Well, sometimes there is a bit of a wait, actually.
The naughty boys (and girls) of Denver do keep me busy and sometimes it can be a day or two before everyone gets his or her turn for some bare bottom attention over my knee.
And, of course, the wait is almost a punishment in itself. The nerves, the dread, the uncertainty...
Which begs the age old question: is it better to know exactly what you have coming or to face a bit more uneasiness and yet still have hope that it might not be as bad as you think?
Is it enough to just know that you're going to be scolded, your pants will be pulled down and going to get a very thorough spanking that is going to leave your poor little bottom very red, very hot, and you very, very sorry?
Or do you need to know that I'm going to spank you with my wooden hairbrush? A ruler? A stingy little paddle? Maybe even your own belt?
Do you really want to know?
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Sunday, June 30, 2013
I'm Finally on Facebook
Those who know me are well aware that I am wary of social media as a whole. I barely have time to keep up with real life, let alone a virtual one.
But given the changes at Blogger, I no longer feel comfortable linking directly to my other web content.
So now you'll find it on facebook.
I may even update the page once in awhile...
Friday, April 5, 2013
Cab Ride Through Kink
Imagine a guy getting into
the back of a taxi.
“Where to?” says the
driver.
“Um, I don't know,” says
the guy. “I just wanna go for a ride.”
“Ok. You don't wanna go
anywhere specific?”
“Not really. I mean I
might want dinner or something, maybe.”
“So should I take you to a
restaurant?”
“I don't know.”
“How about a movie? You
like movies?”
“Not sure. I've never
really been to one.”
“Ok, well how about a
concert.”
“Haven't tried that
either, but I don't think it sounds fun.”
“Hm... well we can't take
a trip unless you have a destination. Are you sure you don't have
someplace in mind?”
“Not really.”
“You want me to pick?”
“Well maybe, but what if I
don't like what you choose?”
“Ok, tell you what... you
said you might be hungry, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But you don't want to go
to a restaurant.”
“Well, not exactly. I
might want to. I just don't know.”
“How about if we drive by?
You can go in, look around, maybe try a bite or two and see if you
like it.”
“I don't think I want to.”
“Buddy, I can't take you
somewhere if you don't know where you want to go.”
“But I know where I want
to go.”
“Ok, so where do you want
to go?”
“Out.”
“Out's a big place. You're
gonna have to get a little more specific.”
“Well, someplace in the
same city... maybe.”
“Ok, so somewhere in this
city. But it's a big city.”
“Wait, let's not limit
ourselves. Going to the next city might be kinda fun.”
“So you maybe want to go
to a different city? That's a long ride, pal.”
“Yeah, you're right. Maybe
I should stay here.”
“Ok, so any idea yet about
where you wanna go?”
“You're the driver,
shouldn't you know?”
“Buddy, you got any idea
how many people take cabs every day? Every single one of them wants
to go someplace different. If everyone wanted to go the same place
they'd all take the bus.”
“Wait, so you don't know
where I need to go?”
“Well, I can make
suggestions, but it's your trip. You gotta tell me what you're trying
to do.”
“I just want some fresh
air.”
“The park then, maybe?”
“Maybe. But it's cold
there. And it's dark.”
“Tell me again why you
called a cab.”
“I wanna go.... somewhere.
I think.”
“Ok so what made you want
to go somewhere?”
“I don't know.”
“You aren't hungry?”
“Not really.”
“Don't need to shop for
anything?”
“No.”
“Don't want to go visit
anybody?”
“Nope.”
“So you wanna just drive
around for awhile? See the sights? Maybe see if something strikes
your fancy?”
“No, I want to have like
the best most amazing cab ride ever.”
“Without knowing where you
want to go.”
“Look, you're the driver.
You really should know.”
“I told you, people go
different places. And you don't want to go the wrong place.”
“well don't you know the
right place?”
“Not unless you know what
kind a place you need.”
“Don't you just drive
people wherever?”
“Sometimes, but most of
the time someone has at least some idea of where they wanna go before
they get in the cab.”
“Oh, well I've never taken
a cab before. I really don't know everywhere cabs go.”
“but something made you
call one.”
“Yeah, I just wanted to
try it.”
“Ok, so what made you want
to try it?”
“I don't know.”
“Did you see pictures of
someone in a cab? Maybe a movie that made a cab ride seem exciting?”
“Not really.”
“So you just woke up one
day and decided you wanted to take a cab.”
“Yeah.”
“Ever dream about it? Have
fantasies? Do you think about taking a cab?”
“Not really.”
“So then why did you call
one?”
“I just saw the ad and
thought I should.”
“You know how taking a cab
works, right?”
“No.”
“Want me to explain?”
“You don't really have to.
I'm not interested.”
“Ok, so maybe we'll go
around the block, tell me to stop if you see someplace you want to
go.”
“I don't want to have to
tell you how to drive me. You're supposed to know. That's what I'm
paying you for.”
“No. You're paying me to
know how to get to a specific place and drive you there safely. I
decide how we get there, but you gotta tell me where you wanna go.”
“but I don't know any
places to go.”
“Then why did you call the
cab?”
“I just wanted to.”
“Ok. I would love to make
you happy and take you on the best cab ride ever, but if you don't
have some idea where you want to go we could end up driving around
all night and never find anyplace you like.”
“Don't you have places
most people want to go?”
“Yeah, but I suggested all
those already and you didn't like any of them.”
“I thought the point of
taking a cab was to let someone else decide where to go.”
“Yes and no. You can pick
a destination, or we can pick it together, or I can pick it for you,
but you have to have at least some idea of what kind of place you'd
like to end up.”
“Wait, so you're saying I
have to know where I want to go before you can take me there?”
“Pretty much.”
“So people don't all go to
the same places?”
“Not usually. One person
might want to go to a bar, another might want to go to the art
museum, and a third might want to go to the grocery store. It all
depends on what they need.”
“And they have to tell
you? You don't just know?”
“No, I don't. Now if I
know someone a long time and drive em around a lot I start to know
where they like to go and can show up at their door before they even
know they want a ride. But I can't do that with someone I've never
met before. People are just too different.”
“But can't you just
guess?”
“I can, but I might get it
totally wrong, and that could be bad. If I take someone who wants to
go to the art museum to the bar they might get in a fight and get
hurt, or if I take the guy who wants to go to the bar to art museum
he's just gonna get bored. And if I take the person who wants to go
to the grocery store to the airport, they're not gonna get any food
and then they'll still be hungry. I won't do a good job and they'll
be unhappy.”
“Man, this is way too
complicated. I just wanna go for a ride.”
“So tell me where to.”
“But if you can't figure
it out, how am I supposed to?”
“Buddy, you're the only
one who can.”
“Hm...”
The man thinks for several
long moments.
“Are you sure you're a cab
driver?”
The moral of this story:
You have to know what you
want before someone can give it to you!!!
Monday, April 1, 2013
Green Beers = Red Bottoms
Yes, Saint Patrick's Day was a couple of weeks ago now, but as my darling boys know, sometimes I get very, very busy.
And while there may be a delay in dealing with misbehavior, it will be dealt with.
To me, there are few misbehaviors more serious than those that involve over-indulging in alcohol.
Binge Drinking has become a serious health issue in our current society, and the dangers are numerous.
Even if one is wise enough not to drive, the risk to oneself and others is far too great to ignore.
In fact, binge drinking can be as, if not more, dangerous than being a daily alcohol abuser.
This is behavior that is not to be tolerated.
It's bad enough when an ignorant college student engages in such a risky practice, but when a man old enough to know better does it, it's inexcusable.
And if it's a repeat offense? Well, heaven help the boy facing me under those circumstances.
I gave a naughty boy a spanking under just such conditions today.
It was NOT a fun spanking. It was long, hard, bottom-scorching, tear-inducing agony. But it was very well deserved.
I am never overly cruel, but I am very strict if the occasion warrants it. This occasion did.
And I treated it with just severity.
We began with a long lecture on the risks of binge drinking and some pointed questions about how he could possible not know any better, or be foolish enough to carry on anyway when he did know.
Like most, at the time the fun seemed immediate and the consequences only a hazy future possibility and so he chose unwisely.
And paid a steep price for the folly.
We began with a long bare bottom spanking over my knee. My hand, a hairbrush, my nasty long handled hardwood spoon, a short leather strap, and a small paddle all took their turns scorching his tender skin. In between the swats I continued to lecture and question. Each swat brought home a point with with a shuddering smack.
After a good 10 minutes over my knee I let him up. His bottom glowed red hot from the hard, fast spanking.
He stood in the corner, pants down, hands on his head, thinking about his predicament while I prepared the room for the next phase of his punishment.
The strop.
"Pure evil", is how most of my wayward charges describe this doubled over length of latigo leather attached to a wooden handle.
They have a point. It's a heavy, wide, strap with a vicious snap as it lands on unprotected skin. The sound of it bounces off my walls like a rifle shot.
This is a strap reserved for only the most serious offenses.
I called my bad boy out of the corner.
He cringed when he saw me holding the strop. He knew it would be bad.
I didn't disappoint.
More lecturing as the strap cracked against his already sore bottom. He yelped as he kicked his feet and wriggled his hips from side to side under the licks. I didn't count the number, just keep going until I heard his quiet sobs coming at a steady pace.
And then it was time for the finale.
10 lashes. The hardest he'd felt yet. Each bad enough to knock the breath out of him.
But just to make sure we drove the point home, I added one more little twist.
After every lash I required him to say aloud that "green beers equal red bottoms."
10 times he said it. 10 times the strap bit into him. 10 times he cried out as it burned.
And 10 times he learned the heavy price for irresponsible behavior.
I don't think he'll be repeating it any time soon.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Happy Equinox, Everyone!
Ah, Spring has arrived at last, and Easter is just around the corner.
Soon it will be that special time of year again:
Yes, that's right, switch gathering season is almost here.
Now if only I had a Bunny to whip through the fields in order to ensure a fertile harvest....
Soon it will be that special time of year again:
Yes, that's right, switch gathering season is almost here.
Now if only I had a Bunny to whip through the fields in order to ensure a fertile harvest....
Monday, February 4, 2013
Hearing Things Again
Last time I talked about spanking in music, I mentioned Harry Belafonte's song "Mama, Look at Bubu."
This time I found a slightly more vague reference (I think) in The Shins' song "It's Only Life".
Really now?
I know it's not explicit, but if you have the spanko gene how can a certain image not form in your head when you hear those words?
Now if they'd said "crying on my shoulder" that would be one thing, but using "lap" gives a definite impression.
And how many fierce and brave boys and girls have been tamed over a strict knee? How many have baited and baited spankers, never believing they would actually spank?
And how many firm hands have turned lives around and made them better.
Yes, I definitely think there's a bit of implied discipline in this song.
P.S. Does James Mercer remind anyone else of Mick Fleetwood just a little bit?
This time I found a slightly more vague reference (I think) in The Shins' song "It's Only Life".
"You used to be such a lion
Before you got into all this crying on my lap
Back when you thought I'd never get this far"
Really now?
I know it's not explicit, but if you have the spanko gene how can a certain image not form in your head when you hear those words?
Now if they'd said "crying on my shoulder" that would be one thing, but using "lap" gives a definite impression.
And how many fierce and brave boys and girls have been tamed over a strict knee? How many have baited and baited spankers, never believing they would actually spank?
And how many firm hands have turned lives around and made them better.
Yes, I definitely think there's a bit of implied discipline in this song.
P.S. Does James Mercer remind anyone else of Mick Fleetwood just a little bit?
Monday, January 28, 2013
Razor Strops are Still Alive and Well!!!
Earlier this month a friend had a birthday. He really needed an old fashioned oil stone for knife sharpening, so I went looking for one on the internet.
And what did I find?
A listing for razor strops, right there on the site. Real razor stops.
I just couldn't believe it!
The pictures on the site weren't very good, so I don't know if they would actually be any good for spanking, but I am dying to get one an find out!
And what did I find?
A listing for razor strops, right there on the site. Real razor stops.
I just couldn't believe it!
The pictures on the site weren't very good, so I don't know if they would actually be any good for spanking, but I am dying to get one an find out!
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Happy LOL day!
Yes, I am still out there.
And according to my analytics, you are, too.
So please take a moment and comment.
I'd like to get to know some of you!
~Ms. Betty
And according to my analytics, you are, too.
So please take a moment and comment.
I'd like to get to know some of you!
~Ms. Betty
Sunday, November 6, 2011
When behaving badly works in your favor
Regular readers of this blog* know that I work for a thrift store.
This week our corporate office handed down the directive that we are supposed to create a fancy, magazine-worthy holiday table setting and submit pictures to be used to promote the stores.
Oh and if we create the best one we win a prize.
Ok, fine, no problem. Only the boss is a bit high strung, impulsive and indecisive and after myself and another girl working on this for hours on end this past week we still don't even have a table cloth.
This morning I finally lost my patience with the whole thing, handed the boss the stack of 5 more rejected plates (she's rejected 17 different china patterns-- every single set of matching dishes in the store) and told her "you know what, you need to find someone else to help you with this. I'm going to do my job."
Then I walked away and left her standing there.
Later I heard from the other girl that the boss was deeply offended by my doing that.
I don't care.
At this point it just is not worth the stress or aggravation to keep wasting my time with a project that I cannot possibly succeed with.
And I don't feel it is unreasonable to expect my manager to be a mature adult and have reasonable expectations, like understanding that we can't conjure things out of thin air and that what's on the shelf is all we've got to work with.
Besides, it's my bloody camera and I'm under no obligation to volunteer my personal property for use so if she wants pictures she can damn well act like an adult and behave in a civilized manner.
All of which I think she's realized because there was an immediate and dramatic change in her behavior.
And I didn't even have to use a paddle.
~Ms. Betty
*(Do I still have any of those? I know I am not the most frequent poster!)
This week our corporate office handed down the directive that we are supposed to create a fancy, magazine-worthy holiday table setting and submit pictures to be used to promote the stores.
Oh and if we create the best one we win a prize.
Ok, fine, no problem. Only the boss is a bit high strung, impulsive and indecisive and after myself and another girl working on this for hours on end this past week we still don't even have a table cloth.
This morning I finally lost my patience with the whole thing, handed the boss the stack of 5 more rejected plates (she's rejected 17 different china patterns-- every single set of matching dishes in the store) and told her "you know what, you need to find someone else to help you with this. I'm going to do my job."
Then I walked away and left her standing there.
Later I heard from the other girl that the boss was deeply offended by my doing that.
I don't care.
At this point it just is not worth the stress or aggravation to keep wasting my time with a project that I cannot possibly succeed with.
And I don't feel it is unreasonable to expect my manager to be a mature adult and have reasonable expectations, like understanding that we can't conjure things out of thin air and that what's on the shelf is all we've got to work with.
Besides, it's my bloody camera and I'm under no obligation to volunteer my personal property for use so if she wants pictures she can damn well act like an adult and behave in a civilized manner.
All of which I think she's realized because there was an immediate and dramatic change in her behavior.
And I didn't even have to use a paddle.
~Ms. Betty
*(Do I still have any of those? I know I am not the most frequent poster!)
Monday, October 17, 2011
You cannot server to masters, but can you love two teachers?
Ok so things have been a bit odd in Ms. Betty's world lately.
There's spanking and kinky stuff going on, though not much.
Over the past year I have spent a lot of solitary hours exploring my spiritual path and potential avenues that were not open to me before.
(it's amazing what happens when one finally has the peace and quiet to read the things one has always wished to read.)
Recently someone asked if all the quiet of being alone bothered me. It doesn't. I welcome the silence and the time it gives me to think deep thoughts.
I am busier than ever in some ways, but internally I have a new calm that is making the chaos of outer life much easier to manage. I am in the eye of the storm, no longer being tossed around in it's winds... well most of the time, anyway.
I no longer need to justify, rationalize, explain. I simply let things be as they are and accept them as the come.
So when I woke up this morning with a name that seemed familiar ringing in my ears I did not ignore the sign as I once would have. Instead I googled the name. Recognition clicked. Still, I did not think she was actually the person I sought. So I clicked through some links and found another name. And there I found what I think I was supposed to find.
And now comes the dilemma. I have a teacher I have chosen to work with, a woman I admire and respect whom I feel a bond to. She has my trust.
And yet I find myself drawn also to work with this new teacher.
I see a benefit to me, if I can validate what I already know by getting the same information from another source in another way then it is easier to have confidence in my new knowledge.
But if their ways are very different, if they conflict, can I reconcile both?
Am I somehow being disloyal or disrespectful to my first teacher by working with a second as well?
Rationally I know there is no reason not to seek more knowledge, I realize my own teacher worked with many teachers over the years.... But it still feels like I am telling my first teacher "sorry, you weren't good enough" and that's not at all the case. She's been spectacular.
Still hers is only one perspective on a giant subject... I'd like to see what the view is like from the other side of the mountain. I think she'll understand that.
There's spanking and kinky stuff going on, though not much.
Over the past year I have spent a lot of solitary hours exploring my spiritual path and potential avenues that were not open to me before.
(it's amazing what happens when one finally has the peace and quiet to read the things one has always wished to read.)
Recently someone asked if all the quiet of being alone bothered me. It doesn't. I welcome the silence and the time it gives me to think deep thoughts.
I am busier than ever in some ways, but internally I have a new calm that is making the chaos of outer life much easier to manage. I am in the eye of the storm, no longer being tossed around in it's winds... well most of the time, anyway.
I no longer need to justify, rationalize, explain. I simply let things be as they are and accept them as the come.
So when I woke up this morning with a name that seemed familiar ringing in my ears I did not ignore the sign as I once would have. Instead I googled the name. Recognition clicked. Still, I did not think she was actually the person I sought. So I clicked through some links and found another name. And there I found what I think I was supposed to find.
And now comes the dilemma. I have a teacher I have chosen to work with, a woman I admire and respect whom I feel a bond to. She has my trust.
And yet I find myself drawn also to work with this new teacher.
I see a benefit to me, if I can validate what I already know by getting the same information from another source in another way then it is easier to have confidence in my new knowledge.
But if their ways are very different, if they conflict, can I reconcile both?
Am I somehow being disloyal or disrespectful to my first teacher by working with a second as well?
Rationally I know there is no reason not to seek more knowledge, I realize my own teacher worked with many teachers over the years.... But it still feels like I am telling my first teacher "sorry, you weren't good enough" and that's not at all the case. She's been spectacular.
Still hers is only one perspective on a giant subject... I'd like to see what the view is like from the other side of the mountain. I think she'll understand that.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Thoughts on Teddy Bears
I don't get into politics.
As certain sore-bottomed bunnies now, political talk, especially worked up, mouth-foaming, ranting political argument is a good way to get me very, very annoyed.
But as I was putting puzzles away yesterday a thought struck me that I can't quite shake.
Once upon a time they tried to mock Theodore Roosevelt for standing up for a moral principle.
And in the process inadvertently created one of the world's most universally recognized and beloved symbols of warmth and comfort in human history.
As certain sore-bottomed bunnies now, political talk, especially worked up, mouth-foaming, ranting political argument is a good way to get me very, very annoyed.
But as I was putting puzzles away yesterday a thought struck me that I can't quite shake.
Once upon a time they tried to mock Theodore Roosevelt for standing up for a moral principle.
And in the process inadvertently created one of the world's most universally recognized and beloved symbols of warmth and comfort in human history.
Kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Where did my life go?
One does have to wonder...
Oh, I know where part of it is. He's out wandering the streets of Denver after everyone else got as fed up with the manipulating and mooching as I did. It's hard to think of someone I once loved, someone I married being out there in those circumstances, but long ago I realized I could not fix him. He had to fix himself. He has chosen not to, and this is the result. I can feel compassion but I cannot help him. He has to choose to pull himself up. Maybe he will. I hope he does. But I am powerless to force him.
And then there is all that work. I am still doing two things, thrift store by day, phone sex diva by nite. (Well my calls aren't really sex, they are very similar to the real time sessions you read about here-- or used to read about here. That is, after all, what this post is about.) The phone job isn't just about taking calls. You tweet, you blog, you email, you flirt. (And sometimes you get to be someone who isn't you at all! I am greatly enjoying that!)
But it does keep one busy.
It's been a year now since my marriage ended. 18 months since the decision to end it was made.
At that time my life was a whirlwind of activity and play partners. But now it's almost at a stand still.
Sure, I still have pc but mostly he behaves. Bunny is busy with family and work in Tennessee, and there's a great guy in Montana who knows exactly the right thing to say at exactly the right time, but he doesn't get here very often. And the things I do with him are very different from the type of activity I usually record here. They're darker, more brutal, and there's no spanking.
Yes, you read that right.
In fact I am not spanking anyone at all. Oh, I could be, I know that all it would take would be a snap of my fingers and there would be a line of eager boys at the door. I just haven't wanted to go find them.
No, the fact is I've rather enjoyed being solitary. I like the quiet. I like being able to do the things I want to do when I want to do them. I like being able to read without background noise or interruption.
I'm exploring new areas of my spiritual path that work better when I have time alone to mediate and experiment.
So really I don't much feel the need to have anyone right now. Lance finds his way down here about every six weeks. Right now that's enough.
Except, I realized the other day that I miss spanking. So I suppose fairly soon here I will once again have to venture out in the world and find someone to paddle.
But not just yet. Right now I am still enjoying my bubble of isolation.
Oh, I know where part of it is. He's out wandering the streets of Denver after everyone else got as fed up with the manipulating and mooching as I did. It's hard to think of someone I once loved, someone I married being out there in those circumstances, but long ago I realized I could not fix him. He had to fix himself. He has chosen not to, and this is the result. I can feel compassion but I cannot help him. He has to choose to pull himself up. Maybe he will. I hope he does. But I am powerless to force him.
And then there is all that work. I am still doing two things, thrift store by day, phone sex diva by nite. (Well my calls aren't really sex, they are very similar to the real time sessions you read about here-- or used to read about here. That is, after all, what this post is about.) The phone job isn't just about taking calls. You tweet, you blog, you email, you flirt. (And sometimes you get to be someone who isn't you at all! I am greatly enjoying that!)
But it does keep one busy.
It's been a year now since my marriage ended. 18 months since the decision to end it was made.
At that time my life was a whirlwind of activity and play partners. But now it's almost at a stand still.
Sure, I still have pc but mostly he behaves. Bunny is busy with family and work in Tennessee, and there's a great guy in Montana who knows exactly the right thing to say at exactly the right time, but he doesn't get here very often. And the things I do with him are very different from the type of activity I usually record here. They're darker, more brutal, and there's no spanking.
Yes, you read that right.
In fact I am not spanking anyone at all. Oh, I could be, I know that all it would take would be a snap of my fingers and there would be a line of eager boys at the door. I just haven't wanted to go find them.
No, the fact is I've rather enjoyed being solitary. I like the quiet. I like being able to do the things I want to do when I want to do them. I like being able to read without background noise or interruption.
I'm exploring new areas of my spiritual path that work better when I have time alone to mediate and experiment.
So really I don't much feel the need to have anyone right now. Lance finds his way down here about every six weeks. Right now that's enough.
Except, I realized the other day that I miss spanking. So I suppose fairly soon here I will once again have to venture out in the world and find someone to paddle.
But not just yet. Right now I am still enjoying my bubble of isolation.
Monday, August 22, 2011
The Zen of Flyswatting
Certain bunnies among you and others know that I can do just about anything with a flyswatter.
Except swat flies. lol.
Or it was that way, until I changed my entire approach to the task.
Most people attack swatting a fly like the Mighty Casey going up to bat. We all think the harder, the faster, the stronger we swing the better the results.
But, in the words of an old song, "it ain't necessarily so!"
It doesn't take all that much force to smash a fly. They are, after all, tiny things.
But they are fast. In fact, flies are genetically coded to react to reflex to certain types of movement, and they can react much faster to those movement than we can react to theirs.
But only certain movements.
So if you very slowly place a flyswatter on edge somewhere near a fly they ignore it. Then just slowly press the blade down.
smoosh!
They never know what happened.
It's a good lesson to remember. You don't always have to be your strongest or fastest to get results.
Oh and btw, the same can often apply to giving an effective spanking!
Except swat flies. lol.
Or it was that way, until I changed my entire approach to the task.
Most people attack swatting a fly like the Mighty Casey going up to bat. We all think the harder, the faster, the stronger we swing the better the results.
But, in the words of an old song, "it ain't necessarily so!"
It doesn't take all that much force to smash a fly. They are, after all, tiny things.
But they are fast. In fact, flies are genetically coded to react to reflex to certain types of movement, and they can react much faster to those movement than we can react to theirs.
But only certain movements.
So if you very slowly place a flyswatter on edge somewhere near a fly they ignore it. Then just slowly press the blade down.
smoosh!
They never know what happened.
It's a good lesson to remember. You don't always have to be your strongest or fastest to get results.
Oh and btw, the same can often apply to giving an effective spanking!
Monday, May 30, 2011
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Quite a night, and a thank you to our best of the best
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
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, 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
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