind of grey on the edges. The funny thing is he seemed to be absorbing the music as well as the blows of the whip. That usually doesn't happen, but it was nice that it did. I do pick those playlists very carefully.
I finished up the flogging with a few hard but slow paced lashes from a belt and then the Victorian Governess strap. Those got to him, waking him just enough to come back to himself but not breaking the mood completely.
In honor of that favorite line of mine about how to win a game of cat and mouse (don't be the mouse) I scratched a mouse into his right shoulder with a bamboo skewer. I like leaving a bit of a brand on him and he takes a certain pride in wearing them. I told him next time I may well use something a little more lasting (though not permanent). He seemed to like that idea.
I untied him and began touching him again, pinching his nipples, stroking his back and bottom, kissing his neck and shoulders. He responded in kind, running his hands in my hair and nibbling on my own neck. Though he was firmer with his touch he still treated me with the same gentle caution, like I was a treasure he didn't want to break.
He was naked but I was still wearing the tight low cut blouse and short denim skirt I'd chosen for the session. I pushed him down onto the couch and straddled his lap. It was about time I marked my territory a bit more visibly, so I sunk my teeth into a fold of skin on his neck and sucked hard, pulling a nice nearly perfectly round purple mark to the surface.
There was more gentle biting and then I began slowly opening my blouse buttons. He helpfully took over and then his hands went right for the front clasp of my bra. He touched first, slowly and carefully before taking one into his mouth. He took his time, sucking, licking, blowing on each nipple in turn. He was very methodical about it, but not cold, more like a sculptor fully intent on shaping the clay in front of him, inspired but with the passion tightly focused. He acted as if there was nothing else to do in this world but spend all day touching me. I rocked on his lap, gasping and moaning quietly in his ear. Each noise from me pushed him to go a bit further, working harder to please me.
Unfortunately we started running out of time, but he didn't want to stop. Eventually though I got up and he started for his clothes, only to come back and kiss me, then began to touch and suckle again. I had to get a bit strict with him to finally get him dressed (by which point he was just a little late for an appointment) and even then it was very hard too cool off enough to keep our hands off each other.
Eventually I got him out the door and tried to catch my breath.
And that's all there was.
Ms. Betty
I've always enjoyed pulling a boy's pants down for a spanking, even if it's the light and fun type. Undressing a boy for a session is the same, only more potent. He's all the more helpless and vulnerable. I like a boy wearing a button up shirt when I'm going to undress him because I like to keep eye contact while taking his clothes off. It makes for a powerfully intimate moment.
So I stripped him, slowly. I helped myself to his body liberally as his clothes came off, a stroke here, an pinch there, nails raking over his skin in unexpected places. I let him touch me lightly in return, over my clothes. Mostly he seemed to like stroking my hair and tracing his lips down the side of my neck. I could feel every bit of the heat of his desire, but he held it all back, using the lightest feather touches and treating me with an awe that bordered on reverent.
I started with spanking him over my knee, first with my hand then a ping pong paddle. It was a playful spanking so the spanks weren't very hard, just enough to leave him warm and a little pink. I added lots of rubbing and squeezing in between to keep the sensual feeling going. After the ping pong paddle I tried out the new brush I bought at the store. It's kind of a triangle shape with a narrow handle. Very ouchie, but there was too much delight in his voice when he said "ow" for me to think he was in real distress.
After he was nice and warmed up I had him get on his hands and knees on the floor. I got the plug out of the fridge and introduced him to the feel of ginger for the first time. I stood back watching him as it started to take effect. His reactions are always very muted but I could tell he was feeling something. The longer it was in the more he began to pant and wiggle. Every 45 seconds or so I'd pull the ginger out half way, turn it and shove it back in. Each time I did his reactions got immediately more intense.
Ice followed the ginger. I'd made several of those evil cylinders as well as some more traditional cubes. First I slipped one of the cylinders into him to cool the burn of the ginger, then I went to work on his skin with the cubes, spreading ice cold water over every inch of his skin. Starting at the back of his ears and working all the way down to his toes I traced the contours of his body with the ice. When each cube melted I slipped another cylinder inside him before using another cube on his skin. I spent an entire cube just running it in circles over his nipples. He really enjoyed that. Then naturally the erection that gave him needed tending to so I spent another cube on his shaft and balls.
I dried him off and we moved on to the flogging portion of the day. I did use my ceiling rig but instead of using the bar I just tied his wrists together. Before picking up the whips I spent some time toying with him, running my hands over his back and bottom, playing with his nipples some more, biting the side of his neck. He was purring by the time I was done.
I started with my white elk flogger, setting a slow rhythmic beat. Next came the suede cat and then the purple silicone flogger. With each whip the blows landed a little harder and faster. Every so often I stopped to rub, stroke and scratch in between the blows, sometimes kissing or biting the sides of his neck. We moved on to more intense whips, but stayed in the slow rhythm, with the lashes come just hard and fast enough to spread a warm glow.He really sank into it, moaning a bit and moving his body to be more open to the blows.
In the middle of an intense seen I get a type of tunnel vision where the only things I'm really aware of are the boy and my own body moving in time to the music in the background. We spent a long time in that space with everything else kind of grey on the edges. The funny thing is he seemed to be absorbing the music as well as the blows of the whip. That usually doesn't happen, but it was nice that it did. I do pick those playlists very carefully.
I finished up the flogging with a few hard but slow paced lashes from a belt and then the Victorian Governess strap. Those got to him, waking him just enough to come back to himself but not breaking the mood completely.
In honor of that favorite line of mine about how to win a game of cat and mouse (don't be the mouse) I scratched a mouse into his right shoulder with a bamboo skewer. I like leaving a bit of a brand on him and he takes a certain pride in wearing them. I told him next time I may well use something a little more lasting (though not permanent). He seemed to like that idea.
I untied him and began touching him again, pinching his nipples, stroking his back and bottom, kissing his neck and shoulders. He responded in kind, running his hands in my hair and nibbling on my own neck. Though he was firmer with his touch he still treated me with the same gentle caution, like I was a treasure he didn't want to break.
He was naked but I was still wearing the tight low cut blouse and short denim skirt I'd chosen for the session. I pushed him down onto the couch and straddled his lap. It was about time I marked my territory a bit more visibly, so I sunk my teeth into a fold of skin on his neck and sucked hard, pulling a nice nearly perfectly round purple mark to the surface.
There was more gentle biting and then I began slowly opening my blouse buttons. He helpfully took over and then his hands went right for the front clasp of my bra. He touched first, slowly and carefully before taking one into his mouth. He took his time, sucking, licking, blowing on each nipple in turn. He was very methodical about it, but not cold, more like a sculptor fully intent on shaping the clay in front of him, inspired but with the passion tightly focused. He acted as if there was nothing else to do in this world but spend all day touching me. I rocked on his lap, gasping and moaning quietly in his ear. Each noise from me pushed him to go a bit further, working harder to please me.
Unfortunately we started running out of time, but he didn't want to stop. Eventually though I got up and he started for his clothes, only to come back and kiss me, then began to touch and suckle again. I had to get a bit strict with him to finally get him dressed (by which point he was just a little late for an appointment) and even then it was very hard too cool off enough to keep our hands off each other.
Eventually I got him out the door and tried to catch my breath.
And that's all there was.
Ms. Betty
Monday, January 4, 2010
Fun with Google
According to the ancient and wise sacred teachings, among all the horrors of hell none is more terrible than the shade of pink on the walls.
This has led to a descriptive term used by artists, decorators and Discordians: "hell-wall pink."
"Hell-wall pink" refers to that special shade of pink somewhere between Pepto Bismol and that exactly wrong sea color that mars otherwise perfect planets.
I had planned to produce a sample swatch. However, as well all know the internet is the domain of the Goddess of Chaos, so if you type "hell-wall pink" into your search engine this is what you get.
I'm not in any way a gamer myself, but it seems everyone I know is.
And I married one, so while I can see the humor in most of these clocks, one is the hands down winner as far as I'm concerned:
Ms. Betty
This has led to a descriptive term used by artists, decorators and Discordians: "hell-wall pink."
"Hell-wall pink" refers to that special shade of pink somewhere between Pepto Bismol and that exactly wrong sea color that mars otherwise perfect planets.
I had planned to produce a sample swatch. However, as well all know the internet is the domain of the Goddess of Chaos, so if you type "hell-wall pink" into your search engine this is what you get.
I'm not in any way a gamer myself, but it seems everyone I know is.
And I married one, so while I can see the humor in most of these clocks, one is the hands down winner as far as I'm concerned:
Ms. Betty
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