Welcome to my blog! 🙂
Yesterday on Twitter, a fellow spanko posed this question: “How many spankos does it take to change a light bulb?” A handful of people participated, but I wanted to put it out there to the spankosphere. So, with her blessing, I’m asking my readers, and encouraging your feedback. Use your creative muse and give me your funniest answer. And please do post it here in the comments so everyone can see!
Here was mine, in a slightly longer version since I don’t have Twitter character limits.
How many spankos does it take to change a light bulb? Three.
Top: The light burned out. Go change the bulb.
Bottom: No. You do it.
Top: I asked you to do it.
Bottom: You didn’t ask, and no, I don’t feel like it.
Top: Young lady…
Bottom: Change it yourself!
Third spanko: Oh, for fuck’s sake, you two, it’s dark! (changes light bulb)
Your turn! Have a great weekend, y’all. ♥
We all have our bodily reactions to excess stress, yes? Especially these days. Some people get migraines. Some people get muscle spasms.
I get hives. Combination of stress and heat, so I get them in summer.
Not badly, and not a whole lot of them. Just random itchy blotches. They don’t blister, they don’t scab, they just rise, get progressively redder, and then after a couple of days of Calamine lotion and Zyrtec, they recede. But while they are here, they itch like a son of a bitch.
Most often, I get them on my lower legs.
Guess where I got a couple of them this time?
So unfair! This is not the kind of discomfort I want on my butt, goddammit!
I guess there are worse kinds of butt itch. Perhaps I should count my blessings. *grumble*
Yup. It’s happening. For the first time in two-and-a-half years.
Back story: Well, you know. Covid. That stupid thing that was “just supposed to disappear.” *rolling eyes* Instead, it became a pandemic that killed over a million people and it’s still raging with its constant new variants and absolutely zero predictability. Of course, people are so over all this and it seems most of the population has decided to go on with life. John and I, of course, haven’t.
At first, regarding the big national parties, the decision was made for us, since they were all canceled that first year. But then they came back. And people went back. We didn’t.
I wanted to go to the past two Vegas parties. Both times, John said, “It’s not safe. It’s not responsible. Let’s sit this one out and see where things are in six months.” So. Six months passed, and then here we were, with the next party right around the corner. And John said the exact same thing, again.
And I lost it. Truly. Years of frustration and isolation and fear and resentment over this situation burst out of me in torrents of tears.
“You said the same thing the last two parties,” I said. “And life just keeps passing and passing, while we don’t do anything. I want to live. I want to see our friends. I want to play. You keep waiting for us to get control over Covid. We’re never going to get control over this fucking thing, not in our lifetimes. We’re stuck with it. There will never be a perfect time.”
Fact: We are quadruple vaxxed. Fact: Everyone I know who has gotten it recently ended up with a mild to moderate case. BUT… Also fact: These parties are super-spreaders. The last one in Texas, with over 500 people, had countless cases afterward. Fact: We went to a wedding in June. It was outdoors and only had about fifty people, But twenty of them got Covid. And fact: John still is high risk.
Truly a no-win situation. If we didn’t go to this yet again, I’d be depressed AF, inconsolable. And if we went, I’d be worried about John every damn second.
There was a third option, though. One I’d never considered before, because I really didn’t want to. I have been going to these big parties since 1997. Aside from the Covid years, and then that unfortunate year where I dropped out of the scene because of a certain narcissist, I have not missed any of them. And John has been with me every single time.
Going without him will feel like leaving one of my limbs at home. But I’m doing it.
We talked it out. I’m not scared of getting Covid at this point. And if I get it, I will stay away from John. He will never be affected. I’m also encouraged by the fact that neither one of us got it at the aforementioned wedding. John said, “I’ll be worried about you if you go, but I’ll feel bad if you don’t.” So… we chose the lesser of two uncomfortable situations. Try it once, he said. See how it goes.
This party is not what we used to attend. When we went, it was Shadow Lane, then Shadow Lodge, and it was at the Suncoast Hotel. Well… Shadow Lane/Lodge imploded last year, and the owner of it stepped down. A new crew stepped in at the last minute to take over and salvage the party as best they could. Now, they are the permanent party owners, they have found a brand-new venue (the Suncoast kicked us out, for reasons unknown to me, although I did hear rumors about an obstreperous guest who got the police called), and it has been renamed Oasis. So, although it’s a familiar experience, it will also be completely new, in every way — including the fact that I’ll be solo. *gulp*
Even though it’s a month away, the decision needed to be made. Registration, ticket purchase and hotel booking all needed to be done in advance. No tickets at the door. And the group hotel discount would expire soon. Plus, I had to book a flight. John and I usually drive, but I don’t feel like driving four-five hours two ways by myself.
So, Sunday evening, I registered, bought a ticket, and booked my suite. Then Monday, with the help of a very airline-savvy friend, I booked a flight. All done. Fully committed. No turning back.
Then I proceeded to panic. All the negatives rushed into my head. All the friends who are not going. All this money I’m spending (I told John this is my indulgence, and he’s not paying for any of it). All the unknowns and what-ifs. Who will I know? Who will I hang out with? Play with? Eat with? And of course, the ever-present “Am I too damned old to be going to one of these things anymore?”
Ugh. I cried a lot. Again. Then worked out and calmed down, and thought it out.
Yeah, I’m really nervous about this. But I am also excited. I have that sense of adventure thrumming in my veins again, that anticipation. So much potential fun. So much potential play. So many possibilities. Versus playing it safe, sitting at home, reading all about it, and wanting to open a vital artery.
I will do all the safe things. I’m bringing masks, hand sanitizer, wipes. I will wear a mask at the airport, on the plane, in the Uber. I will be careful. This is a vax-only party, and there will be fewer people than the Texas party. The new venue looks gorgeous. So dammit, I’m. Doing. This.
Bring it, tops. I am sooooo ready for you!
This one is geared toward female bottoms, as you could probably tell by the title. But tops are welcome to chime in about their preferences as well. I know I’ve talked about this subject before, but it’s been a long time and I think it’s worth revisiting.
Thanks to Hermione’s Spanko Brunch post, I joined Spanking Needs last week. So far, I am liking it. It seems to be well managed, reasonably simple to navigate, and people have been nice and welcoming so far. I’ve gotten several messages, and all have been respectful.
One local man and I exchanged several messages, and were getting very close to making a coffee date. Then he said that he’d noticed, in all the video snippets he’d watched of me, that I always kept my upper half clothed. Was there a reason for that? Modesty?
This is true. With a single exception, I have not bared my breasts in any of my videos, not in eighteen years. Oftentimes I was down to lingerie, but I always kept the bra on.
I wrote back and told him my personal opinion — that unless the video is depicting husband/wife or lovers, full nudity seems gratuitous to me. After all, he’s not spanking my boobs. The focus is on my butt.
He then said that he has spanked nipples (shudder), but admitted that’s more BDSM-oriented. Then he confessed that he enjoys watching a woman’s breasts sway and bounce while she’s over his knee. Said he would never force that on anyone, though. (But yeah, clearly, that’s what he’d prefer, right? Why even bring it up otherwise?)
I’m not a prude. I’m not ashamed of my body. There is nothing wrong with my breasts. They’re small. They’re still perky. I have posted naked pictures of myself on FetLife. Although that one time I posted what I thought was a sultry bare-breasted picture, some idiot’s comment was “You should smile.” Really? That’s what you’re focusing on?? I took that one down.
I have played unclothed with close play partners. My former top of 4+ years used to strip me naked outdoors in broad daylight, for heaven’s sake. (And I have the pictures to prove it.) Another one tied me down naked to my coffee table. But I knew these men very well. However, casual play with friends? Party scenes? With the exception of the occasional full-body flogging, I keep my top on.
I suppose stripping a female bottom fully nude adds to the embarrassment/vulnerability, and people like that, or love to hate it. But I just don’t care for it.
I am curious — granted, I know a lot of my readers are married and play with their husbands only, so of course y’all play naked. But for those who play more casually, who engage in party play, play with groups of friends, etc., how do you feel about full nudity while being spanked? Do you feel like that fits well into your scene dynamics/fantasies? Or does it make you feel uncomfortable?
And a side note: No matter what my state of undress is, I think it’s hottest when the top remains fully clothed. Any thoughts on that?
Back to the man on SN for a moment. I replied that he might be disappointed with me, if this is what he enjoyed doing, so perhaps we should reconsidering meeting. Much to my surprise, he wrote back, saying yes, he enjoys it, but it’s hardly a deal-breaker. That he’s a spanko, and enjoys spanking woman of all types and in all stages of dress. And that having coffee with me would be an honor.
Well. That’s nice. ♥ We’ll see what happens next week.
So, let me hear from you: Boobs or no boobs? Have a great weekend, y’all.
(Disclaimer: I do not intend this post to offend anyone, or make them feel defensive. This is simply a subject I’m passionate about, I want to speak my truths about it, and I would like others to as well. I hope you will share yours with me.)
You all know I’m a big fan of Jillian Keenan’s. I subscribe to her Patreon channel and I enjoy her videos. Her most recent two have been about “Spanko Self-Awareness” — the questions we all need to ask ourselves to determine what works for us in TTWD… and what doesn’t. In Part 2, released last weekend, she delves into some deeper questions. One of which is “Do I like a thing because I like it? Or because I like the attention it brings me?”
She does not posit this with any sort of judgment either way; it’s simply a request for self-honesty. The more we know about ourselves in this scene, the better choices we can make, and the more we can be our truest selves.
As this question is explored, she goes into a specific situation: namely, the pressure women in our scene receive to switch/top. She brings up the unfortunate fact of how women, as we age, are often devalued in society (and in the scene too… unless we learn how to top). Topping, for a woman in the spanking scene, may be a way to gain back some of that value. And value = positive attention. Let’s be honest — we all like attention, at least to some degree. (I’m not saying y’all are attention whores like me, but come on, it’s nice to be appreciated, no?)
This is a direct quote from Jillian, and I listened three times and wrote it down to make sure I got it right:
“No one is more popular at a spanking party,
or in more demand as a play partner,
than a woman who is holding a hairbrush.”
I don’t disagree with this at all. I think she’s right. But you know what? It pisses me off! I would happily accept “as popular as,” or “as much in demand as.” But more? Why? It doesn’t seem fair. And it’s especially not fair to those of us who have absolutely no desire to top.
Which brings me to my controversial question, and what might put some people’s noses out of joint. For all the spanko women out there, whether professionals in the industry or not, who transitioned into topping: I would love to know the percentage of those who did so because they genuinely wanted to, because they enjoy topping — and the percentage of those who started topping because they felt pressured to do so. Because they thought their continued acceptance in the scene hinged upon that.
Again, no judgment. Just curious. And yes, I know professionals can’t really answer me here. It would be detrimental for business if a spanking model were to publicly admit here, “Yeah, topping isn’t really my thing, but I had to learn to do it anyway because money.” A female bottom’s shelf life in the film/session industry is limited. A female top, on the other hand, can keep going well into her fifties and sixties. There may be exceptions, but generally, past a particular age, a woman needs to switch, or go behind the camera and produce, in order to remain competitive. The most successful women producers I know of do both.
I am a rebel in this scene. I have staunchly resisted two things that seem almost expected of women: 1. Switching, and 2. Playing with other women. I simply don’t want to, never did, and I never will.
But wait, Erica… what about that one time…? Yeah, yeah, yeah. Anyone who’s been with me over the years knows damn well that I topped a young girl on video once, back in 2004. And yes, I played a mom. It was a very domestic scene, nothing sensual about it, her bent over the kitchen table and me with a wooden spoon. Why did I do it? Because I really, really, really wanted to be in this film — it was Spanking Epics’ premiere film, and I wanted in on it. It was a brief scene. And my reward would be getting to bottom later in the film.
But… I hated doing it. Hated every damn minute of it. I still can’t watch that scene. I sucked at it. And oh, the crap I took for it. “My three-year-old could spank harder than that!” Oh, and my favorites, along these lines: “Oh boy, you’re playing a mom already? It’s all downhill from here!” Screw that. Yeah, I played a frumpy widowed mother in 1912, with unflattering hair and clothes. But I also got to do this:
Yup, that was my old mom butt. Put that in your pipe and shove it. (Yeah, I know that’s not how the expression goes. I don’t care.)
However, aside from that, I somehow managed to carve out eighteen years of bottoming on video, even though I was well past the age most women do it. When I first started out, I took a look at some of the producer sites, and when it came to applying to appear on film as a bottom, I saw the same thing many times: “Women 18-35.” Well, humph. I was definitely past that. Fortunately, Shadow Lane didn’t have this limitation, and they happily cast me as a bottom in my first video (and three more after that). But at the time, that was a rarity. In later years, I think production companies let go of some of this ageism and several others cast me. However…
I am not immune to ageing. My body, face and skin have seen some changes. But I do have a few things going for me. I have a youthful air about me. I’ve shunned the sun for years. I keep myself fit with diet and regular exercise. And I made no secret of the fact that I had a face lift. So, I believe the average viewer, not knowing me personally (and not looking too closely), thinks I’m younger than I really am. And I believe that was, at least in part, one of the primary reasons I lasted as long as I did.
Don’t believe that? True story, and I am removing all identifiers. A few years ago, a production company received a request for a custom shoot, and the client specifically requested me in the bottom role. The producer told their client, “I’ll ask Erica, but I’m not sure if she’s still shooting. If she isn’t, would someone else work? How about [another model]?” The client’s answer?
“No, I don’t want [her]. She’s too old.”
As it happened, there was a fourteen-year span between me and the suggested alternative. And no, I don’t mean she was older. I mean she was fourteen years younger. Ouch.
So yeah, ageism is alive and well in the scene, just like in overall society. But forget about the professional world for now. What about average female bottoms, going to parties, enjoying bottoming to different play partners, but finding that as they get older, their play time somehow seems to dwindle? What to do? Oh, and one more point of irritation. There is an attitude that subtly worms its way through not just the spanking scene, but all types of kink — that being, if you are in a scene for X amount of time, you are somehow expected to branch out, to get into new things, to experiment further, to… I hate this fucking word… evolve. In other words, if you don’t grow in your scene, you’re stagnant and un-evolved? What if you just happen to like one thing, like one thing a lot, and are perfectly content sticking with that and have no desire to do other stuff? Why is that somehow considered “less than”?
I’m digressing. My point is, between the ageism and the pressure to evolve, female bottoms have a challenge being true to their inner desires. That at some point, even if it’s not a desire that comes naturally and organically to them, they feel pressure to top.
So, ladies… who out there would be willing to admit that, while you might enjoy topping on occasion, it’s not really and truly your thing, that your true love is bottoming? Who would confess that they initially tried it not out of desire, but out of feeling pressure? Again, this is not a judgment thing. I’m trying to establish just how prevalent and pervasive the pressure to switch/top is. Also, I’d like to know, if you started out doing it out of pressure, did you grow to like it? Or did you simply accept that it’s now something you do, and you keep doing it because 1. it gives your friends pleasure, and 2. you feel like you’re more in demand/more highly valued in the scene because of it?
And of course, if you top because you love it, because you always wanted to, then more power to you! Enjoy your ageless popularity. Hell, I’ve often said I wished I were more versatile and liked to do more things in our scene. More fun to be had, right? But I’m simply not. I had to make my choices. And I wonder about the choices of others sometimes. Peer pressure — and the pressure to maintain one’s perceived value, even if that’s just in our own head — is powerful AF.
This is both hugely flattering and embarrassing.
Recently, our incomparable Bonnie wanted to make her blog list a little easier to navigate for new readers, so she asked everyone to nominate their favorites. Then she compiled a list of 40 MBS Readers’ Choice blogs, which she highlighted in orange on the roll so that newbies could find the well-read blogs more easily. Yours truly apparently was nominated several times and made the cut.
So yes, I am flattered and pleased. Why embarrassed? Because I’ve barely written a damn thing all year and I haven’t even touched this site for over a month. (sigh) What can I say? Life has interfered. I have been busy with work, and with other chores such as turning my clocks back. No, not an hour (it’s not Fall Back time yet) — I mean to 1950. Don’t worry. That’s all I’m going to say on the subject, aside from the fact that it has broken my heart and made me sick.
There hasn’t been much to write about; Covid still continues to put a damper on things, although we are fully vaccinated. We still practice a lot of caution, since John is vulnerable. And people who think it’s over are sadly mistaken. But I am hoping that as boosters improve and the strength of the disease weakens a bit, we can begin to live again. I would say at this point I am not scared of getting Covid; it’s like getting a flu. But I am terrified of the mysterious and unpredictable long Covid. A friend of ours has had that for a couple of years now, and her life is essentially ruined. She is only in her early 30s.
However, despite all this, we managed to have a joyous time a couple of weeks ago, when we attended the wedding event of dear friends. It was a three-day event at a resort/hotel (rehearsal dinner Friday, ceremony/dinner/dancing Saturday, buffet brunch Sunday); we came for two days of it. It was held outside, on a picture perfect sunny day, and people came from all over to attend. I would say about fifty people were there, and for those who couldn’t make it, the wedding was streamed live on Zoom.
It was so much fun to get dressed up, to see old friends and meet new ones, and GET HUGS! Lots and lots and lots of hugs! I quite literally had friends running across the lawn to fling themselves into my open arms. Damn, I’d missed that! The ceremony was beautiful, the bride was truly radiant, and hey, I even got to play a little — with the groom, no less! 🙂 No, I’m not going to provide details on who. IFKYK.
They had a photo area for all of us, so John and I took this goofy picture. I was holding up a sign that read “HIS,” but of course, Klutzy McDork held it up wrong.
After over two years of practically being hermits, this felt good. And of course, it made me want to attend the Vegas party over Labor Day. Sadly, the party scene is still very much divided and angry these days. Someone was called out and banned… and now there is backlash against the person who did the calling out, which is damned unfair and wrong. I know all parties involved… I know what and who I believe. But what I think doesn’t matter a damn in the overall scheme of things.
So… do we go? Do we not go? Sooo many people I want to see. But again, the Covid thing, the crowded rooms, the close contact. Ugh. I hate this. But I have a couple of months to decide.
For everyone who voted for this blog on Bonnie’s survey, thank you. Why do you read this? And what would you like to see? Obviously, things have changed — I can no longer write about shoot adventures and so forth. But I still have a lot to say. I just have to determine who wants to hear it.
Have a great weekend, y’all. Be safe. ♥