Lil Bunny's Rabbit Den

WIRED FOR STORY TIME

2010-03-29T14:57:00.000-07:00

Mistress was so happy, and sweet. I guess that should have triggered a 'bunny alarm", but I was so happy to be able to talk to her, and spend time again, that I just basked in the glow, and was lulled into her "pounce". After a bit of small talk she told me she had the new book for storytime "Voyage To The Bunny Planet". That I needed to get my pants off, four closepins, and get them on my thing. EEP! I had almost forgotten the "teeth" in storytime. I made small talk as I scurried to find four clips in my implement bag. She was having none of that. I was told to "Hurry it up." Ooh! Her strict voice! It melts in my heart, and puts a chill down my back at the same time. I didn't know whether to whimper, or purr like a cat, but I hurried it up!

The story was sweet, and so was her voice in the telling of it. I could see her lovely copper hair, and slender little hands holding the book. There was a gentle smile in her voice. I was one happy bunny. Between personal situations in both of our lives, and losing the last book, we hadn't done storytime in ages!! All too soon it was over, and I was told "I'd better get those clips off." I had forgotten how much they hurt coming off. I gasped as I was reminded by the first one. I wanted to hurry, and get the rest off, but dreaded each one too much. Ooh! the burn! And down there too! EEP! I'm sure I made way more fuss than was necessary, but I do love to "sing" for Mistress. I didn't know it yet, but I was about to sing an opera.

I had anticipated a bit more pleasant conversation, and a "Goodnite little bunny", but Mistress had a completely different agenda. "Now Little Bunny mine I want you to reach into that little bag of yours, and get me out something loud." (POUNCE!) I was safely tucked away in the new bunny den. No privacy issues. No need to be quiet. No witnesses. I was doomed. Ooh.

I was beside myself with excitement! I dug around in my bag, prudently rejecting a couple of "Louisville sluggers", and selected one of those paddleball paddles. I knew as long as it had been that Mistress would want something she could swing "awhile", and I also knew that they are one of her favorites. The song "Hurts so good" was playing in the back of my mind.

"OK ." She said brightly. "Let's start out with fifty good hard swats on both cheecks of that little bottom of yours." This room is fourteen feet wide, and almost thirty feet long, with hardwood floors. It has the acoustics of a church. That little thin paddle sounded like a pistol shot! The room exploded with sound. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "OWIE!!" ...God, it stung like fire! I was in full voice from the begining, and fifty seemed like a very big number. I began to whimper between ow ow owies, and do the paddle dance. The song in the back of my mind was begining to change.

Mistress was just getting started. I was immediatley given fifty more on my now hot cheeks. I was soon crying. I became lost in the sound, and fire that thin little paddle was generating. Mistress made some clever conversation between that, and the next series, but all I heard was the number twenty five more, and each side... I was getting it. What ever I replied was very meek, and tearfull, punctuated with sniffs. Mistress was not finnished hurting her bunny yet.

I was told to scurry, and bring back the wire hand. One of Mistress's favorite new bunny scorchers. It is one of a pair of wire frames, made of coat hanger wire, to strech rubber gloves on to dry. God it hurts. It was time for the little fat bunny to sing. I was given twelve hard swats on each side with that evil evil thing. It wasn't "loud", but I was. I was in full voice. Each searing swat bringing out it's own note from me. I got scorched.

Later, my red hot bottom sitting on a hard wooden chair, I soothed, and comforted by my sweet mistress.We were happy. We were "home".

OW! HAPPY 0W! BIRTH OW! DAY OW! MISTRESS

2009-06-23T17:34:00.000-07:00

I thought our conversation for the night was over when Mistress returned to the subject of her birthday. I knew what was in the wings. (EEP!) In her sweet as honey, teasing voice, I was asked if my door was closed, and invited to get the candy strap out of my bag. Ooh. Mistress wanted to play, and with one of the most painfull implements in my bag.
As soon as I was on my bed, pants off, she bagan. I was given thirty-one hard strokes on each cheek of my bared bottom. I was whimpering, and gasping right out of the gate. I had forgotten just how much that piece of braided plastic jump rope hurt!! OH GOD! Every stroke left a vivid searing stripe on my wriggling round butt.. It seemed to last forever. I was crying long before the last one. But Mistress was just getting started.
“Let’s see if we can dig out that groove strap Little Bunny” I quickly moved to comply rummaging through the paddles, rulers, and implements of..er..mass? Destruction. I found the lethal thing. (For those of you who don’t know, the “groove strap” is a tiny hollow piece of rubber tubing with a very flexible hard plastic inside of it. I found the two separate pieces, and put them together when I was still switching. I had intended to use it to spank women in “the groove” so to speak, thus the name.) God it hurts!
Mistress put it to use striping the backs of my thighs. Thirty- one more strokes! I was moaning, and crying out from the first fiery lash. I tossed my head from side. I thrashed on my bed. I fought to keep the stroke count as the fiery lines mounted on my bare legs. I finished , and lay sobbing on my bed. But Mistress had one final surprise for her, now very submissive boy. She just said one word, and I knew what was coming..
“Fly swatter.” “yes ma’am.” I replied, my voice a whisper.
OHGODOHGODOHGODOHGOD…My thoughts racing, I dug it out. “I have it Ma’am.” I told her in a trembling voice.
“Good.” came that honey voice. of her's ”Thirty-one on that shaft. Medium strength.”
I moaned loudly with each one. Fire, and lighting rained on my most sensitive place. I was getting hard by the third swat. It hurt SO GOOD! I jerked with each one, and cried out. OOH! OH GOD! OOOOOOOOH!
I was like a rock. Which, of course, made it hurt worse. I again fought to keep count, almost lost in the pain/pleasure, and wave of submission I was riding. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.
Finally it was over. I was sitting on my hard wooden chair, basking in the red striped heat of Mistress’s pleasure. I wished her a happy birthday. She thanked me, and as she was saying goodnight, she said. “I know what you like to do with a sore thing.” “Goodnight little bunny.” MMMMMM. She was right, it was time to start tickling my sore thing. I came twice before I lay down to sleep.

BUNNY

ORDER RESTORED

2009-06-08T23:25:00.000-07:00

We had disagreed the night before. Never a wise thing for me to do. And when the phone had clicked dead in my ear, I knew I had taken it too far. I expected to be ignored soundly for a day or two for my cheek. Work, fatigue, life had woven it's way into the distance between us. I hadn't been touched by Mistress in play, or discipline, in some time. I returned to my book for an hour or two, and went to bed.

As soon as I heard her voice on the phone I knew I was in trouble. No goodmorning, no hello.
"Good your awake." she said crisply. "Are the folks still in bed?" I meekly mumbled that they were, expecting to hear her tell me to shut my door, or get an implement from my bag. I got another surprise. "Go cut me a switch." A thrill of fear went thru me as I hurried to obey. Her tone brooked no nonsense. I thew my clothes on, and leaving my morning coffee steaming on my desk, scurried out into the cool of the morning.

I reported back with a long supple switch a good two feet long, and was grilled about the time I was taking. What was I doing? Was I stalling? Ooh. I knew Iwas fixing to get it. I explained that I hadn't been dressed when she called. "I see." She said. "Well now you can get undressed again." I was stripped completely naked, and told to "get my little bottom on that bed." The switch began it's work. Fire rained down on me. she wore me out in increments of fifty on each cheek. I began to whimper.

After what seemed an age she left my burning backside, and began working over the backs of my thighs. OH GOD!! That was worse! The switch burned lines of fire down my legs. I began using the word please. It was ignored. I began to cry. Mistress alternated thighs, again in groups of fifty. " OH GOD!" I cried. 'Please?" I began to lose track of time. Lost in a rythum of pain.

And then she was talking to me. Asking me questions. I sobbed, and tryed to keep my answers down to yes, or no ma'am. That never works. Mistress has specific answers she expects to hear. I got one wrong, and found myself on the wrong end of the switch again. Fifty more on my flaming tail..then fifty more.. "OH GOD!" I wailed. "Don't you oh god me!" she answered,
moving back to my legs. I finally just broke down sobbed. And that was what Mistress had been waiting for. She continued a bit to make her point, and then it was over.

"Do you argue with me?" "Do you give me attitude?" I got all the questions right this time. Order had been restored.

Thank you Ma'am

from your happy, sore, very submissive Bunny

ACED ON THE PADDLEFIELD

2009-06-05T10:31:00.000-07:00

We had visited where Mistress works. I was introduced to a few co-workers , and sent off to find the book section. I went looking at the stuffed bunnies first (eep eep), and then the toys, and games. Being a collector at heart (aka -packrat), I quickly found myself in the knick knack isle. There amongst the small bookshelves,carved boxes,and picture frames..etc, I found the "ace of spades". It was 4 or 5 inches wide, 10 inches long, and a good inch thick. It was a wooden paddle shaped like an ace of spades! I knew Mistress's eyes would light up when she saw this. I smacked my palm experimentally with it..ooh. it stung!

Later, as we made our way to her apt. in the cool Denver evening I spotted an old familiar friend, Orion was sailing low in the western sky. We were happy! Enjoying being together, discussing our "treasures", and our day. I saw that mischevious gleam in Mistress's eyes as she took out her new toy. As we crossed an asphault parking lot she began playfully swatting my backside with it. Mmmmm. It stung so good! We walked we talked, she smacked. By the time we had crossed the street into the vacant field by her apts. the sting had become serious. And so we crossed the "paddlefield" as it is now forever named. Mistress making her bunny hop, and yip with an ever increasing flurry of paddle swats. At one point she took my elbow, and stopped me. And I got a good spanking standing there under the stars. Ooh..that thing stings! She laid it on good too. By the time we got home my butt was red hot! But mistress wasn't finnished with me. I soon found myself bent over her couch, pants taken down, where I was soundly spanked to tears with a leather strap! OUCH!

Sure does make a bunny wish he was in Denver.....

THE SECOND CANING

2009-05-10T12:57:00.000-07:00

The second caning was different from the first. The first one was sensual. It was a painfull treat for us both. This one was for Mistress, and I was just along for the ride. Ooh..What a ride. Mistress was wearing jeans, and a t shirt this time. She was all business. She told me to pile some pillows on the edge of the bed. As I turned from the task I saw the handcuffs in her hand.
"Here." she said. Her eyes were shining. I held out my wrists, and a thrill went up my spine as I became her prisoner.

She ordered me over the pillows. It was clumsy with my hands in the cuffs, making my submission complete. I whimpered, buring my face in my arms. I was deliciously scared! Tap..tap..TAP..TAP...FIRE!!! A line of fire lanced through me! My head jerked up as I cried out hoarsley. I was getting a whipping. Tap..tap..tap TAP... "OOHHHHHH!!" The scream was torn from me. Mistress calmed me. Encouraged me. I buried my face in the covers, crying softly.

Tap..tap..tap TAP TAP..TAP..."OH GOD!! I was sobbing openly now. my head flopping from side to side. I was in doubt of myself. Could I Take anymore? I had to. Mistress had said four, and four it would be. "One more little Bunny." Her voice was a sweet counterpoint to the fiery lines on my bare bottom. Tap..taptaptap..tap..TAP TAP...aughhhhh!! OH GOD!! I buried my face again to muffle my cries. My wrists were wet with tears. Eyes closed, I waited on Mistress's pleasure.

I felt her little hands on me. Raising me to my knees. Opening them..ICE!!! I squirmed in pleasure, as she ran first one cube, and then the other, cooling the fire. "MMMMMMMMM." If I had been a cat I would have been purring. She ran her hand over me. My bottom, my back, my shoulders. Murmuring praise about her 'brave little Bunny' I was happy. The third cube began it's trace over my hot bottom. Back, and forth across. Following the red lines. Mmmm...

ICE!!!!! Running around the rim...down to my scrotum,,EVERYWHERE! "Oh god!" "Oh Mistress!!" Inside me!! I writhed in pleasure, and pain, as the ice became an ache deep inside me. Mistress followed with another cube. "oh god!" " OH MISTRESS!" I babbled.......

Lying spent , hands still cuffed, I looked into Mistress's smiling, laughing eyes. You liked that eh?

I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU LIKE IT

2009-03-30T19:07:00.000-07:00

"I'm going to make you like it." I'll never forget when she said that the first time. A wave of submission washed over me. Ooh. Bliss. She was talking about the cane, and her voice was honey in my ears causing ripples of fear,and delight! She was going to hurt me..and make me like it. Oh god. I'd watched, and listened to lots of canings in videos.(Lots of crying-n-begging going on too.) I'd seen picture after picture of hot angry looking cane welts. "I'm going to make you like it."

I was scared. I was mouth completely dry scared. "Mistress?" I stammered in a very small voice. "Can bunny get a drink of water please?" "Make it quick." her reply was terse. I made it very quick. With my hands trembling I stood at the sink drinking, my eyes locked on the cane like it was a snake. Back on the bed I saw her eyes change. She layed the cane on the bed. The smile that came to her lips was small, but her eyes were shining! I watched those wonderfull slender fingers move to the bottons of her top.

In the dim glow of the lamps I watched her lovely pale ivory tummy slowly revealed to me. She was wearing the red bra! Oh! My heart raced. I didn't know where to look. Mistress's face was beautifull. Full of the joy of a woman totally in her element. My delight in her was reflected in her happiness. Her hair was Burnished red copper. I drank in the sight of her in that lacey red bra as she lay her top down, and reached for her skirt. I was in heaven. The cane forgotten. I was all caught up in the incredible tease of Mistress in her red bra, and panties, then she picked it up.

I was affraid of it. But I was determined. Mistress said Iwas going to like it, and there was no way I was going to let her down. She tapped my bare bottom with it, one side, and the other, and slid it lightly down the outside of my thigh. Oh god. It wasn't a tickle, or a carress, it was delightfully both! Up it came, sliding along my inner thigh, when she touched my balls I gasped. She began to gently spank me with the cane. Tap tap..SNAP! A harder one. Then tap tap tap..snap! She was slowly building the intensity. I was getting lost in the sensuality of it. I was being whipped by a beautifull young woman in her bra, and panties. MMMMM. Two harder strokes brought me back..I heard the cane cut the air, and pure white hot fire tore a scream from me! I jerked upright as if struck by lightning. Then her discipline returned to me, and I fell back on the bed. Bottom in the air, face buried in the covers, I sobbed. When I had calmed the tapping began again.

I looked over my shoulder. Ooh. That tiny red lace triangle framed by the soft curves of her thighs. I fought to keep my eyes down, and not make eye contact. Mistress's red hair called me..snap! Tap tap tap..snap..tap tap tap..Two more sharp warning taps, and fire!!! I cried out horsely, and sobbed, but held position this time. (Being the naughty bunny I am I looked back over my shoulder again, as she let me gather myself.) I Expected the third, and final stroke would be the hardest.I was shaking like a leaf. Could I take another? Would I shame myself, and use a safe word? NO! I steeled myself. Burying my face in the covers..waiting.
The tapping began again. It seemed to me that the intensity was building faster this time. When I f elt the warning taps I jerked. Mistress never let on, but returned to tapping gently. She slowly brought the level back up. I shamelessly arched my back, and presented my bottom to her. When the warning taps finally came I stayed limp and..CRACK! Pain exploded across my bottom, and I was whimpering. Crying.

Then I was in her arms, my forhead, being kissed. Her fingers gentle in my hair. Her soothing voice telling me how brave I was, and that it was all over now. I was so happy to have pleased mistress! And I Felt very small, innocent, and safe in her arms.

TERRY

BUNNY IS IN DENVER!!!!!!

2009-03-19T04:37:00.000-07:00

Oh eep!! eep eep eep! Bunny is at Mistress's house(HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY!!) My trip was smooth as glass, and I spotted the most beautifull red hair in the world a hundred feet from the bus terminal :) I already have some new stripes ooh. I am a happy bunny

OH MISTRESS!!

2009-03-11T04:48:00.000-07:00

Your boy is getting very excited ma'am. soon to be returning to your presence. awaiting your pleasure.sharing your company. ooh. the teasing promise of pain, and delight in your voice, on the telephone. "be sure to pack mistress a couple of fresh switches little bunny."

IT'S REAL IT'S REAL IT'S REAL!!!!

2009-02-20T21:14:00.000-08:00

Mistress bought my tickets. It's really going to happen. In less than a month I'll be in Denver. YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP!!!!
I AM ONE HAPPY BUNNY!!!!!!

EEP EEP!!

2009-02-01T21:41:00.000-08:00

YUP YUP

12 DAYS OF MISTRESS REPRISE.....

2008-12-21T15:13:00.001-08:00

On the 12th Day of christmas mistress gave to me....

12 pins for cumming

11 licks a striping

10 more for peeping

9 ways of dancing

8 days of milking

7 swats a swinging

6 weeks a slaving

5 five on my thing!!!!!!

4 colored clips

3 whip flicks

2 paddle strokes

and a switching between my kneeeeeez......

thank ya...thankya ver much....

goodboy

PUNNISHED, AND PUT TO BED (PART 2)

2008-10-08T14:15:00.001-07:00

I lay sobbing on my bed. Striped red, and burning from the candy strap. (A length of red, yellow, and blue braided plastic cut from a childs jump rope, and made into a fiery whip.)

The lesson having been "taught" (A private matter between Mistress, and I.)It was time to deal with a punnishment spanking I had coming, for falling asleep in church. Mistress usually uses a switch for this pacticular offense, but not having a fresh one available, she decided on using the rod instead. (For new readers,the rod is a thin whippy plastic switch that stings like pure fire.) The punnishment for falling asleep in church is to be whipped up, and down starting with 25 on my bottom,25 on the back of my thighs, and (oh god!!) 25 on my calves Then repeating the process in reverse. 25 more on my calves (oh god!), 25 on the back of my thighs, and ending with 25 on my bare bottom. (Mistress got started switching my calves, after reading that a reletive of her favorite author, Robert Heinlein, used to switch his.)

This punnishment is always an ordeal I dread. I hate being whipped on my calves. god it hurts! But tonight I was already on fire from the intense whipping I'd just recieved with the candy strap. I was red from my waist to my knees, and marked with stinging red welts. The heat from them actually making the sheet warm beneath me.

"Are you ready little bunny?" Mistress asked. "Oh please Mistress!" I begged. "It hurrts!" "Iknow, but we have to take care of this." She soothed. "Just a little longer, and it'll all be over." I just cried. I thought of asking for a reprieve. I even thought of using a safe word. But the personal shame of doing that to get out of punnishment was worse to me than the whipping to come.
Mistress started in on my burning bottom, the rod bringing fresh fire. I wiggled, I Moaned. I begged. Mistress whipped.
It continued on my thighs, with the rod's raised welts overlaying the hot red lines from the strap. God it hurt! I was sweating.
Then the lightening began on my calves. I knew it wouldn't change anything, but I pleaded anyway. "Oh please ma'am!" "Almost done little bunny." after a brief rest to catch my breath the final fiery trip back up my legs began. I felt lost in an endless whipping. Sobbing like a child. At last it ended.

I was allowed to rub, and to sit on my wooden chair. (A kinky pleasure Mistress indulges me in...I love the feel of the cool smooth wood on my hot striped bottom, and legs!) "OOOOH!" I whimpered. Sitting hurt. We spoke briefly. Mistress soothing, and comforting her goodboy. I felt incredibly submissive! Small. I was clingy, and very meek.

"I think you need your sleep little bunny." Mistress said. "Get your bunny, and get on your bed. Mistress is going to go ahead, and tuck you in." I started to cry all over again. "Do I haveta go to bed ma'am?" I wailed. I had napped earlier, and was wide awake. Plus being put to bed right after a spanking felt like I was still being punnished. Mistress was sweet, but firm. "I think Bunny needs his sleep baby. So get that hot little bottom on your bed."
Mistress told me goodnight, and that she loved me very much, which took some of the sting out of it. But I still lay in the dark hugging my big blue bunny, and crying for awhile. :(

PUNNISHED, AND PUT TO BED

2008-10-07T08:25:00.000-07:00

When the phone rang,I checked the caller id, knowing who it was. I was in trouble.
"Hello?" I said. I felt very contrite. "Hello little bunny" she answered.
I heard obvious affection in Mistress's voice, but she was all business. I was made to go to the bathroom, get my door closed & locked, and stripped. It was punnishment time.
I was told to get the candy strap, and get on the bed. "Lets start with fifty, good, and hard, on that bottom." Mistress set me on fire! God, that thing hurts!I began to cry. After those were finnished she moved to the backs of my thighs, and started a fire there with fifty strokes with that strap. Then it was back to my burning bottom for fifty more, and back to my thighs. I began to beg.
"Please?" I whimpered, in the smallest voice I could manage. Mistress continued to rain fire on my bare bottom, and legs. I was sobbing openly now.
"Fifty more on those thighs Bunny." she said quietly. "Oh please!" I cried. "Now!" Her voice was hard. I moaned, but complied. My legs, and bottom were hot. With new lines of fire being added relentlessly. I was being taught a lessen. And the lesson was going to be learned. I lost track of the number of strokes after awhile, and just cried & begged in a red fog of pain.

Finally it stopped. I was allowed to rest for a bit, and catch my breath. Then it was time for the rod...
((to be continued....))

MY BUNNY

2008-08-27T15:40:00.000-07:00

I recieved a belated birthday present recently. Mistress was tight lipped about what it was. "You'll see what it is when it gets there little bunny." She told me on the phone, the day she mailed it. "Just be sure your alone when you open it." OOH. That put my mind in delightfull overdrive! What was going to be in that box from Mistress?? Handcuffs? Some new implement to be spanked with? Something kinky I knew, or why should I be alone when I opened it? I began anxiously watching the mail. Counting the days on my calender. Wondering.

And then the day came! I hurried into my room clutching the box to my chest, and locked my door. I couldn't get it open! Too much tape! Where's my knife? Finally it was open, and there he was. MY BUNNY.My big blue bunny! He was huge! (over two feet tall) As big as a small child.And, OOH! His hands were tied. (I put the rope in my implement bag)He is wearing a HOGWARTS School Of Magic And Witchcraft t-shirt (AW) He was holding a plastic spatula. (It broke the first time we used it, oh well.) As soon as I had him untied (ooh mistress!) I hugged him to my chest, and murmerd to him. "My Bunny." And that's who he is. Bunny.

I read the hand written note from Mistress, and began to cry. She had taken a plastic heart , and sewn it into his chest. My bunny had a real heart. put into him, with love, from Mistress. How beautifull! How thoughtfull! The love, and effort that went into this, very personal, gift! I was, and am, so deeply touched.

I fell in love with him immediately. He is a real, physical representation ,of the deep bond of affection Mistress has for me. I sleep with him every night. I get on my bed, and cuddle him. I've held him to my chest when I was sick, and afraid. I put a Chicago Cubs hat on him (just like mine), and we watch the Cubs. I've had him on my lap when I was chatting with Mistress on Yahoo Messenger. When I leave for work I put the remote in his lap, and say. "Watch what you want buddy." Kiss him on the head, and leave. I am unashamedly in love with my bunny. Even when I don't go to sleep with him in my arms, I always wake up with him there. I go to him in my sleep.

I think he misses Mistress a little though.

Grab Bag

2008-07-06T18:16:00.000-07:00

So little bunny and I have added a new game to the mix. We call it grab bag spanking. Basically he closes his eyes, reaches into the toy bag and pulls out whatever he touches first. Then I decide how many he gets with it and where.

We both enjoy the suspense of the unknown this has added to our playtime. I'm enjoying the extra challenge of improvising a spanking with whatever comes out. I think it is quickly becoming our favorite game.

Here bunny, bunny, bunny! >:)

Ms. Betty

Ow! She..Ow! Loves..Ow! Ow! Me..OWW!

2008-06-26T07:43:00.000-07:00

I won't say what it was for personal reasons, but I did something the other night, that had potentially fatal consequences. An accident, a very stupid lapse of saftey, with a dangerous possesion.I had told a mutual friend of ours (Hi Jon!)during a phone conversation, and he joked that if he told Ms Betty that she would whip me good. Knowing he was right I begged him not to. He laughingly assured me that my secret was safe with him. So what did I do? I told on my self.
Oh I passed it off as a joke on myself. I told myself she would just share in the humor of it all. But I think I knew all along what her reaction would be. What I wanted it to be. What I needed it to be. I had done something stupid, and dangerous. Scared myself. And I needed to be punnished, so I wouldn't forget, and just laugh it off. I needed to remember this.
The effect on our conversation was immediate. Gone was the playfull banter. Her voice hardened, focused. I was in trouble. She wasn't mad, her lecture wasn't harsh, and there was none of the scorn that signals that I've let her down. This was differen't. And then she said it. "How do think I'd feel if I lost my Bunny?" I had scared her! Even through the disapointment, and frustration with me, I could hear it in her voice.
A mix of emotions played for my attension. Fear. Affection. Shame.Happiness. Mistress loves me...
"Get that door closed, and get your pants off." Fear won. "Get out your candy strap." Yep definitely fear. I was about to get my wish. I wouldn't forget this. No long lecture, no warm up. Mistress began laying that strap to my bare bottom hard. I began to vocalize from the first searing stripe. When she had set me ablaze there she moved down to the backs of my thighs. Begging, and crying began. God she was whipping me! I wiggled. I howled. I pleaded. Mistress whipped.
"now get that ping pong paddle" She said. And then the lecture began. Her voice had that focused lazer edge, that says "You will not forget this messege" She set me on fire with that paddle. Baking in the welts, as I cried, and pleaded. With my legs, and bottom striped,and crimson, I was told to turn off my computer. I was going to bed..now.
"I want you to remember this young man"
And I will ma'am. I promise.

Pounced!!

2008-06-15T07:36:00.000-07:00

9:30a.m.
"I feel like pouncing a bunny" She said. "Get your clothes off"
So here I sit on my smooth, cool, hard wooden chair, naked except for her collar. My thighs, and bare bottom hot, and red from her big wooden spoon. I'm not allowed to dress. I'm allowed to "tickle" but not to cum. "I have some things to do little bunny, We'll talk later." The game begins again.
I can't think of anything but Mistress. I'm naked. I see the sunshine outside, but can't go out. The feeling of being a prisoner in my house adds to the deep submission I feel. I prowl the house restlessly, feeling so vulnerable. I just cleaned out the catboxes the spilled litter grinding into my bare knees. Ooh.

12:15p.m.
"I'll have the grilled bunny please." She said sweetly. We exchanged a bit of conversation, and then. "Go find that switch It's time to grill a bunny." I scurried to comply feeling incredibly submissive! "I have the switch ma'am."
She wasted no time. She put me on the bed, and proceeded to set me on fire all over with the switch. My sore bottom, and the backs of my thighs were first. Then she went between them with the switch. After twenty-five scorching lines on each inner thigh, she switched my thing on the sensitive underside just below the head, as I wiggled , and cried out with each one.
"God it's so hard Mistress!" I gasped as she rained fire on it with the switch. She said. "ofcourse mistress's toy heard her call."
She left me striped red all over, tickling my hot sore thing, warning me not to have any "accidents."

12:55p.m.
Oh god!! I had barely started drafting the last paragraph, when She was back! I whimpered. "hello?" "Get that ping pong paddle." And I was quickly put back on the bed where I was soundly blistered. god she paddled me! I was told to put the paddle away, and allowed to rub, before being returned to the chair. "Ooh mistress." I gasped as my sore bottom made contact with the wood. "Spanked, whipped all over, and spanked again." She agreed, and after giving me instructions to post an answer to some questions on another blog she left me to my own devices (naked,striped,red), knowing more was coming.

1:30p.m.
More came. "Flyswatter." came the order. "lets start with 12 good, and hard on that thing." I lay naked, my legs open, it was time to "sing" for Mistress. I gasped, and cried out with each fiery sting on the head of my shaft. Then she whipped the back of my thighs, and bare bottom, the swatter stung like mad on my already sore nakedness. "Put the swatter away, and you can rub, and tickle." she teased. "You want to sit on your chair?" (She knows me so well) She left me to wonder what she would do next. And when.
So here I sit, naked, trying to concentrate on my Cubbies. They have the Bluejays 7-0 in the 6th inning. All i can think about though is how striped, and sore I am. And the fact that Mistress said we hadn't even begun...
3:02p.m.
Oh god oh god oh god! "Go get ice" she said. I returned to my room with a bowl of icecubes, and was made to apply a cube to my bare bottom until it melted, then whipped with the rod on my freshly iced rear. God it hurt!! And it went on. OOh! Fire, and ice.
Then she made me apply the ice to my thing. I moaned. I cried out. I wiggled like a fish out of water. "Be sure to get it good all over." she told me. "Sides, top,bottom, are you getting that head good?" "Oh god, yes ma'am!" I half gasped half moaned. "Good bunny." " Now take another cube, and run it over those balls."
As much as I was vocalizing by now I'm surprized the neighbors didn/t hear. That ice being applied to my balls felt like cold fire, and after a bit they began to ache from the cold. Leaving no stone unturned I was made to run Ice up, and down my crack.OH MY GOD! I arched my back raising completely off the bed as the ice touched me "there" (god I'm blushing like a schoolboy)
Another cube was applied to my shaft again making me moan, and oooh. Then it was trailed up my chest. It was time for some nipple torture. Both nipples were iced good, and whipped hard with the rod. I began to cry. God it hurt! My little nipples are incredibly sensitive. It was only twelve each side, but seemed to go on forever. Mistress was working her boy over good today. She moved back down to my shaft, and after icing it with another cube, she made me get out the candy strap, and set my icecold penis ablaze! God she whipped it! I howled. When she finnished this session I was hard as a rock, and limp as a dishrag. I layed, and whimpered.
Another session was coming.
5:18p.m.
"I'm thinking hairbrush."she said by way of greeting."The oval one hanging on your wall." Oh Oh oh! Kept naked, except for her collar, all day. Spanked, whipped, tortured, and spanked, and whipped some more. mmmmmmmmmmmm. She proceeded to light me up with that brush. bottom, thighs,bottom, thighs, until I felt like I was sitting on a hot iron. "Ok little bunny do you want to rub, or sit on your chair?" she laughed when I said both. Then I made a request, and was granted permission to get out my spikey matt, and sit my freshely seared bottom, and lergs on it. I was lightly tickling my hard shaft on the sensitive underside, quietly moaning, and enjoying the burn of the spikes on my hot bottom, when Mistress told me to get out my massager..MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!
But I was not allowed to cum. Mistress was not through with me yet.
8:20 pm
"you know that short leather strap you have in your bag?Get that."
So again I found myself on the bed being whipped. she started on my inner thighs,and as usual I started off not too impressed with that little strap. Oh it stung a little, but the flyswatter hurts worse. Then she started in on my nipples. I was crying by the third stroke. I quickly gained respect for that little piece of leather, moaning and wiggling as finnished the left, and started in on the right. I was howling by the time she shifted down to my shaft. For the forth time today my thing was whipped hot, and red.It burned with every stroke,but every third, or fourth blow landed on the head bringing an incredible sting! I was so hard.
"Ok little bunny." Mistress said when it was over."Do you want to rub?" I told her I'd rather tickle it. She knows I love to tickle it when it's sore from her attention. But I was still not allowed to cum. Mistress wasn't through hurting me yet..

10:26p.m.
Her messenger window opened on my cpu with one word..POUNCE!! After I answered her the next messege was just as short.GET YOUR RULER. I asked..FLEXIBLE? AsI was reading her answer of YES. The phone rang. She took that flexible rubber ruler to my bare backside, and inner thighs until I was crying again. God that thing hurts! She went after the backs of my thighs for a bit, then returned to my inner thighs leaving me red, hot, and sobbing. I was allowed to rub (and tickle). And told she wasn't through yet.

11:02p.m.
Mistress said she had spagetti for dinner. "Hmmn."" she mused. "Spagetti is kinda stringy..Lets get that penis whip you made. (I MADE IT OUT OF LEATHER, AND ROUND CLOTH SHOE LACES. THE HANDLE IS A DUCT TAPED CLOTHESPIN. THE KNOTS AT THE END OF THE FALLS STING LIKE MAD) she went to work on my thing with that penis whip. The fifth whipping my shaft had felt today. I was quickly thrashing, and moaning again. Not6 wanting to leave anything out Mistress whipped my inner thighs a while, before returning to my thing. being sure the top,bottom, sides, and head were given attension. I howled.
Now it's 12:04a.m. I am waiting again for mistress. She said I haven't had the grand finale' yet....
12:12p.m.
'I want you to get that belt." she said. "Which ever one you see first." It turned out to be my reversable one. It's narrower, but thicker than the wide one. they both hurt about the same. "now mistress instructed."Were going to go back, and forth cheeck to cheek till I stop. Good, and hard." The belt fell hard. All over my bare backside, and my thighs. God it was hurting! I was soon in tears again. Moaning. Crying out at paticularly hard strokes, or ones that caught a sensitive place. I didn't think it was ever going to end. I was still sobbing after it did.
"Now i want you to kneel in the middle of the floor, and I want you to ask me for one more spanking. I did as I was told. Feeling incredibly submissive. Whipped. Spanked. Tortured. Teased.
"Mistress." I said in a very small voice. "Will you give me another spanking..please!" I was told to get the ketchup paddle. (THATS A BIG HEAVY PADDLE THAT USED TO BE A HIENZ KETCHUP THERMOMETER. I was crying hard by the third swat, and there were 15 more to go. Sobbing, and sniffling I was made to kneel naked in the middle of my room, and masturbate until I came. It only took a few minutes. I was conquered. Whipped. teased. spanked.tortured, on, and off for 15 hours. Five differen't stingy implements used on my thing. I spurted three times. god it felt so good! So embarrassing. mistress made me clean up my sticky mess. It is time to put me to bed.
terry

Mistress's toy

2008-06-11T19:05:00.000-07:00

Oh god!! Last night mistress said "I haven't decided yet what I'm going to do."She laughed evily."I may spank you. I may not. I may whip your thing, and make you write mistress's toy on it, before you go into work."
She decided this morning. Ooh. She set my bottom, and the backs of my thighs on fire with her big wooden spoon. Then she moved in between them, and blistered my inner thighs too.
"Now."she said. "Lets do 12 good, and hard on that shaft with that spoon." I cried out with every one. God it hurt! More followed until my thing was hot, red, and hard. Then, true to her word, she made me write Mistress's toy on the side of my shaft!
All day at work my sore inner thighs reminded me of her spanking. My mind kept going back to this morning, and Mistress's toy was hard most of the day. God i feel so submissive! Her toy.
-Terry-

Mistress

2008-06-01T12:16:00.000-07:00

When I typed the word a little thrill went down my back, and I smiled a contented, happy smile. I love her ofcourse, and think of her all the time. What would Mistress think? What would Mistress do? Is she happy? Is she painting? Is she thinking of her good boy so far away?

Look at her. The girl next door.I love her beautifull red hair. Sweet, demure, lost in her palate.I remember this day well.We spent the whole day in my room. Mistress painted, and I served her. I played dj keeping a flow of music on my stereo. (Mistress had two or three, must have cds, that she paints by.) I played her some favorites from my collection. And we talked, talked talked, thuroughly enjoying each other's company. I emptied her brush water when it became too cloudy, replacing it with fresh. Kept her supplied with paint rags. I cooked, and served breakfast, snacks, and lunch. And I found lost things, in the ever-shifting chaos, that is Ms Betty painting. She gets so lost in the creative process, that everything else disapears as soon as she lays it down. "Where's my blue, Terry?" She wouldn't hurt a fly.
A day or so earlier it was a completely different story. We had the house to ourselves, and Mistress was in a very differen't mood. A mood to hurt her boy,again, and again. She spanked me in almost every room of the house. She was ready to play. I was in the laundry room..whap! whap! whap! In the pantry after snacks..Whap! whap! whap! I was stood up against the front door in the living room,pants lowered, and spanked. A bit later at the sink things intensified. After a brisk, hard spanking bent over the kitchen counter, mistress spun me around, grabbed my thing, and led me into the bathroom, doing the pants down shuffle. Oh god I felt submissive!
"your not really in trouble..go with me." She said, pulling me into the bathroom. "Now young man we will deal with that filthy mouth of yours." She then proceeded to wet a rag,soap it, and wash out my mouth good! All over my tongue, my inner cheeks, all over. Ooh! "Spit." she ordered. "And rinse out your mouth."
I did as I was told. I was in naughty boy heaven. I used to marvel at guys talking about being aroused by having their mouthes washed out with soap. Now,lost in the moment, living the fantasy, I understood. As I stood with my elbows on the sink, and my pants around my ankles, she reached across over my back,and took the heavy plastic bathbrush off it's hook. She proceeded to blister my bare bottom. God that thing hurt! And she was a machine. Fast hard spank followed fast hard spank, until I was on fire. Mistress loves to make me beg.
Finally, she hung the bathbrush back on the shower caddy. My legs, and bare bottom were hot, red, and sore. She ordered me back to my room, pants around my ankles, where her implement bag lay. it was time to play rough....

Chain Of Command

2008-05-24T11:26:00.000-07:00

I don't believe in bratting. Never have. I personaly think it is disrespectfull. It is my submission to Mistress that brings me my bliss. How could I bait her for attension, or abuse, and truley call myself submitted? It doesn't work for me.
Early on in our relationship we established who was the cat, and who was the mouse (bunny?) in the game we play. When I finally totally surrendered to her authority ,the friction between us vannished. She was resolute. She would have nothing else.
And that is the way it still is between us to this day. When I forget my place punnishment is swift, and memorable. For minor breaches I might find myself getting a hot lengthly paddling. Worse case scenario finds me naked,kneeling, in the corner on the sharp little nubs of my punnishment matt..My bottom & thighs hot, and striped red. Order resumed.
That isn't to say we don't have our ways of comunicating my desire for play. From the begining Mistress has told me that if I wanted, or needed a spanking, to just ask her. And we've established a couple of "safe" ways for me to get playfull corporal attension without taunting, or trying to make her irritated enough to spank me.
It was established on her 360 page months ago that bad puns, or jokes would be grounds for spankings. Mistress would "applaud" my efforts with the ping pong paddle. The sound of one hand clapping as it were. So occasionally a comedey blog of cheesey jokes appears on 360, resulting in a "rabbit roasting." Hmmmnn. It's been a pretty good while since the last one too.
Being the little scamp that I am, I sometimes sing that commercial.."their ain't no bugs on me" using my own words. There ain't no rods on meeeeee their ain't no rods on meeeeeee
there might be rods on some of you sods...but there ain't no rods on meeeeeee!!!
(a reference to "the rod" a painfull plastic switch I have in my toybag) Sometimes this would get me a switching, sometimes a..."Carefull Little Bunny!" from Mistress. OOh. I love a scolding from Mistress, when I'm not in trouble. It was decided last week though that my singing that song would bring out the rod every time. Mistress decided that that way I could have another "safe" way to ask for play. remembering ofcourse that Mistress plays rough.
I was feeling friskey the other night, and actually sang it a second time.EEP! Mistress set me on fire with that rod. I waas through singing for the night. Striped red hot, and feeling so submissive! I slept with her hairbrush clutched in my hand. My hand next to my heart.
We were discussing this game of "cat, and Mouse" we play last night. The fact that the only way to win the game is to be the cat.
"Who always wins the game?" she asked me playfully?"
As David Crosby said.."Choice is your souls moment for it's light to shine." Feeling very scampish, and in my "little" voice I answered.."DA Bunny!!!"
The answer was electric. "GET that rod!" Gone was the playfull tone. "Ma'am?" I asked nervously. "Fetch!" "Now."
I quickly found myself bare, and striped red. 25 hard strokes on the backs of my thighs. Fifty on my sitspots just as hard. Leaving me whimpering.
"Now" She said. "Who always wins little bunny mine?" The playfull tone was back. Order re established.
In a very small voice I answered her.
"You always win Mistress."

Playtime

2008-05-16T00:56:00.000-07:00

I started by spanking him, good and hard, first with the ping pong paddle, then with the candy strap.

The first thing little bunny likes to do after a play spanking is sit down on his hard wooden chair and enjoy the feel of the his weight on his hot, sore bottom. Tonight was a little different, though. After a moment he asked if he could put his mat on his chair. The mat is bad. The mat is evil. The mat is what I make him kneel on when he's been a bad boy. But tonight, he reveled in pressing his sore bottom into those mean little spikes.

But we weren't done there.

I made him get up and fetch the flyswatter, then sit back down on the mat. We used the flyswatter between his legs, making his shaft as hot and sore as his bottom. As the blows landed he wriggled on the spikes, whimpering more and more loudly.

But we still weren't done.

We found his special comb and ran the teeth up and down the underside of his shaft. Bunny moaned. It hurt, but it felt so, so, good.

And still we weren't done.

I made him fetch the dog chain. Once he settled back onto the mat his hands were bound with the chain. Bunny was very, very excited. I made him masturbate for me with the cold steel wrapped around his wrists. When he finished I made him clean up while still bound.

And then we were done.

I do believe bunny had a very good time.

Ms. Betty

Yipes Stripes !

2008-05-11T01:14:00.000-07:00

Mmmmmmmmmmm. I'm a contented bunny. I just got off the phone with the most wonderfull Mistress a boy could have. We had another marathon phone conversation. As usual it started online. She put me in her Google version Of "Ladies Who Enjoy Spanking Men", and wanted me to check it out & see what I thought. Eep! Yep there was that picture of me in the corner. bottom red, and my pants at half mast. I'm still getting used to pictures of me bare on the internet.

We branched out from there. Talking about everything under the sun.(or in this case the moon?) Music. Computers. Yahoo, and how it's driving us nuts. Friends, and family ofcourse, and woven through it all us. Me being a playfull little scamp, but never bratting, wanting a playtime spanking. Mistress being..well.Mistress. Wise, curious about everything, Mind constantly in motion. reading, conversing, and working puzzles. Never missing a thing. "You did what?" She'll say stopping me in mid babble.

If I'm not in trouble, or expecting punnishment, I love it when her voice turns strict. Ooh. I get such a thrill being gently scolded by her. "And what did I tell you about making assumptions?" I can just see the expression on her face. Then the conversation resumes, and we're off to the races again. Talking about everything from Make up to aircraft carriers. Kittens,husbands,daughters, and how we love them. She has the husband, I have the daughter, and ofcourse we both have multiple cats.

And before we knew it it was after 3 am again. Mistress was about to say goodnight, so I gave it one more playfull, respectfull ploy.

"Well" I said innocently (ruefully). "I guess this time I got away with singing the Ain't no rods on me song." "Get it" She came back immediately.

"Maam?" I asked "Get the rod." "I never get away with nothin" I said in my "little" voice." "Darn right!" she replied.

So here I sit ablaze. (yummy) Hot red stripes from the rod all over. God that thing hurts! She whipped my bare bottom, the backs of my thighs, and...oooh! My inner thighs. She left me near tears. Mistress plays rough. mmmmm. She knows what her little bunny likes.

She came to me online to say good night. "Sleep tight little bunny." "Goodnight." ......"Be naughty." You know me well Mistress. Sleep well.

A Year Ago Today...

2008-05-05T13:20:00.000-07:00

Where does the time get to? Can a whole year really have passed since this person stepped into my life? The calendar says so, but the standard cliches apply. It feels like we've know each other so much longer, yet at the same time it feels like only days have passed since we first met.

Oh what a year it's been! We've both lost people, found others, and taken each other places we never dreamed we'd go.

The story of our early days has been told many times, from Terry's point of view and mine. I will not repeat it as I don't want it worn thin. It's ingrained in our memories permanently and the rest of you have already heard it.

But what I will say is that there were many firsts in our relationship and when thinking about this milestone it took some thinking to decide what day would truly be "our" day. When did we become what we've become? The first time I spanked him? The first time he called me "Mistress" and forever changed the way I saw the word? The first time we spoke? All of these are treasured things, but as submission is about surrender, about the giving of oneself to another and the acceptance of that gift, we decided that only one day would do; The day he asked to be mine.

And that was what he did, a year ago today when that stern, rugged, slightly gruff, oh so sure of himself man melted into a shy boy and barely got the question out. His world changed, my world changed, and neither of us has looked back with the slightest bit of regret. He's been mine ever since, and he always will be.

So, little bunny, here's to our first year, and the many more to come.

Mistress

A Dangerous Mood

2008-05-03T13:22:00.000-07:00

I get in those from time to time, and while the world at large is generally safe they do spell doom for a certain little bunny and his tender little tail.

The other night I asked little bunny if his bottom was tingling. He said "no, why?"

Because we were getting out the Spidy paddle, that's why.

I gave this paddle to little bunny during my visit out to him back in March. It's a slightly flexible plastic paddle about 1/8 of an inch thick. The head is 4 inches wide, just big enough for one cheek or those tender sit spots. The paddle is a bit heavy for it's size, but light as far as spanking implement goes and stings something fierce. I have several of these paddles with different cartoon characters on them. (All found at my local Dollar Tree store, if anyone is interested.) They are quite ouchie.

"Ohhh!" bunny said when I told him to get the paddle. 50 swats on each cheek of his bare bottom. Then 50 more (again this is a fairly light implement, it stings, but it mostly produces an over all red warmth. Very good for warm ups.) Then 50 on the back of each thigh and bunny was wiggling like a little fish. "I can see why Mooska doesn't like those things," he pouted.

Aw, poor bunny; and we were just getting started, too.

Next we got out the special whip he made for me to use on his genitals. After whipping his shaft for awhile, I had him take to the insides of his thighs, stinging them nicely as well.

We finished with something we don't do often. Belts are very hard to use for self spanking, but Terry has gotten enough practice at this point to be fairly accurate and effective with them. I didn't give him a set number, I just made him alternate for cheek to cheek until I said stop. As the crack of the belt sounded again and again I sat back to listen, and to wait.

It didn't take too long to hear what I wanted to hear.

"Please," he said is a quiet, plaintive tone.

"Keep going," I said.

The slaps went on awhile longer.

"Please," he said again. Again, I made him keep going.

The licks continued. He started to cry. "I'll be good, I'll be good," he pleaded, but that wasn't what I wanted to hear. The whipping continued.

At last he said it; "please!" the magic 3rd time. I made him continue for another dozen strokes and then let him stop.

He was sniffling, crying and very very sore, but happy. The very first thing he did (after putting his toys away, he really is a very good boy) was go straight to his wooden chair to sit down so he could tell me how much the wood hurt his burning bottom.

silly bunny. (:))

Ms. Betty

Penis Whipping

2008-04-20T01:17:00.000-07:00

Switches can be used for playtime too. Specially if you have a Mistress that likes to play rough....
Seldom does our reality live up to our fantasy. Perhaps because
they are usually long held tales, retold in our minds, for years.
Embelished, polished, and refined to a cresendo over years. What a
joy it is then, when the reality not only meets the fantasy in
intensity, but surpasses it.
I remember reading a book as a teenager called "A Worm In The
Bud" A thick sprawling book awash in sexually charged whipping,
spanking, nettles, you name it. I made sticky little messes reading
this book for years. Whips, crops, and all manner of implements being
used"all over" naked men and women. But the sequences
that always had aroused me the most were the ones where women were
using switches on young men. And if they became aroused during these
whippings (and they always did) They would recieve hard whippings on
their hard, bare penises! OOOOh!! The idea of a woman punnishing me
there has always resulted in incredible arousal for me.
So the night I found myself naked, kneeling, legs open, with my
hands behind my back, and Mistress holding a pecan switch she had
made me cut for her....OOOOOOH! ! I was so hard! I couldn't believe
what was about to actually happen, after years of fantasizing about
it!!
We had been doing obedience training.I was naked except for my
brand new, black leather, collar.(the boy in me took delight in the
fact that it smelled just like a new baseball glove) When I got a
task right Mistress would tickle my shaft with the feather end of a
crop. If I made a mistake I felt the slapper end. I was in an
incredibly submissive frame of mind. Kneeling, naked, head, and eyes
down, in front of my Mistress! Then came the command...
"Fetch the switch out of your bag" I brought it to her in my
mouth. Offering it up to her, glancing into her eyes briefly, looking
at the floor again as she took it. "GOOD BOY!"
She whipped me with the switch. My bottom, the backs of my
thighs. Hard. I whimpered, and cried out. She continued for a bit to
rain fire on me, bringing me to a cresendo of moans, cries, and
finally pleas. Then the switch was tickling my rock hard shaft!
Her voice was honey, as she teased me. All the while tickling me
there with the switch. I wiggled, and quietly moaned in pleasure, and
then she completed the fantasy! Fire! Each stroke was like
electricity on my penis! She covered it completely in fire. Whipping
down on the top of my shaft. Admonishing me to stop moving away from
the switch, or she would start over. Oh God!! I couldn't stand it!
God it hurt! I wanted it to go on! And it did. She calmed me down.
Tickled it again with the switch. Spoke soothingly .Teasing again.
Then started a series of strokes aimed upward searing the
sensitive "sweetspot" some call the male clitorus. Oh god!
I jumped! She warned me yet again to be still, or she would start
over. I begged. I cried. I tried hard to keep my hands on my head,
almost covering up three times. All three times she let me regain
position, and resumed torturing the underside of my shaft with fiery
strokes with that switch!
She finally had had enough. She secured my shaft, and balls where
they stuck out, with a piece of small link chain. Tied my hands out
of the way. Then she announced that she hadn't gotten a chance to
really play rough with me yet. And she began to get out whips,crops,
clothespins, and I noticed this smile..on her face..Ohh god.....
-TERRY-

Into Every Life

2008-04-18T13:21:00.001-07:00

By and large, Terry is a good boy, that is how he got his original nickname, but sometimes even the best behaved bunnies find themselves in trouble.

My second night in town I agreed to go to church services with him. This was something he had been looking forward to since he knew I was coming. You see, Terry as a little problem with church. No matter how hard he tries, he almost always falls asleep during the service. Nothing seems to be able to stop it, but he was sure with a warm, sore bottom and me right beside him he would make it through.

Unfortunately, he didn't. This is not good news for little bunny. The price for falling asleep in church is a high one, and Mistress was going to make him pay it as soon as we were back home.

The standard punishment for dozing off is a switching, literally from his waist to his ankles. He gets 25 strokes on each cheek of his bottom, 25 on the back of each thigh, and 25 on the back of each calf. Then after a brief rest, we work our way back up, 25 on the calves, 25 on the thighs, 25 on each bottom cheek.

And this time Mistress was here to administer them herself.

Back in the privacy of his room he removed his pants, rolled down his socks and got on the bed. I went to the corner and retrieved the nice supple pecan switch waiting by the door. With his head buried in a pillow, Terry was already sniffling.

I did the strokes on his bottom across both cheeks instead of one at a time. I made them hard, but not full strength, and left plenty of time for each to sink in before the next.

There was begging, there was howling, there was crying, but he got every single stroke.

And here are the results:

Now that certainly kept him wide awake.

Ms. Betty

First Night In Town

2008-04-15T11:34:00.000-07:00

We've been disrupted, distracted, and disturbed so often in the last week or so that I lost the thread of the narrative of my visit to Terry. It's about time we got back to it.

We're going to back up a little and start at the beginning.

I left the house around 7:30 that morning. My flight left at 11. They said be there by 9. I was. It was 3 o'clock by the time I was on the ground in Nashville. From there I still had a 3 hour layover and then an 90 minute bus ride from Nashville to Cookeville.

The bus left Nashville over an hour late. By the time we got in the door It was after 9 PM. I'd been on the road for 13 1/2 hours. I was tired, hungry, and hurt all over from the fall I took when my rolling bag collapsed. (Let me take a moment to once again thank the TSA for being so careless as to unscrew the supports in my bag and then NOT PUT THEM BACK!)

Really I should have gone straight to bed, but I needed a shower first and by the time I'd had that and some dinner I felt mostly revived, so we sat up a bit and waited for others in the house to go to bed. As we talked I knew from the look in Terry's eyes that he was waiting as anxiously for what was to come as I was.

At last the house quieted around us. I crooked my index finger and beckoned him to me. He stood up, took a long, shuddering breath and came to me. I slipped his pants off, and for the first time he went over my knee.

This was not a punishment spanking. The swats came in a slow, sensual rhythm while he wriggled and moaned on my lap. I used his toys this first time. After my hand I tried his candy strap and the hairbrush I had sent him for Christmas. He was a very red, very sore, very happy bunny.

I let him up. He pressed both hands to his bottom and said "ooh!" Then he saw the gleam in my eye. His eyes widened.

"Fetch your belt."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said eagerly. I put him across the bed with a pillow under his hips and started in with that thick, wide strip of leather. He yelped and wriggled as it bit into is already sore bottom. "Oh God, oh God" he kept saying.

Now that he was warmed up it was time to get out some of my toys. I dug deep into my bag and dug out an assortment of floggers. I did not give him a full flogging, but I did give him just a taste, enough to whet his appetite for later.

I started with the hair whips, first the loose hank and then the braided cat. Both felt scratchy but not quite stingy and pinked up the skin on his shoulders. Next I moved to the silicone flogger. "Purple gurl!" he calls it, after the little purple devil emoticon that always signals imminent danger for my little bunny. He liked purple girl. The silicone falls are very thin, about like angel hair pasta, but the soft material makes them mostly thuddy, with just a little sting.

Terry was floating, but not quite ready for it to be over. I dug into the bag for a slightly more intense leather flogger.

Well, cat actually if you want to get technical. This is another of my homemade creations. I saw the belt it was made of at a local thrift store and saw definite potential in those zig-zagging strips. There is a bite to this whip, but it leaves more of a general redness than individual welts.

It's a bit odd I think that the less intense welts leave a more visible impact on the skin. That is because the less intense floggers cover a larger area of the skin, so the force is more evenly distributed than it is with the narrow tails of the cats or the dragon tongue. The more you "share the wealth" or the force of the blows, the more general redness and the fewer distinct welts you get.

By the time we stopped it was one o'clock in the morning. We had things to do bright and early the next day, so it was time for bed. Terry curled up sore and tired, but warm and happy, knowing there was much, much more to come.

Ms. Betty

I'm In Trouble.

2008-04-11T19:50:00.000-07:00

When she hung up on me the night before I knew I was in trouble. I was right. She wasted no time. After a brief, but withering scolding that left me miserable, she made me get my narrow leather belt. It's a reversable belt, black on one side, brown on the other, with some sort of core in the middle. This makes it heavy for it's size, and one inch width. And god does it hurt. Mistress made me take off my pants, and set to work with that belt.
I began to vocalize with the first searing stroke. The room filled with the sounds of punnishment. The sharp smack of that belt on my bare bottom, and cries and moans from me. She gave me fifty hard strokes on one cheeck, then reversed directions, and set the other cheek on fire with fifty more. Then with my sit spot stinging, and burning, mistress lowered her sights, and began striping the backs of my thighs. that belt was pure fire on my bare legs. I started making serious noise now.
"Oh God!" "OH Mistress !" I began to sob. The belt continued until each thigh was striped red. Fifty burning lines of heat.
"Get that oval hairbrush."Mistress said coldly " The one I sent you."
The brush began to be applied to the "sit spot" of my bottom. That tender area where thigh meets bottom. God it stung. I began to cry. The brush continued to fall. Fifty smacks, and a brief lecture, Then the brush began again. I started pleading with Mistress. She had a point to make. the brush continued to rain fire on my hot striped bottom. Fifty more fell.
"Oh please Mistress!" I wailed. "Oh God!" The brush continued it's work. I wiggled, I pleaded, I sobbed, and Mistress spanked. After a final fifty on my burning cheeks, she began searing my thighs. Doing what she calls "baking in the welts" Going over those hot belt welts with that hairbrush, and setting me on fire!! I felt suspended in time. nothing exhisted except Mistress's anger, and the fire burning on my legs. I didn't think it was ever going to end. And it didn't.
":Get that cane!" Mistress snapped.
"Oh God! I wailed." Mistress please!"
"Get it...Now!!"
I scrambled to fetch the cane from under my bed. Whimpering.Crying.
Dreading it. Hating it. Fearing it. Knowing there was no escape.
I recieved twelve hard strokes lengthwise, leaving long hot burning lines down each thigh. I cried out with each one. Whimpered, and begged between them. She began a series of fire on my bare bottom. Hard strokes. With time between them to hurt, and dread the next. Twelve on each side. The longest count of twenty-four I can remember. Leaving me still sobbing, and begging.
"Oh please Mistress!" "Please Don't-"
" Were done little Bunny." she soothed me. "Put your toys away, and you can rub." "It's all over."
I continued to sob quietly for awhile. As much out of shame of having disapointed again, as from the burning on my legs, and bottom.
"I'm sorry Mistress! I said miserably.
"Shhh." She said. "It's alright now."
And then it was....

Moving Day (reprise)

2008-04-09T17:21:00.000-07:00

So here I am. In my new home. Where's the store from here? What are the neighbors like? It still has that new paint smell. I still don't know where everything is, or how it works..But i will. And the keyword here is works. Everything does work. And the rest will come together with time.
To all my new neighbors here on Blogger..Howdy! (that's right I'm southern.) Welcome to our page. To all our friends, and family from 360..I am anxiously waiting to hear from you.
Mistress!!!!!!! Where's my fire engine?? I can't find my Harry Potter trainset!!! Mistress....hmmmph...I miss my moties.....
Terry

Kiss of the Dragon

2008-04-08T14:17:00.000-07:00

A close up look at some of the welts left by the Dragon Tongue
____________________________________________________________________________

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Tuesday April 1, 2008 - 03:18pm (CDT)

Answer to the triva question: The Difference between a Cat and a Flogger

2008-04-07T15:45:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Sunday April 6, 2008 - 03:26pm (CDT)

(picture chosen especially for Pip)

I will start with the usual disclaimer that nothing is quite universal so you may find different answers other places, but these guidelines tend to be a good place to start.

The difference between a cat and a flogger lies in the number of tails, or falls.

Generally speaking, if a whip has few enough tails that you can count them by looking, then it's a cat. However, if there are so many tails you would have to separate them with your fingers to count, then it's a flogger.

Another general guideline is that a cat has somewhere between two and twelve tails. Yep, that's right. While the most famous is the old cat-o'-nine, a cat need not have nine tails, many have 8 or 6 or even 5.

Cats also usually have woven or braided tails, but they need not to be counted as cats.

Between twelve and twenty we run into some ambiguity, but usually a whip with tweleve to twenty tails, or falls is considered a "double cat", though if the tails are unbraided or are not unique in some other way, it may be considered a flogger.

A whip with twenty to forty falls is considered a flogger. Usually flogger falls are unbraided, but not necessarily so. Floggers made of rope, sometimes with knotted ends, tend to be popular as a warm up or cool down toy. And as all rope is made up of braided fibers, if you make a flogger out of rope you end up with braided or twisted falls.

A flogger with forty or more tails (I've seen up to eighty tails on some) are called mops. These whips tend to be very heavy and are not used much, though.

So, just to recap:

2-12 tails: Cat

12-20 tails: Double Cat or small Flogger, depending on tail construction.

20-40 falls: Flogger

40+ falls: Mop

And that, boys and girls, is your dose of kinky technical sophistication for the week.

Now, this week's trivia question:

How did the original cat-o'-nine come about? What was it made of and why did it have 9 tails?

Ms. Betty

On Becoming Real...

2008-04-07T15:44:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Thursday April 3, 2008 - 05:41pm (CDT)

By the 3^rd day of my visit to Terry he had been spanked both by me and another Domme friend of mine, flogged, bound, CBT-ed, put through his paces for obedience training, and collared.

So Friday we took a bit of a break for some vanilla things and to talk a bit about what we had done so far. During that afternoon Terry said “I finally feel real.” I understood what he meant. One’s first real time session has a way of changing your perspective on the world forever. In addition, though I had known how sincere his loyalty and devotion were since we began, there were some out in the wider world who felt the need to cast aspersions because he had not been through any real time ordeals. He took great pride in knowing no one could say that anymore.

Though he had the collar, I felt something more would be nice to commemorate the occasion. I thought about it for a short while. What do you give a bunny who has just become real? A brainwave hit, I made a phone call, and off we went to the book store. I was very lucky, there was only one copy of the book I wanted in all of Cookeville. I sent Terry off to play in the Science Fiction section while I found it and made my purchase. Once the clerk rang it up I wrote a quick inscription on the title page and went to present it to my bunny. He got very excited, and a little misty.

That night we had a very special story time. No pins, no plug. He curled up against my shoulder where he could see the pictures while I read him The Velveteen Rabbit.

The story turned out to be perfect for his transformation, the toy who first becomes real to the one who loves him, the doubt of the other “rabbits”, and then finally a magic lady with red hair and a “wand” that makes the bunny into a real live rabbit.

My bunny cried a little, and I did, too. I kissed his little nose and said goodnight.

Ms. Betty

___________________________________________________________

The Dragon Tongue

2008-04-07T15:42:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Monday March 31, 2008 - 10:51pm (CDT)

This is the Dragon Tongue.

The Dragon Tongue is another of my devious homemade inventions.

Some time ago I found these interesting packages of multicolored "craft string" in the toy section at my local Dollar Tree. The "string" is actually hollow tubing about the diameter of spaghetti. Since my discovery I have used the tubing to make a large variety of evil implements for myself and a few close friends.

The Dragon Tongue is made from 15 stands of the tubing woven into a solid braid. Originally I thought of it as a strap, but with use I've found it acts more like a single tail. Think of the whips sled dog drivers use and you'll get the idea.

Not counting the handle, the whip measures about the length of my arm from finger tips to elbow, about half an inch wide, and just about 1/8 of an inch thick. I left about an inch of each strand unbraided to make the tip.

The Dragon Tongue got it's name because it's long, pink, rough, and each "lick" is pure fire. The lashes leave bright red weals everywhere it lands. It also happens to be nearly silent. Unfortunately, it is near impossible to bear the lashes given with it silently.

There is some debate even by my most experienced playmates as to which of my whips is the most severe, but the Dragon Tongue is definitely high on the list.

Funny thing, despite the agonizing pain of it, Terry found it was one of his favorites, one he craved the kiss of again and again.

Ms. Betty
___________________________________________________________________________

Terry's Favorite Cat

2008-04-07T15:41:00.001-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Sunday March 30, 2008 - 01:31pm (CDT)

Of all the things I used in Terry's floggings, this cat turned out to be his favorite. It is one I made myself: 9 flat braided tails with leaf ends in a sort of burgundy-brown suede.

Some of you may remember last May when I talked about dismantling my husband's old chair and recycling some of the leather, this is that leather. It is creamy soft, making for a more sensual whip. It is a favorite for warm-ups or massage flogging.

Trivia question: Does anyone know how you distingquish between a cat and a flogger?

Ms. Betty

_______________________________________________________________________

After the ears come off...

2008-04-07T15:39:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Saturday March 29, 2008 - 03:48pm (CDT)

Actually, this was taken the next morning, just after Terry got his first real flogging. We had played with a floggers a bit my first night there, but this was the first of several full floggings from warm up through to my most intense whips, 9 floggers and cats in all, plus a homemade variation on a single tail I call the Dragon's Tongue. This flogging went about an hour or so. (That is actually about standard for a proper flogging) and by the end he was one sore, striped bunny.

Sorry it's not a better picture, folks. We didn't have very good light.

The sore bottom is a result of a special visit with another Domme friend of mine, but that is a story for another post...

Ms. Betty
_____________________________________________________________________________

Happy Belated Easter

2008-04-07T15:38:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Friday March 28, 2008 - 10:23pm (CDT)

Happy belated Easter, all. I had wanted to post this picture over Easter weekend, but thanks to temperamental technology I couldn't.

Doesn't he just look adorable in those ears and that tail?

Ms. Betty

_______________________________________________________________________________

Bittersweet Morning

2008-04-07T15:36:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Wednesday March 26, 2008 - 11:45am (CDT)

She asked me what time it was, and as I told her I wistfully asked her.." no time to spank the bunny? She was sitting on the edge of the bed in jeans, and a sweatshirt brushing her beautifull red hair.

She smiled softly, and held out her arms. "Come here little bunny well make time." and gave me a final, gentle warming with her hand, and hairbrush. Our time together slipping away.

At the bus I clung to her like a child, my heart breaking. "You have to let me go little bunny." Mistress said her voice breaking. I watched her through the windows of the bus as she made her way to her seat, through a blur of tears. I could only see the outline of her face, and her slender hand waving. The airbrakes released, and the bus pulled away. I watch her out of sight, and now all I can do is cry.

DETAILED BLOGS OF MISTRESS'S VISIT, AND PICTURES WILL BE POSTED HERE, AND ON MISTRESS'S GROUPS VERY SOON.

Terry

SHE'S HERE!!!!!!!!!!

2008-04-07T15:35:00.000-07:00

happy boy happy boy happyboy!!!!!!!

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 onTuesday March 18, 2008 - 09:36pm (CDT)

she will be here in less than 8 hrs !!!!!!!...

2008-04-07T15:32:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Saturday February 16, 2008 - 12:38am (CST)

i am getting soo excited!! i'm sitting now while i can....Daydreaming about dreams coming true. i am like a child at christmas time! So much to do. clean my house. shop for groceries. I want to surprise, and delight mistress with my cooking skills.. i can't wait to serve her, and break bread with her. share my books, and music. ooohh! joy! joy! joy!! i am a very happy boy!!!I AM SO HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!

Keeping Him Busy

2008-04-07T15:30:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Monday February 11, 2008 - 04:47pm (CST)

This was part of our recent streak of intense play, but it was so much fun I decided it needed an entry of its own.

The other night I called Terry just to chat since yahoo messenger was not behaving. I was feeling playful and began to tease and torment him, making him “tickle” his shaft and balls with the bristles of a hairbrush while we talked.

Unfortunately we were interrupted. Something pressing came up and I had to run out for about 40 minutes. I wasn’t happy about it, we’d just gotten some good momentum going and I didn’t want to lose it. That’s when inspiration struck.

I told him to keep doing exactly what he was doing, keep masturbating with the hairbrush, stay hard, keep thinking of just what I was going to do to him later, but absolutely, positively do not come. For good measure I told him to snap his flexible plastic comb across the head of his shaft 5 times every 5 minutes then go back to “tickling”.

By the time I called him back he was red, sore, swollen, and very, very excited. He had obeyed me perfectly and not come.

What did I do?

I made him put 38 clothespins all over it and began story time.

Ms. Betty

Because I Can

2008-04-07T15:28:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Sunday February 10, 2008 - 06:21pm (CST)

Music throbs out of the speakers. Johnette Napolitano sings soft and low. Then the beat picks up and her voice gets louder as she begins the refrain “Because I wanna! Because I can!”

Listening to Concrete Blonde always makes me want to hurt somebody, in a very good way. (Un?) fortunately for Terry, he’s usually the one nominated these days. “Here, bunny, bunny, bunny” I call in a soft, slinky voice. And like a moth to a flame or a sailor to the call of a siren he cannot resist the pull.

I’ve hurt my little bunny a lot this week. 3 nights in a row I’ve tormented him just for the pleasure of making him wiggle and whimper and cry.

Horrible of me, isn’t it?

Well it would be, if it wasn’t for the fact that being hurt solely for the sake of my pleasure is what he likes best. It’s another one of those odd topsy-turvy quirks that makes life style kinksters so incomprehensible to outsiders. How, why, what is wrong with you people? What twisted type of person likes to hurt, and who is warped enough to take pleasure in causing that pain?

We are. And quite frankly we refuse to be ashamed of it.

For Terry, hurting for me is an offering, a gift, a testament of his dedication to me. The practice of offerings of pain and suffering is as old has human history; initiation rites, religious rituals, purifications, coming of age ceremonies…just about every culture in the world has used pain or deprivation to mark transitions. Life itself begins in a tide of pain and blood. Why wouldn’t it be natural for humans to turn back to those same things to begin new phases of that life?

But what about me? Why make someone suffer if they don’t have to? Simple. Am I to deny someone so dear to me the thing his soul most yearns for? What love or care would it show to deprive him of his deepest need? I hurt him because he needs to hurt, and because I know how to do it safely and carefully to make sure he is not harmed. Second to that there is the alchemy worked in a scene, the strength and determination forged in the heat of the pain. Each lash burns away more of his imperfections, bringing him closer to being the best man he can be.

Yes, I take pleasure in his suffering, but I do so because I know there is pleasure in it for him, too. I feel his joy in the sting of the whip, the delight in boasting of what he’s taken. These are old motives; primal motives that are mostly forgotten in our world of SUVs and instant gratification, but they should not be. The power in learning to survive an ordeal is a timeless lesson. We learn it proudly.

Ms. Betty

A New Record Every Storytime now...Ow..Ow..Owwie! ow....

2008-04-07T15:26:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Friday February 1, 2008 - 04:32am (CST)

Several months ago mistress began a new project with me. Storytime. She reads a chapter from a book every nite The evil twist is i put a clothes pin on my privates for every chapter,and leave it on all during the reading.. leave it to Mistress to take something so sweet, and make it hurt. Ooh. This might not seem like that big a deal, but by the time we get to chapter ten it is. it really hurts when they come off. A long chapter can produce very painfull results.

I'm a huge Harry Potter fan, and we started off storytime reading the last book in the series. The Deathly Hallows. Some of the chapters had me wiggling, and whimpering before she finnished reading. And yes I cried when i thought Harry was dead. Mistress was very sweet, and comforting to her goodboy. The book had 31 chapters. Mistress also enjoyed listening to me moaning as i took them off one by one.

Next we moved into some science fiction. We are both ardent Robert Heinlein fans.( Thus the theme for this page.) The next book was The cat who walked through walls. I don't remember the final chapter count, but it is a great book. Folks i tell you, it is hard to concentrate sometimes on the reading, while you are being tortured with 25 or so clothes pins on your shaft, and balls. Ooohh.

We are reading Time Enough For Love right now. A long sprawling book. We are just a little past halfway, and last nite we broke the record for our storytime count.. Thirty-two pins! Tonight made 33. Oh god. I'm going to run out of room down there. mistress just said to put them closer together...Which makes them really hurt i pointed out...."I know" She said in that honey dripped voice...Ooooh God.

goodboy

submission+affection+discipline=bliss

2008-04-07T15:24:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Friday January 18, 2008 - 04:33pm (CST)

Mistress, and i were talking the other night, and i asked her if she had remembered to send me an invitation to another of her spanking groups. She said. "No I didn't. I'll just go into the goodboy account, and put you in the group." Oooh!! A thrill went up my back! i wanted to kneel immediately. It was as if she had picked me up by the scruff of my neck, and set me down where she wanted me to be. god i felt so submissive!

We will be in the middle of a pleasent conversation, something i say trys her patience, her voice takes on this edge....".Hmmmmp." i whimper. "yes maam." conversation resumes. i am in my place. And usually i am so excited! A brief scolding from mistress..oooh! i can't describe the feeling. A bit of fear mixed with joy?

I fear her anger. i respect her discipline. But her displeasure, or worse dissappointment cuts me like a knife. What she thinks of me means everything to me. I have changed lifelong attitudes for her. my core personality remains. I am still me. But now i filter everything i say publicly through her expectations. i will not bring reproach on Mistress. And i have changed the way i think to the better. mistress will have tolerence. She will brooke no hate. i may not like you, but i must respect your right to your views. This was a struggle for me, and i still stumble. but i am trying very hard mistress.

I am spoiled rotten. I am protected. I am patiently nurtured. I am strictly disciplined. What a perfect blend of tenderness, and teeth! One moment basking in her silvery laughter, the next on fire with the red stripes of her displeasure. Always fair, but never comprimising. I am learning to do as i'm told at all times. This is as it should be. I know my place. it is naked, kneeling, eyes down. Her voice in my heart forever.

She blinded Me with...SCIENCE!!!!

2008-04-07T15:23:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Saturday January 5, 2008 - 08:22pm (CST)

I loved science. It was full of rockets, astronomy,weather, and technology. It was one subject i really got into. Even in those dark days of exhile in monterey .(I had many good times, and friends while i lived there, but they were niether present, much of the time, during school) I think that is why this spanking caught me by surprise, and hurt so much. I thought my science teacher was more enlightened i guess.

We were given an assignment to come up with a report on weather, outside our textbooks, with documentation, by the weekend. No broblem. after school i went up to bishop drugs where i had a part time job. I swept, mopped, took out the trash, and...JOY!! I took care of all the print media that came in the store. The guy would come in once a week drop off the new, and pick up the old, and it was my job to put it all up. take down the out of date, and keep it all neat. this included the magazine rack, the paperback books (yep this is where i got my MAN FROM UNCLE BOOKS, and dare i say it playboys...shhhh they didn't know) and ofcourse my favorites...The comic books.

I collected about 15 different comic books every month. part of my pay was i could keep any of the comics i collected free. cool! One of the comics in that bunch was "Lost In Space" Every issue had an article in the middle about strange but true science facts. Well! Just what the dr ordered right? Wrong! This paticular issue just happened to have an article called "Strange objects rain from the sky" It was about various things that have been known to fall to earth, including fish, frogs, and even large stones. I had heard of this before from other sources. i knew it was true. So i wrote it up. Brought the comic book to class, and gave my report.

As usual my classmates could be counted on to make my day. i was laugh at soundly. And not even allowed to finnish. "MR Kolbe please see me after class please." my science teacher was not happy. I wasn't either. I hated most of these people. i had no friends. i hated everything. I spent the rest of the hour watching Yolanda Stevens cross, and uncross her legs. time well spent.

But ofcourse all things must pass (even cheese) so all too soon i found myself facing a very disappointed science teacher. i stood by her desk head down, eyes swimming with tears as she scolded me for wasting her time, my time ,and my classmates time with comic books.This scorn for my report was demonstrated by tossing my report, and my source in her trash basket. i tried to tell her i had heard other sources for my information, but when i mentioned that source was television...

"Mr Kolbe i would hardly call television a reliable source of sientific information either. it's clear to me you did not take this assignment seriously." she reached into the top drawer of her desk , and pulled out her paddle. "perhaps you will take this seriously" I was ordered to empty my back pockets, bend over, and grab my ankles. the first smack took my breath.SMACK! The second followed quickly. "you will turn in another report monday...SMACK!....And you will not use a comic book, or telivision for a source..SMACK!! Is that clear? SMACK!! " I blubbered that it was. cry ing freely. blushing furiously.SMACK!! "Good ." she dropped the paddle back in the drawer, and pulled several kleenex from the box on her desk. "stand up Jerry." "Here straighten up a little before you leave, and no more comic books in this class..clear?" I mumbled assent as i left. "Here" she said. I turned and she handed me my comic out of her trash can

the sound of one hand clapping

2008-04-07T15:21:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Friday January 4, 2008 - 04:00pm (CST)

mistress, and i had a "discussion" about bad jokes the other nite. she let the ping pong paddle do the talking. She said that was the sound of one hand clapping. oooooh.

Ice Cream

2008-04-07T15:18:00.000-07:00

Love, Mistress

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Sunday December 30, 2007 - 07:53pm (CST)

The Twelve Days Of Mistress......

2008-04-07T15:16:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Saturday December 22, 2007 - 02:43am (CST)

On the 12th Day of christmas mistress gave to me....

12 pins for cumming

11 licks a striping

10 more for peeping

9 ways of dancing

8 days of milking

7 swats a swinging

6 weeks a slaving

5 five on my thing!!!!!!

4 colored clips

3 whip flicks

2 paddle strokes

and a switching between my kneeeeeez......

thank ya...thankya ver much....

goodboy

New Depths

2008-04-07T15:15:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Monday December 10, 2007 - 04:57pm (CST)

From the very beginning I knew Terry was different.

I’ve hinted at the deep connection we felt from our first conversation both here and on my own blog, but I’ve never really explained it in depth. There is a simple reason for that. It can’t be explained. It was just there, instant, overwhelming, and unstoppable.

I have always hated the term Mistress. It grated on my teeth to the point that the word was forbidden to my submissives. Ma’am, Ms, Miss, fine, but call me Mistress and you were going to get an ear blistering, most likely followed by a bottom blistering. I even threatened to wash someone’s mouth out with soap for using it once.

But like so many things, when it came to Terry it was completely different. The first time I heard the word from his lips, uttered in a soft, pleading tone, a jolt went through me, shaking my very core. The word was so perfect in his mouth, like a magic spell unlocking a treasure or a secret door. In that moment the shape of our relationship was sealed. I was Mistress and he was mine, utterly, totally, and completely.

This is not to say that it happened overnight, or that everything went smoothly. Even the most natural slave struggles with surrender, and my goodboy was no different. Every little stumble brought him closer, though. Soon it became clear that he had the potential, and possibly the will to take submission to the deepest possible places; the world of the slave.

The differences between submissive and slave are very subtle in some cases, elusive, and hard to articulate. They are sensed rather than known, understood fully only in the realms of the mind that do not full cross over into words.

I had him start reading the book Slavecraft by Guy Baldwin. We had some long conversations and we began consciously plumbing the depth of Terry’s submission to see if at heart he truly is the slave I suspect him to be.

Part of that exploring has been adding a new discipline method to his training. I had him purchase a car floor mat. At certain times when he needs correction to remind him of the life and path he has chosen, I have him lay it upside on the floor in his corner. I then order him to strip completely and have him kneel on the mat with his hands on his head for 15 minutes. The mat is painful, the position is humbling, and sometimes when he is there his room will go dark, leaving him softly crying in the dark as he clears his mind and brings himself back to his proper place.

I have only had to use this method twice so far, but when I do it is a very powerful and emotional experience for him. The effect is immediate. The mat stays with him in his mind. He dreads it, he fears it, and he savors the power it has to change him in an instant.

I’ve seen the change in him as he slowly becomes humbled and I marvel in it. He is still all he was when I found him, but now he is so much more as well. Life is richer, deeper, a bit more complete for him. Discovering himself has given him peace.

Most people, even some within the BDSM community don’t really understand this aspect of submission. I can’t fault them; for a long time I did not understand it myself. I do now though, and it’s wonderful. It is the bliss chased by so many and found by so few.

So much said with one simple word:

Mine.

Ms. Betty

Oh! Mistress!!

2008-04-06T21:26:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Monday November 26, 2007 - 11:19pm (CST)

I have been around Mistress long enough now that her mindset is starting to rub off on me. I was in dollar store the other day, and began to look for pervertables. (ordinary items that can be Perverted into spanking, or bdsm devices) I found a package of thin flexible plastic combs, and the lightbulb came on. If you hold the comb in one hand, aim for a sensitive spot ( like a nipple or a penis), bend it back...and SNAP!! Oh it stings! I thought mistress would like them, and i was right. I get them on my most sensitive places all the time, and the package of combs went into the toybox. I said all that to say this....

It had became a game between us that when a thunderstorm came up She or i would count the thunder claps, and that would account for the # of strokes i would recieve next play time. Well snowstorms have now replaced thunder, but My Mistress never skipped a beat. She made me go to my weather site, and count the # of states that had recieved snow that night. I reported 17.

"Drop those pants" She said with an evil grin. I complied with a small whimper. I got seventeen snaps on the sensitive underside of my shaft with the biggest of the combs. I gasped at each snap, and gave out little moans. This set the tone for the rest of this play session. rough, painfull, and very sensual. As soon as she got my pants the rest of the way off she started me off with a warm up with that stingy flyswatter. Completely covering my bare bottom, and thighs with a long hard series of strokes. She replaced the swatter with a thick wooden spatula, and began blistering me good. I began to vocalize. Quiet pain filled moans ,and the splat! splat !splat !of that spatula filled the room. After scorching my bottom, she moved down to the back of my thighs. " Oh god" i said. "Oh god!" That spatula hurt!

Mistress usually plays rough. We both love it that way. She upped the pain level, getting the groove strap, and setting my rear end on fire! Oohhhh! That thing hurts! And i was getting it fast,and hard. At this point i began to sob. i was wiggling my bare bottom, and the words "oh please!" began. She moved to the backs of my thighs, and started a fire there. When she stopped it was only to switch to the candy strap. A thicker heavier thing made from a colorfull braided plastic junp rope. oh my god. I began to cry openly as she made lightening on my bare fanny! This thing has an incredible sting! After a long series there she striped the back of my thighs with pure fire. I began beg.

God this was a long hot whipping. She changed to the rod! I gave out a small whimper. And the fire fell on my bottom again. She had given me a brief respite before starting with the rod so i was able to take the series on my rear with just moans.Then she began on the back of my thighs, and the wiggling ,gasping,begging returned in earnest. "Oh please!" "Oh god!" "Oh please..it hurts!" It had been cold in the room, when she started, now i was hot. When she stopped with the rod i asked if we could pause long enough for me to take my shirt off. "Ok." she said."Get it off."

Earlier that evening Mistress had told one of her groups that she felt like some grilled, baked Goodboy. This is a technique where she takes a paddle, and "bakes in" The welts she has put there with thin whippy implements. She told me to get the ping pong paddle,and spanked all the places she had just welted. I got a long hard series on my bottom,and then she finnished baking the hot welts on my thighs. OOhhhh. I just cried.

"Where is that little paint stirrer?" Mistress asked cheerfully. (this is never good..lol) Next thing i knew i was on my back, legs open, getting that paint stirrer applied to the underside of my shaft, as i gasped, and moaned at each hard slap. next came a wooden spoon. This was given on the top, and sides of my now hard shaft. Oh god. I was in heaven! "Get out that switch." Mistress's voice dripped honey. Oh my god. She made me tickle myself all over down there with that switch. God that was hot.Having been whipped with that switch before. knowing i was about to be whipped with it again...She made me tickle it for a long time, then I was switched all over hard. my bare bottom,thighs ,inner thighs were set on fire with that thin whippy switch. God i love being switched between my legs. mistress obliged. Finnishing with a hot series all over my shaft. I lay there naked. drenched in sweat. Red, and striped all over.

Now it was CBT, and story time. Clothes pins are applied to my shaft & balls, and mistress reads a chapter in the latest Heinlein novel we are sharing. The pins stay on until the chapter is finnished....Ooh god! One pin for each chapter. we are up to chapter 14 tonight. but that's another blog.......

Terry

surrender...submission....Joy.

2008-04-06T21:25:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Wednesday November 14, 2007 - 12:54pm (CST)

Having passed through a very rough period between us ,in which i finally began to learn true submission, Mistress,and i are basking in the quiet joy of each other's company,and are able to play again. I accept total responsability for this period mistress, and humbly apologise for the frustration i caused you.

When you say no the answer is no.

When i am told not to do a thing i will not do it.

When i am told to do somthing i will do it when i am told to.

When i am told that my behavior is unacceptable i will not offer arguments, or excuses.

i will answer questions quickly,and accurately

And yes maam..i am responsible for the choices i make, and the consequences from them.

I am Betty's goodboy again....

terry

Like It Was Yesterday....Origin Of A Goodboy.

2008-04-06T21:08:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Tuesday October 30, 2007 - 10:41pm (CDT)

I was very new to the internet, and 360. I had been on 360 a month or so, when I was introduced to Ms Betty by a mutual friend. Our very first conversation , it was as if we had known each other for ages. I felt completely at ease, she was a joy to talk to. Witty,humorous, and we seemed to connect on several levels at once. Music...books...art. We are both ardent Heinlein fans. I knew in that first conversation I had made a friend.

By the second conversation we were talking about spanking in general, and the conversation drifted to "her boys". The affection in her voice was very evident. At some point in this conversation I started calling her "maam".

I have always had a submissive side. Always been attracted to female authority figures (like the teachers that paddled me in Monterey). I was disciplined by an aunt as a young boy...ooh. but i had always suppressed this part of me for the most part. Now suddenly I felt it.. Oohhh I felt it! I wanted a spanking. From Ms betty.

During that second time we talked I first broached the subject that "I might find a spanking interesting..." And at11:49 pm, may the seventh, 2007.... I called her mistress for the first time. (my eyes are brimming with tears just now.) It seemed to fit like a glove. I could feel myself wanting to submit to her.

It was during our third conversation I began to see the level of intensity that Ms betty plays at. She began talking about rubber paddles..wooden school type paddles, and the fact that she spanks to tears. ooh. i was scared. i was also drawn like a moth to the flame. I had tasted the water, now it was time to drink.

I was very smitten with Mistress. i was like a schoolboy with a crush on his teacher. She began teaching me too, right from the start. I didn't know the meaning of a word,and we looked it up in the dictionary.There were news stories we talked about. I began to need to please her. Fear her. Hurt when I disapointed her. it was9:15 pm, May 9th that she called me a good boy for the first time. (eyes are burning again)

I was hearing more ,and more about Mistress's "Naughty boys" This one said that...That one got this.. I began to long to be a part of this "family" Her pride in them, and her affection for them was so sweet. And she was very defensive!! Like a momma lion with cubs. the messege was very clear..."nobody messes with mine..." I began to work up the courage to ask her.

I was so shy, and so embarrassed that day! I felt like an eight year old talking to an adult! I couldn't bring myself to ask her outright so I made up a short role play story.

A boy stands in front of you, hands deep in pockets head down. Won't look up. Can't look up. Blushing furiously. "Can i be...am i...um" Tracing patterns on floor with toe of tenis shoe.... "yes?" Mistress asked... Looks up. Eyes brimming with tears. "am i one of your naughty boy too?" And Mistress said. "yes you are." And she sent me a drawing of a young man over a woman's knee. "here take your present."

i am very proud to call myself Bettys Goodboy. And i know even when i don't measure up to the name that Mistress still loves me. Like tonight. i will be being punnished for doing something impulsive,and as such stupid. I am very sorry mistress.

terry

Birched For Church

2008-04-06T21:05:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Wednesday October 10, 2007 - 06:48pm (CDT)

A few days ago I read a post on the spanking blog about a woman who get spanked by her husband before church to help her pay attention during the service.

Believer in gender equality that I am, I didn't see any reason why Terry couldn't have the same advantage; so this evening I decided to send him to services with a nice hot, tender bottom.

He cut me a fresh switch today; a nice whippy one. While he was out there he happened to come across a number of almost uniform thinner branches. He harvested them as well, bound them and low and behold... goodboy had a birch!

He was waiting for me in his room, naked, about an hour before he had to be in church.

He got on the bed and we set to work, birch first, then switch. Goodboy got whipped all over, even THERE as he says in the breathy voice. When we finished he was hot, sore and striped all over.

I drew it out, letting him thinking were were done, then going back to it again a few times before finally letting him up to get dressed.

Then off he went to church with a striped, stinging bottom to help him pay attention to the sermon.

Can't wait to hear the results.

Ms. Betty

I answered Mistress in the comments to this blog....

surrender

2008-04-06T21:03:00.001-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Sunday October 7, 2007 - 02:21pm (CDT)

Men fix things. It's what we do. We brake something we try to fix it. This gets us in trouble with women. Moms,Wives,girlfriends, most definately mistresses. When a woman is mad a man should do two things shutup, and listen. When she is ready she will let you know what you did wrong, and how to fix it. In the case of Mistress they will fix you. from now on when Mistress is mad I will have nothing to say, except yes maam, and no maam. I surrender mistress..

I made the mistake (again) of trying to explain myself during a scolding from Mistress.Conversation over. I was dismissed. Mistress had had enough.

Hours later I was back in the same scolding. Told to shut up, and listen. After a brief dangerously quiet scolding told to get the rod, and the paddle out of my toybox, and get my pants off. I was scared. I could tell by Mistresses attitude I was in serious trouble. i was right, and scared for good reason.

Mistress took that rod to my bare bottom hard for fifty strokes. I began whimpering, and gasping. She switched to the paddle, and spanked the welts she just whipped onto my bottom! Oh god!! It hurt. It burned.I started sobbing as the paddle was replaced by the rod again, and fire was applied to my backside. Nothing I have hurts like that plastic switch. Sometimes I don't think I can stand much more of it. But I do. Breaking position or trying to evade punnishment is not an option. The rod was put down, and the paddle used again on the fiery welts . I was suspended in time. This spanking was never going to end. I began to wail in ernest. "oh please!" i said very meekly. Mistress picked up the rod again, and began on my thighs.

That rod set the backs of my thighs on fire! It's an incredibly intense implement. I began to seriously beg. Mistress switched to a 1/4 inch thick wooden spatula, and whipped the hot red welts on my thighs. And so it went. Fifty with the rod, and fifty with the spatula. This was an attitude adjustment. And her point was going to be made.

I cried. I begged. I finally broke down, and just wailed.."I'll be good!! I'll be good!! Oh please!! I'll be good!!" When she was satisfied with the work she was doing there She switched to another favorite of hers, the candy strap. (About a foot and a half of a braided plastic jump rope) She whipped the inside of each thigh fifty strokes. I was incohernt by this time. Blubbering,crying, and I had developed the hiccups. After fifty strokes with the spatula. it was over. i was told to put my toys away. I was allowed to rub. I continued to cry, and whimper for some time. And I sobbed. "I'm sorry mistress!" "I won't argue with you anymore!"

Mistress told me it was alright now. it was all over. That i was her goodboy,and that she loved me very very much. I hicupped.

But I understand Mistress. I surrender. I won't argue with you anymore. i am sorry, and ashamed.

submissively,

Terry

It Was A Wet Stormy Night....

2008-04-06T20:57:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Friday September 28, 2007 - 02:36pm (CDT)

Mistress was in a mood to play. This is always good! This is always a thrill ride for me too, because Mistress playes rough. I asked her If she was going to hurt her good boy, and she replied "OH Yes!" In that voice that sends shivers down my spine. "I think so."

I was told to fetch a bowl of ice cubes. Get the rod (a thin very flexible plastic switch a little over a foot, and a half long.), and to get my clothes off. Ooh! Instant submission! Nothing will put this man in submissive mode faster than being stripped naked in Mistress presence! Knowing that the rod will soon be applied anywhere she pleases..oh god.

An ice cube was applied to my bare bottom cheeks until it was all gone causing moans of pain mixed with pleasure, followed with 25 hard fast strokes with the rod! Now the serious moans ,and cries began. Another ice cube was melted on the backs of my thighs, and 25 hard fast strokes of the rod applied there. Cries of "Oh God!" and "Please!" began at this point, as I moaned, and wiggled from the fire of the rod.

I was a very submissive boy now. The ice being applied to my naked body left it wet cold ,and incredibly sensitive. the rod , mistress told me, was the lightening, in this cold wet night. The ice was melted on my inner thighs, and they were switched with the rod. I was crying now. The ice was applied to my balls next. the rod wasn't needed here the ice caused a deep ache that had me moaning loudly,writhing, begging. Mistress stopped when the cube was gone. She loves me to beg, but it has no outcome on what she is doing. The next cube was for my shaft. Oh my god! I was instantly rock hard! It was agony, and esctacy! I moaned , and wiggled like a fish out of water. A part of my mind wondering if the rod was coming.

mistress answered that question by begining on my nipples. The ice was like cold fire! God it hurt! my sensitive nipples sprang to rock hardness. I cried out desperately. I begged. I moaned ceaselessly. Then the rod fell! "OH God!""Oh please mistress!" "Oh god! It hurts!" Twenty-five strokes delivered hard to each breast. Lightening striking my icey-sensitive nipples Twenty five times!

When I finally calmed down I heard Mistress telling me to put my toys away. That when I put my toys away I could rub. Her soothing voice telling me what a good boy I was. I was limp as a wet noodle. Drained. And incredibly happy. I'm watching the weather. Hoping for another wet cold night....with lightening.

Terry

teacher's Meeting

2008-04-06T20:55:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Friday September 21, 2007 - 08:27pm (CDT)

Once a month we have a group that meets for dinner where i work called the Pilot's club. It is comprised mainly of teachers. I was talking to Mistress about how flustered, and excited her good boy got being around all those strict looking teachers. Carrying things for them. Opening doors. yes maam no maam..thank you maam..lol."Hmmn." Said Mistress. (oh oh..Mistress is thinking.) "I wonder how a goodboy would feel around all those strict teachers with a hot bottom?"

"Ooh Mistress! I exclaimed. "Are you going to whip your goodboy before he goes to work?"

"Yes I think I am." she teasingly answered me.

Next thing I knew I was naked, and Misstress was using every thin whippy thing in my box it seemed. she set my bare bottom,and legs on fire with the groove strap. moved on to the fiery candy strap, and continued. I was crying by this time. Wiggling sobbing. Soon the begging would start. She got out the rod, and scorched me again...

"OOOHH! Mistress!!" I wailed. "I'll be goood!!! OOOHH Please!!"

Mistress whipped until she was finnished, told me to get dressed , and sent me to work.. It was incredible! I felt so submissive. I had a hot sore bottom,and thighs, that made themselves known with every movement I made. And all those teachers! Oh!! I was in heaven.!! I made them roast beef, mashed potatos,gravy,green beans,a salad, and peach cobbler. And I served it to them.

I got to talk to a group of about 15 of them for a bit. i told them about Mrs. lewis. All the things she had done for me. how she had protected me from bullies, and given me books. (that I still have.) And then it became verry sweet ,and personal to me. I met an older teacher that actually knew mrs. lewis.Oh what a night!!

My Favorite Spanking

2008-04-06T20:52:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Monday September 10, 2007 - 02:51pm (CDT)

I had been given two weeks, like everybody else to choose a character, and a soliloquy from Romeo and Juliet. We all were suppose to get up and read it in front of the class. I hated Shakespeare. Still do. He speaks in poetry.Who speaks in poetry? Plus i was keenly aware of how funny my classmates thought my yankee accent was. I dreaded any times I had to speak at all in class. Now this. I put it off, and put it off, and now the deadline was past . I was in trouble with my favorite teacher. The only Teacher in Monterey Highschool that had actually become friendly with me.

I was tol by Mrs. Lewis That I had been given plenty of time. There wasn't going to be any excuses. And to remain after class. I was crushed! This was my champion. I talked to Mrs. Lewis about everything. She gave me books.(I still have them Mrs. Lewis) Now she was going to beat me like all the rest. Even knowing I was the one in the wrong.That it was my own fault. I still felt betreyed. My eyes burned.

The rest of the hour past.The bell rang, and the class emptied quickly as people headed for their lockers,and home. Mrs. Lewis got up walked to her door,and closed it. I gathered my books ,and made my way to the front of the class. I set my books on a front row desk,and looked at my favorite teacher with glassy hurt eyes.

"Terry Terry Terry" She said with her usual smile."what are we going to do? " She walked around her desk sat on it's edge, and folded her arms.

And then something wonderfull happened!! She listened to my fears. She stated her position. Then we worked out the solution. She had heard me many times talking with an english accent I got from The Beatle cartoon show, and The Avengers. She had also noticed how the girls reacted when I talked that way. So it was decided. I would be reading.."To be or not to be..." In the voice of John Lennon..

So my champion didn't beat me. Not then. Not ever. She encouraged me nurtured me. Defended me . I am thinking of you right now Mrs. Lewis. And I am crying.

Goodboys don't learn...

2008-04-06T20:49:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Wednesday September 5, 2007 - 11:26pm (CDT)

The other day Terry came home to report that he had cussed 9 times in a single day.

NINE!!!

On top of it he tried to talk me out of punishing him for it, claiming that it was just a bad day and there was nothing more to be said about it. Funny I don’t remember ever saying that the rules only applied on good days or that he got a free pass because things didn’t go his way. We all have those dark cloud days. If we all used them as excuses to act as ugly as we wanted the human race would exterminate itself in a matter of weeks. Such things spread, and we have more than enough ugliness in this world without choosing to make more.

So no, no clemency for Terry; in fact his attitude just made things worse. My number one rule is that when you behave badly you face the consequences; you don’t try to duck out.

I punished him severely.

His punishment started with 9 minutes in the corner, 9 clothespins clipped to his privates. When they came off he asked for permission to rub the ache. I told him no, we were just getting started on his punishment. That was when he first realized just how much trouble he was in.

Next came 900 assorted swats and strokes.

First he got 50 on each cheek, 50 on the back of each thigh and 50 on the inside of each thigh with the flyswatter.

Next came 50 each place with the groove strap.

After that, 50 in each place with the candy strap.

And then it was time to get out the rod for the last part of his punishment: 9 hard strokes on his shaft. He was still sore from the clothespins so they were very hard for him to endure.

He’d been crying since we started using the groove strap, but now he become incoherent with sobs.

After they were done I let him catch his breath for a few minutes then told him to get the hot sauce. New fear, he was afraid it was going to be rubbed into his welts. I did that to him once and they burned all night. But no, I only made him put 9 drops on his tongue, plus an extra 3 for balking at my order to fetch the bottle. Then I put him back in the corner.

After that you’d think he’d learn, but apparently not. He just reported swearing two more times today.

Now just what am I going to do with him?

Ms. Betty

Saving The Seventh Grade From Comunism

2008-04-06T20:48:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Tuesday September 4, 2007 - 11:34pm (CDT)

I don't know what it had to do with math, but Mrs Brown was always talking about the red menace. This was 1966. President Kennedy had stared down the Russians, and made them take their missles out of cuba. We were eyeball to eyeball with each other in Europe, and Korea. Vietnam was starting to be a real shooting war. Everybody knew if you wanted to get Mrs. Brown's mind off of math just start talking about the Russians . I didn't give two hoots about the Russians, or math. But I got pretty good at disracting mrs. brown with my knowledge of current events. When she caught on to what i was doing I wasn't her favorite student either.

Outside her windows leaves were falling like rain, thousands of them from the dense line of trees behind the school.The sky was crisp,and blue. When she called on me to solve whattever problem was on the green chalkboard i didn't answer. I was deep inside the secret THRUSH base Resquing Napoleon Solo,again.

Nobody liked me nobody warned me. the first inkling i had that I'd been busted was when she snatched my MAN FROM UNCLE book from me,and read the title out loud to the class.

"THE DIVING DAMES AFFAIR?" "Are you The Man fromUNCLE Terry?"

No I'm the yankee boy getting laughed at again. My favorite pass time. You would think I'd be used to it. But you never get used to being laughed at by your peers when your 13 years old.

Mrs. Brown walked back to her desk with me in tow, and opened the drawer to her desk. In went my book out came that big mean paddle, with the knotch missing from the tip. The same one Mrs. Roberson had used on me the week before. I was blushing furiously . I could'nt look at my smirking classmates i stared at the floor. My eyes stung with tears of shame.

Lucky for me Mrs Brown was one of those teachers who believed that a spanking was a private thing. I was led out into the desertted hallway, and as I was being scolded about paying attension in class another teacher was being summoned by a classmate to be a witness. Wonderfull! It was Mrs. Roberson Looking at me with that look that said."insect." I stood eyes stinging with tears as they discussed my short comings, and lack of a future , and then it was time. I was told to hand my wallet to mrs Roberson, and grab my ankles.

SMACK! the intensity of that sting was incredible!SMACK! "oh!" i couldn't help it.SMACK! " OOH!" God it hurt! SMACK!SMACK!! " Oh!" SMACK! "Ooh please!" I didn't care anymore. i was crying. It burned ! SMACK!

I was told to stand , and given my wallet. I stood rubbing,and sniviling, and was lectured once again about paying attension. Now came the fun part. Now I got to walk back into a room full of enemies who had just heard me spanked to tears! My ears were hot I was blushing so much. I tried not to see their smirks or hear the scorn. I heard,and saw it all. The rest of the hour was an eternity.

The world safe from comunism ,the bell finally rang. Everyone filed out looking over their shoulders at me as I hung back at her desk. The drawer opened. The paddle went in, and my book came out. Mrs Brown handed me my book telling me the next one she caught me with was hers. I made it a point to bring library books to her class from then on.

Justice For Bad Jokes

2008-04-06T20:45:00.001-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Tuesday August 21, 2007 - 11:31am (CDT)

A couple weeks back Terry and I were having a little “debate” about the nature of humor, specifically whether or not bad puns and other really awful jokes ought to be a spankable offense.

There are hazards to spanking a former hippie. Somewhere down the line phrases such as “free speech” and “oppression of brats everywhere” came up. Terry told me he was sure that if “the people” spoke they would be behind him, helping him ensure his right to torment me with bad jokes.

So we held an election. Poor Terry, his people did not come through. Despite his tireless campaigning over the days, the brats did not stand shoulder to shoulder with him. He lost, and was left on his own to face the punishment for criminal puns.

I let him have a day to brood over the lack of loyalty in his brethren (and sisteren) while I decided what punishment fit this crime.

The next evening he was still pouting a bit, but still this whole thing was meant to be playful, so I decided to leave part of it up to chance. I decided on 5 sets of strokes, one set for each of the bad jokes. But how to decide how many strokes? At that point, a storm broke and the roll of thunder overhead brought inspiration; one stroke for each roll of thunder.

Unfortunately for Terry, it stormed for several hours. He sat there waiting as I counted off the rolling booms. When it slowed down he checked the radar only to discover that as one storm was moving out, another was moving in right behind it. “Nooooo,” he wailed.

3 ½ hours later the sky finally cleared, and the official count was 62 rolls of thunder. Poor goodboy. He was in very serious trouble.

Hail To The Chief

2008-04-06T20:43:00.001-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Saturday August 18, 2007 - 05:39pm (CDT)

My down hill slide from honor roll student to acedemic failure had progressed to the point in 1967 that I found myself in the special education class. Quite a feat for someone who had just tested at115 on an IQ test. I was so unhappy where I was I just didn't care. While my classmates were struggling to master "readin writin an rithmatic" I was reading books I would hide In my text books...Meleville, Sandburg,Poe, and pulp fiction like westerns,ww2, and spy thrillers. My teacher knew I wasn't stupid She just had no way to penetrate the protective shell I had erected between myself, and the philistines. or so i thought.

We had spent...well they had spent the last two weeks memorizing the names of the u.s. presidents. I was called on to recite them , and managed to name a few, but it was obvious I hadn't been studying them. There were five or six clueless others, and after all that time teacher was not pleased with our progress. She anounced that anyone not able to get through the entire list by week's end would feel her new student made paddle. One lick for each president not named. What ever.

Now the special-ed class being the armpit of Monterey High school was located in the basement. what they did was wall off the back half of the girl's dressing room, and voila! we have a home for the losers. Can you imagine how much us poor male students were able to concentrate knowing what was on the other side of that wall? And it didn't even go all the way to the ceiling of the room. Just high enough to make sure there weren't any peekers.(rats!) But every hour all day long...we could hear them.

The week passed. I tried I really did, but it was just too many names in too little time.I came up six presidents short of a load. Doomed, and scared I watched the hands on the classroom clock race to my execution. Lunchtime. Everybody filed out some giggling, some learing at me, as they left. i was called to the front of the classroom. To my teacher's large wooden desk.

I was told to take everything out of my pockets, and lay them on her desk. My heart hammering in my chest i complied.I made eye contact with her my eyes glassey with tears. I was a failure in a class of failures. She told me she was sorry, but that she had to follow through with her threat. She tapped her desk telling me to bend over, and place my elbows on the top. She gripped the waist band of my cordaroy belbottoms pulling them up tight, and slapped my bottom hard! The foot long paddle with holes for extra sting, burned like fire!!

WHAP!! With the first swat the chatter of the third period girl's jim class ceased. Suddenly You could hear a pin drop! Oh god! Great. WHAP!! I gasped. I could'nt help it. I knew all those girls were listening to me get it. I knew it would be all over the school who it was too. I couldn't help it that paddle stung like fire!! WHAP!! I moaned. WHAP!! "Oh!" I was crying freely now. WHAP!! " OOH!!"

"Last one" She coached me. WHAP!! "Now I want those final six presidents by monday Terry , Is that understood?" I mumbled that it was listening to giggles of the girls on the other side of the wall as they returned to full babble. She ruffled my hair telling me I had taken my licks like a good boy, and to go ahead to lunch.

I didn't go to lunch. I climbed the concrete stairs turned left insteasd of right, and made my way out the back gate into the stacks of the lumber yard. i sat , and cried for awhile. Then leaving everything I'd brought to school behind I walked home. There was a white police car in front of my house. i didn't care.

The Return Of The Hotsauce

2008-04-06T20:38:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 Thursday August 9, 2007 - 08:38am (CDT)

Very displeased with my constant failure to stop swearing mistress began my punnishment with 100 switch strokes. 50 on each side of my bottom.. Then 50 more on the back of each thigh. then came the real heat! She made me apply my habanero hotsauce to the just switched areas ,and continued with the switch. this process was repeated until mistress was satisfied ,and I was on fire! After a few minutes I was allowed to wash the hotsauce off.

Then I recieved the required number of strokes on my shaft with the rod. Ooh god! Punnishment concluded mistress comforted me. read the latest harry potter installment to me,and put me to bed. Even after washing myself the burn from the hotsauce on my switched thighs lasted well into the night.....

Adventures in Hotsauce

2008-04-06T20:34:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Sunday August 5, 2007 - 10:53pm (CDT)

As some of you know, I am on a campaign to clean up Terry's language.

I am using many tools accomplish this. One of them is a variation on the old carrot and stick or carrot and rod as it were.

The premise is simple. If he makes it through the day without swearing he is allowed to come at bedtime. If he swears he does not get to come, and gets a number of strokes with the shaft with the rod. Right now the penalty is 2 for each swear word.

In order for this to be truly effective I have stopped letting him come any other time than when he earns it at the end of the day. He is allowed to massage to relieve the ache that builds up after a few foul mouthed days, but he may not orgasm.

Well, the other day he had a little accident.

I was not at all happy about that. I made him get the hot sauce and rub it into his shaft. It took a moment, but it started to burn intensely. the burn lasted about 15 minutes, and he suffered miserably the whole time.

When it was done he was so sore he didn't want to touch himself at all for about a day.

I think he'll be a little more careful in the future.

Ms. Betty

Warning, May Cause Hiccoughs If Taken In Excess

2008-04-06T20:32:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Saturday August 4, 2007 - 09:06pm (CDT)

The other night I came up with a clever way to deal with Terry’s sometimes smart mouth. I had him fetch his bottle of habanero sauce and drop 6 drops on his tongue. It worked, but it produced an unexpected side effect. He started to hiccough violently!

It was a bit odd “oh God” (hiccough) “ooh it (hiccough) burns” “Ooh” (hiccough)

My poor goodboy. Each hiccough sucked fumes down his throat and made the pepper sauce burn all the worse. It was horrible, and hilarious. It was all I could do to keep from laughing.

For Terry, of course, it was not funny at all at the time. Now that a little time has passed he’s starting to see the humor in it, though.

And I think he’s going to watch his mouth a little better, too.

Cuss free for almost 2 whole days! I’m so proud!

Ms. Betty

A Lesson In Humility

2008-04-06T20:28:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Tuesday July 31, 2007 - 09:02pm (CDT)

Terry is a bright boy. He is very smart and knows a lot about a lot of things. Unfortunately, he sometimes thinks he knows more than he does, and then wants to argue about it. This never goes well for him, especially when he forgets rule # 1 and decides to pick a fight with Mistress of all people. For such a bright boy that really is a not very bright thing to do.

“It’s time you learned some humility,” I told him last night. And the lesson was long and hard.

We started with the flyswatter, on his bottom, then the back of his thighs, and then the insides of his thighs, just for good measure.

After that came the groove strap. He started to whimper a bit as the end bit into his bottom, then into the tender flesh of his thighs.

Once he was warmed up the spanking began in earnest. A nice supple switch came down on his bottom again and again and again. At some point the count was lost, but it did not matter, the switch kept teaching its lesson. Soon it too found it’s way down the backs of his thighs.

By this time Terry was begging, pleading, promising to be good. But it wasn't quite desperate enough. There were not enough sobs, not enough tears, so we continued.

After the switch came a long, hard set with his candy strap, a thick grooved plastic cord in rainbow colors like a child’s favorite sweet. There is nothing sweet about the way it sets his bottom on fire, though. Now he really was sobbing. We were almost there.

I used a thicker switch, again at a rapid pace. The pleas had stopped, now there were just sobs as the spanking finished. When it was done he lay on the bed, sobbing. When he finally found he voice he told me every inch of himself was on fire.

I spoke a few words of comfort to sooth him. But, unfortunately we still weren’t quite done.

A few weeks ago we started a new program to clean up Terry’s language. Each swear word used each day meant one stroke across his shaft with that rod he hates so much. That wasn’t quite enough so now it’s 2 strokes for each time he swears.

Last night’s count was 5 swear words. 10 strokes. I made him reach down and “tickle” as he calls it, until he was full erect. Then we got out the rod. The strokes were delivered with force, one right after the other. Each made him gasp and moan. But he got through them.

At long last the lesson was over. He put the “toys” away and I let him rub his sore places before I put him to bed.

I think it will be awhile before he decides he wants to pick a fight again.

Ms. Betty

So Here's To You Mrs. Robberson....

2008-04-06T20:25:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Sunday July 29, 2007 - 02:33pm (CDT)

I was a loner a bookworm , and i had come to hate school. None of these things made me very popular with Mrs. Robberson. A Wisconsin yankee in a Tennessee school I was constantly the target of bullys totally ignored by girls,and a problem for most of my teachers. mostly because I couldn't have cared less what they were saying, and I just wanted to be back in Wisconsin.

This was the1960s there were no pantyhose yet girls were still wearing garterbelts, and stockings. Being a leg man (even if they all did hate me) a glimps of bare thigh above a girl's stockings was a thrilling thing. Much more so than what ever Mrs. Robberson was babbling about. I had a small two inch mirror which i was using to look up Yolanda Stevens skirt. Yolanda Stevenswas a beautifull dark haired girl with those mesmurizing babyfat thighs that have driven young men crazy since the dawn of time. At this moment a good two inches of bare crossed leg were showing above her stockings too!

Next thing I knew the guy next to me was slapping my arm, and telling me the teacher was talking to me. And ther she stood. All four,and a half feet of her. Did I mention that she was a short hunchbacked woman? Arms folded across her chest looking at me like she was looking at a dirty diaper.

"Give me that mirror young man you are not going to look up girl's dresses in my classroom." She said coldly. "Billy go get me Mrs. Brown's paddle."

Oh my god!There I was in front of the whole class, bent over grabbing my ankles. Being paddled, and scolded about looking up girls dresses! I wish I could tell you I remembered all the details, but I tried to forget that day as soon as I could. I do remember the sting of that paddle! iremember it seemed to go on forever. The longest six licks in history to me. I remember the paddle too. It was over a foot long, dark wood. It was scarred ,and had a chip out of one end. It stung like fire!!

There was a strange reaction from most of the girls that day. After that girls would pull up their skirts, and flash some leg. Or cross their legs , and smile in class. The bolder ones would occassionally just open their legs. Still a yankee in the south of 1966 though none of them ever went out with me. I spent my entire 6th, 7th, and 8th grade years without a date.

switches

2008-04-06T20:22:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Sunday July 22, 2007 - 02:32pm (CDT)

I used to hate switches. God they sting, and burn after! Nothing feels quite like a switch on bare legs. And having to go get one. Knowing what it's going to be used for.Hoping nobody sees you getting it!! Having to get it ready to use...hmmmnnmp.

Last nite Mistress and i were talking and the subject of switches came up.I said something about it being a while since she had used one. Mistress said "We need to get back to that." Well... I was basking in my mistresses atension..., and feeling very sumissive. Sooo I said.."I would go get u one if you asked me to mistress." " Do that." She said. and when I made a few comments about..a few minutes she said. "Fetch!"

Ohhhhh god. I said immediately. "I'm going to get one right now maam." What is the deal? I had started getting hard the minute Mistress said "Do that." Now I was as excited as a teenager on prom night! I was actually looking foward to being whipped with a switch! I know part of that is because I'm becoming a little pain puppy, but it is also deeper than that.

I am truley becoming a submissive. Betty's Goodboy. And that means that pleasing my mistress is soo important to me. When I know that something I've done has made her happy...HAPPY BOY HAPPY BOY!!! When i said i was going ..."Right now." to get her a switch Mistress said...."Goodboy!!" I was in heaven. I had all my mistresses attension, and i was making her happy. And iwas about to get a good hot whipping..

But the point is it's not important that i like switches. What was important to Betty's goodboy was that I knew that she liked switches.

Watch What You Say

2008-04-06T20:20:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Saturday June 30, 2007 - 09:20pm (CDT): terry is a good boy. He really is. He tries very hard to do his best every day. Sometimes he says something without thinking, though. We he does it always gets him in trouble.

Earlier this week I was not happy to hear his observation that a “typical female” is always on the phone. There are many terms for the fairer sex: woman, lady, girl, etc. I think referring to a woman or girl as just “female” is somewhat disrespectful. Animals are female, people are women or ladies. Calling a woman “female” in that tone is dehumanizing. Just plain rude.

It did not help matters that Terry and I talk on the phone quite frequently. He is one of 3 or 4 people outside of my family that I ever call. Did our frequent conversations mean he thought of me in that disparaging manner? Did he see me as some chattering airhead filling his ears with nonsense while he had better things to do?

I am all too aware that I have plenty of other things to do. Perhaps terry needed to see that, too. To that end I have focused on finishing up a number of projects. We have not chatted at all until this evening.

Later I will call him after an absence of several days.

Somehow I don’t think he will find that conversation the least bit “typical”.

Ms. Betty

Sticks and Stones

2008-04-06T15:14:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Wednesday June 13, 2007 - 02:38pm (CDT)

Whoever said sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me has never spent over two hours being scathingly scolded by Ms Betty. Before it was over I would have gladly traded an hour with the rod for the tounge lashing she gave me.

It started off as a harmless exchange of lines from one of our favorites the late Warren Zevon, and before I knew it this "Excitable Boy" was in serious trouble. I said something about wishing she had shared some information with me, and just like that the pleasnt exchange was over.

"I was trying." She said. "You weren't that interested in listening."

The voice had become ice. Sharp. very focused. A lasar beam that began to cut with surgical percision. What had I been told? What had been expected of me. How miserably I had failed. Why could I not just listen? She pointed out how I failed, but what really hurt was she didn't settle for just lecturing me. No. I had to participate in the disection.

There were lots of questions. I had to give the right answer, not just an answer. I had to repeat key points.over, and over. This is where i bagan to cry. How can a compliment hurt so much?

"I know you are better than this."

Oh that's how. She began to really scold now.

"Tell me you are going to do better."

"Again."

"One more time. Tell me ."

"I am going to severly punnish you, and will do it again If you waiver."

I had to repeat why my failure was so damaging to people in my life. Three times I had to rub my own nose in how important better performance was. And told it was expected. At this point I made the mistake of interupting her to try to explain why I had acted the way I had.

"LET ME FINNISH!!"

"Until I tell you otherwise you are only to give me direct answers to my questions.You are not to speak otherwise,Do you understand?"

Oh God! I won't make that mistake again.(ok I will, but it will be a loooonngg time.) She scolded. I listened. She asked questions. I gave very brief answers. I was openly crying by this time. I just wanted it to be over. I was miserable. It was far from over.

mistress betty

2008-04-06T15:10:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Wednesday May 30, 2007 - 03:09am (CDT)

This is my mistress. She does not spare the rod, but she does spoil the child...sometimes. She decorated this page. She found the Heinlein cover.Got me my army men. Showed me how to do all kinds of things that I needed to know how to do online,and be safe.

She is my disciplinarian. My mentor. my friend.

I've lost count of the family, and personal problems she has waded into, helped me to solve. She didn't solve them for me. She helped me to solve them. So I would grow as a person. And thank you mistress. I have.

spare the rod

2008-04-06T15:08:00.001-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Sunday May 27, 2007 - 02:36pm (CDT)

ever see a mouse stare at a snake? Thats me looking at the plastic rod. It's a small plastic switch mistress uses to set me on fire! I love (hate) the #&%#* thing. It stings like fire on my bottom or thighs, and ohhhh god when she uses it down there it is terrible! It feels like lightning! I moan , i beg, I cry, and she whips me with it untill she is through. I keep screaming , and begging ,and crying anyway cause mistress loves to hear me "sing". She won't spare the rod.

Terry Gets A Whipping

2008-04-06T15:05:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Wednesday May 23, 2007 - 12:57pm (CDT)

Mistress was not happy with her good boy. Not happy at all.

Good boys do not stare at Ladies' bottoms.

Good boys do not lose their tempers with sweet girls and say things that make them cry.

No, no, Ms. Betty's good boy does not do such things.

Mistress made Terry tell her all these things. Every time he gets a "whipping" he has to recite the reasons he is being punished before it starts.

"What are we going to do now, Terry?"

"Punish me," he whispered very quietly. Fear was thick in his voice. He sounded near tears and his pants were not even down yet. Mistress had promised him a long, hard spanking. And she was about to keep that promise.

"Remove your pants. Get on your bed." There was a pause as Terry prepared himself. Then, "I'm ready, Mistress," he reported, in an even quieter voice.

The spanking began with 50 swats with his wooden paddle, 25 hard and fast on each cheek. He bucked, writhed, moaned, howled as the wood struck his bottom. "Ow, ow, ow, Ma'am, please."

Next came the hairbrush. 50 on each cheek, then another 100, alternating from cheek to cheek. Then 25 on the inside of each thigh. He let loud low groans and hissing cries as the stinging blows landed. The flyswatter came next. 25 one the back of each thigh. When they were done he lay there sobbing softly, pleading with his Mistress not to punish him any more.

But Mistress was just getting started. She ordered the rubber cord.

"Nooooo, not that please not that."

"Oh yes, that."

"You're going to huuuurt meeee!"

"That's right."

50 hard and fast on each cheek. He screamed loudly as each lash fell. He sobbed, begged, pleaded "don't make me, don't make me" but still the whipping continued. First that set and then a 2nd just like it. 200 times that vicious whip end tore into him, leaving burning welts in its wake. Then the whip was turned to the inside of his thighs. 25 burning lashes on each one.

"Oh oh oh," Terry sobbed. "No more, please no more."

But yes, there was still a lot more to come. The rod.

"Noooo," cried Terry. "Not the rod. I don't want the rod."

"I want the rod," said Mistress. "And you are going to get the rod."

"Nooo-ooo." But despite the pleas and protests, the rod came out. 100 hard, fast strokes that made him thrash and scream. "Mistress pleee--eeeaasse." He sobbed loudly. "It hurts, it hurts, please."

Terry needed a little lesson about fighting Mistress about his punishments. Mistress used her thickest switch to teach it to him. 12 on each cheek. 12 on the back of each thigh. 12 more on the inside of each thigh. He sobbed loudly. "No more, no more."

With his attitude readjusted it was time to complete his punishment. 12 strokes with the rod on his privates. He cried, he begged, but the blows came down. Each one prompted a long, high pitched scream. Without so much as a pause for breath Mistress added another 12. This time he did not scream, he simply sobbed as he begged Mistress to stop the punishment.

Mistress did not stop. She used the rod on the inside of his thighs. He screamed, cried, begged. "No, no, nooo." "Plee -ee-ee-ease."

"Almost done," said Mistress. Fresh sobs poured from Terry.

Mistress had a little surprise for her good boy. 12 more strokes on his shaft. Terry sang out a loud chorus of sobbing screams as the rod bit into the most tender part of his flesh. "Oh oh oh, Ma'am, please."

"Amost done."

Mistress used the hairbrush. 12 on each cheek, right on top of each other in the exact same spot. Then a 2nd set in a different spot, again the stinging blows landed right in on top of each other. Then a 3rd set, again all in the exact same spot.

Terry blubbered. He babbled pleas for mercy through his tears. But it still wasn't quite over.

100 more with the rubber cord. Then another 50.

Terry could not speak anymore. He could not even scream. He just sobbed.

Mistress was satisfied. Her good boy had learned his lesson. He would not be losing his temper or staring rudely again any time soon.

Mistress praised her good boy, telling him how proud she was that he took his spanking. She let him rub his bottom, his thighs, his other sore places. She told him it was all over and he was still her good boy.

Terry felt better. Mistress put him to bed, with is hot sore bottom to keep him warm.

Ms. Betty

I'm In Trouble

2008-04-06T15:01:00.000-07:00

Originally Posted on Yahoo 360 on Tuesday May 22, 2007 - 10:42pm (CDT)

Misstress is going to punnish me tonite. She says she"s not mad, but she spent a long long long time scolding me. hmmmmmmp. she has never said some of these things to me. you are going to get spanked long and hard. Ohhhhhhhhhhh! I am in trouble. You are going to be thourghly spanked. Oh god! I"m scared. But I will go to her. Ive let her down, and Ill take my punnishment. It's time to sing for my mistress.

2008-04-06T13:38:00.000-07:00

Yes, from now on this is where you will find Ms. Betty and her little bunny on the web.

Welcome to the blog.

Ms. Betty