Erica Scott: Life, Love and Spanking

Ruminations, opinionated observations, darkly humorous blathering and the occasional rant from an outspoken spanko and unapologetic attention wh–, um, hog.

Archive for the month “September, 2010”

Well now…

What have we here?

Yeah, I know, wisenheimers, it’s my butt. I mean, what am I pointing to? What is that faint, strange discoloration on my right cheek? It’s completely foreign to me.

Did I sit in some fresh paint?

Perhaps something bit me in my sleep. No, it doesn’t itch. It most certainly doesn’t itch.

Oh, my god.

Could it be….

That I….



Imagine my shock when I noticed that this had bloomed last night. (Yes, folks, I check out my bottom in the mirror after I’ve played. Go on, tell me you don’t.) Oh, I know, it’s not much. After a hearty spanking/paddling/strapping, a normal person’s behind would look like a war zone. But I’m somewhat of a freak. 🙂

Maybe it’s because I don’t play as much as I used to. Or maybe it was that wooden paddle that he used to finish me off — light wood, but still packed a wallop. But how come I didn’t mark from the Shadow Lane party, where I played multiple times and shattered a cane?

Don’t tell New Guy about this, OK? His head will explode.

At long last…

…finally… better late than never… a birthday spanking!! YEAH!

You know how I’m always bitching about, how I get so many of my CHoS entries from there and it’s a bunch of uber-doms and wankers with dick pics? BUT… then I add that I leave my profile there anyway, because once every few years, I get a nice surprise? Well, guess what. It’s been a few years. I was due.

This gentleman wishes to remain anonymous, so I will refer to him as D (not to be confused with the other D, who was Danny). We met for coffee last week and talked for over 2 1/2 hours. The next day, he sent me birthday greetings and expressed a desire for a play date. The feeling was mutual.

J has not been feeling well, so even though he was sweet as could be for my birthday, he was not able to deliver a birthday spanking. And I was realllllly craving one. I thought my desire to play had waned with my hormones, but it seems to be kicking back into gear lately. So I was more than happy to have a play date this evening.

D showed up right on time, bearing a flower and a birthday balloon. How sweet is that? Oh, and a toy bag. He gave me a minute to put my flower in a vase and then we got right down to business.

First times are often awkward. The top can err on the side of caution and be too light, the chemistry isn’t right, the mood is off, one partner (or both) doesn’t get what he/she wants and doesn’t know how to say so, etc. Not so this time. He was a little light at first, but a healthy dose of my big fat mouth got him to ramp it up. 🙂 I got to sample all the toys in his bag plus his belt, and a couple of my own toys too. I thought, eh, it’s the first time, it’s too hot (it was about 110 here today) — I won’t get into the zone.

I got into the zone. I stopped bratting him. When he asked me if I wanted more, I said please. He finished me with several hard strokes from a light wooden paddle he’d made himself. It wasn’t one of those freaking thuddy slabs I hate, but it packed a sting nonetheless. I was quite done after that.

Oh, before I slipped into the zone, he did give me 53 swats with my leather paddle and made me count them. He also suggested that I say “happy birthday” after each number, but I thought that was pushing it and let him know by replying “up yours.” 🙂

We talked for about an hour afterward, once I recovered my powers of speech. So I’d faded a great deal by the time he’d left, unfortunately, but I still snapped a photo to mark the occasion:

Ah yes… it’s been a blissfully happy birthday…

I think I’m ready for sleep now. Yes, on my stomach.

Spanking on "The Office"

Any fans out there of the NBC-TV show The Office? If you are, and you watched last night’s season premiere, you’ll know what I’m talking about. If you’re not, bear with me.

The Office is a bizarre show to begin with; you either get it or you don’t. Michael Scott (played by the brilliant Steve Carell) is an incompetent idiot of a boss, and we’ve all had one (or more) of those, so we relate, laugh and empathize with the office workers, all of whom are pretty damned quirky themselves (some more than others). In last night’s episode (appropriately called “Nepotism”), Michael had hired his 20-something nephew Luke to be the new office assistant, and the kid was the worst, most obnoxious screw-up in office history, insulting everyone and incapable of getting even the simplest of tasks right (he’s sent out to get ice cream for everyone, and he returns with one small container of soy ice cream and a bag of bagel chips).

Anyway, after much protest from the employees, Michael finally loses it with Luke (who is annoying people with a laser pointer), bends him over a desk and gives him a spanking in front of everyone. You can see the clip here.

OK… I’ve been reading the online reviews of this episode, and the general consensus (with a few exceptions) seems to be that the spanking scene was hilarious. That’s what the average vanilla viewer thought. What did spankos think?

I cringed. I laughed a little, but mostly, I cringed.

OK, I hear the hollers of “Homophobic!” out there. That’s not it. To be fair, most current mainstream spanking scenes have made me cringe rather than feel excited. I didn’t like the spanking scene from Community last year, which was F/F. I freaking hated the two spanking scenes from Californication. And I didn’t even like the Weeds spanking, even though it was M/F and the spanker was yummy. His technique was godawful — he looked like a flailing marionette and he spanked one cheek over and over. But I digress. The fact that this spanking was M/M wasn’t the issue; it was just creepy to me overall.

Why? Because (my opinion here; yours may vary) once again, spanking has been played for ridicule and laughs. It was an embarrassing scene, topped off by the nephew running out of the office crying (!), and the employees re-enacting the scene, mocking it. Some would say it made the character Michael Scott look stupid and inappropriate, which it did. (The damn fool referred to what he’d done as “capital punishment.”) But it also made spanking into something silly and inappropriate too. As a spanko, this bugs me.

Am I taking this too seriously? Or did others have the same reaction? I’m genuinely curious.

There are some spankos out there who rejoice at these scenes, cheering and saying, “Spanking is becoming more mainstream!” No, it isn’t. It’s used as a tool to get laughs or to be titillating (“ooooh, look, how naughty“). If you’re uncomfortable with something, what’s a good way to defuse that discomfort? Make fun of it. That’s what I feel is happening here.

If this is the best they can do, then personally, I would prefer it if the mainstream would leave us the hell alone and leave the spanking scenes to the experts.

What do you guys think?

On another note, thanks to everyone — here, on FetLife, on Facebook, via email and elsewhere — who sent me birthday wishes this week. I was really floored by all the greetings and I wish I could have bottled that blissful feeling and saved it for a sad day. All kidding, sassing and clowning aside, my heart was very full indeed.

Have a great weekend, y’all.

Birthday treats! :-)

Hey y’all — do I have a sweetheart of a guy, or what? Just look at my beautiful birthday flowers!

He sent them a day early, so they’d be a real surprise. I love that man.

Wishes have been coming in — on FetLife, via email and even on good old vanilla Facebook. No spankings yet, and none planned for tomorrow, but in my usual fashion, I’m going to milk this birthday for at least a week. You know, if I must have these freaking age-markers, I’m going to enjoy them, dammit. So we’ll see what the coming days may bring.

My dear friend Dave Wolfe, talented creator of WolfieToons, has had a tradition for several years in which he draws an original birthday cartoon for me. This year, he is swamped with work and didn’t get a chance, but he made sure to send me something cute nonetheless:

(I’m a huge Marxophile, in case you guys didn’t know!) Thanks, Dave!

And just so you can see his wonderful work, here’s my birthday toon from last year:

It’s now 1:00 a.m. and I should be tired, but I’m too wound up. How dumb is that — what am I, five? Am I getting a pony? Tomorrow is Wednesday. Period. It’s the middle of the week. I’m going to the gym. But I can’t help it… there’s that goofy leftover giddiness from long ago, when birthdays were as exciting as any holiday, with the promise of treats and surprises. Cake calories didn’t count. I couldn’t wait for the mail to come, because mixed in with all the boring grownup stuff (read: bills), there were cards for me. My birthday was my day. Sure, a bazillion other people claimed the same date, but it didn’t matter — I didn’t know them. For that one date on the calendar… I was special. The rest of the year I felt invisible, but September 22 was mine.

For all those who make me feel special every day… thank you. 🙂 For now, I’m going to make popcorn, eat peanut-butter Oreos and watch Dark Shadows until I get sleepy. Yes, at this hour. I get to — it’s my birthday!

Monday morning ramblings

Not sure where I’m going with this, so just ride along with me if you will. I’m a bit scattered and my thoughts are going off in various directions.

As is often the case, I remain baffled by some of the ad replies I’m receiving. Not the CHoS types; I know what to do with those. I mean the ones that mystify in other ways. The ones that clearly have nothing to do with my ad(s). Or perhaps the ones that show interest, then back off when I show interest in return.

Recently I was contacted on FetLife by a local gentleman, a switch, who was quite articulate and interesting. He and I differed greatly on our ideas of bottoming and I hesitated to give any of my thoughts for fear of offending him, but he assured me that he would not take offense. We exchanged a few messages; he asked me if I might be a submissive, just not a masochist, and I said I do not identify with being a submissive because I’m too feisty. I can submit, but it has to be earned, and I liked tops who enjoyed and could work off a bit of witty provocation.

He wrote back, said I was a SAM, and any bottom who provoked him would end up in the corner with soap in her mouth, watching him spank someone else. Ouch. I wrote once again, saying I hadn’t intended to sound arrogant; that I don’t endeavor to seriously annoy anyone, I just like to be a bit playful, and this stuff is supposed to be fun, right? My message was earnest and completely non-snotty.

Never heard back.

Someone on “winked” at me, so I thanked him for it. He wrote me a note, saying he’d like to talk, that he found me intriguing.

Intriguing. I hear that a lot. I’m not sure why, though.

Intrigue: to arouse the curiosity or interest of by unusual, new, or otherwise fascinating or compelling qualities; appeal strongly to; captivate

Am I really that unusual? That much of a curiosity? Why?

Anyway, I wrote back, asking what he found intriguing and would he like to tell me about himself.

Never heard back.

Same day, I got a message from a man with “daddy” in his screen name. Said he found me “interesting” and “complicated” and would love to talk. I looked up his profile; in it, he stressed how any partner of his must be into daddy/daughter play. I clearly state in my profile that I’m not looking for daddies or masters.

I replied, “Interesting, maybe. Complicated, definitely. And definitely not into anything to do with the daddy/daughter dynamic — sorry.”

Wait, there’s more. One more message, this time from a young couple, saying they read my profile and preferences and they’d love to play. Looked them up; they’re swingers, she’s bisexual, they’re seeking sex partners. Ummm… they read my profile? I don’t think so. Why do they even bother?

I’m just blowing off a little here; I know there aren’t any answers. I simply wonder about people sometimes, what motivates them, what they’re thinking. And if there’s something I’m doing or saying that draws them.

However, in the midst of all this, I did get one reply that might actually have some promise. Don’t want to say too much right now, as I’m afraid I’ll jinx it. We’ll see.

It was a strange weekend. J was very sweet, took me to a special dinner, but I could tell he was off his game. I think I might have told you that he finally, finally had a physical a couple of months ago, after my getting on his case about it. He asked the doc about why he’s so exhausted all the time. Well, duh… he barely sleeps. Not only because he works ungodly hours, but he has arthritis in his back and he can’t lie comfortably for more than a couple of hours, so he almost never gets any decent rest. She told him to start taking Tylenol, arthritis strength, at night before bed, so he could sleep better, because sleep deprivation is one of the reasons he gets sick all the time.

Did he buy any Tylenol? Nooooooo. The man is completely averse to taking any kind of medication. He has to be practically dying before he’ll take an aspirin.

So this weekend, I could tell he was in pain. I’d catch him wincing when he didn’t know I was looking. He couldn’t sit still. He thrashed around in his sleep. And by Sunday morning, he could barely move. That did it. I said, we’re going to Rite-Aid before we go to brunch and buying you some Tylenol, and you’re taking it. He didn’t argue. When J doesn’t argue, you know he’s in dire straits.

As soon as we arrived at the restaurant, I opened the bottle and took out two tablets, pushed them over to him. He hedged. “Don’t I have to eat first?” “No… not with Tylenol.” “Why do I have to take two?” “Two is the dose.” “What if just one works?” “I don’t care. Take both of them.” “But…” “TAKE THEM.”

He did. And as brunch progressed, I could see the transition… the glazed, pinched look left his face, his eyes took on their usual sparkle, he ate all his food and was back to his silly, jokey self. He sheepishly admitted that at the moment, his back was pain-free. Why did things have to get so far before he’d take those damn pills? What’s up with that? Is it a guy thing, or a J thing?

He teased me, said, “You’re going to make my life hell now, aren’t you, nagging me to take Tylenol?” Damn straight, honey.

Is this what getting older looks like? Ugh, ugh, ugh. Yeah, the age thing is on my mind this week, for obvious reasons.

J was so very kind — he gave me two books. I opened one of them, and found a sum of cash, crisp new bills, tucked into the end flap. He knew I’ve been worried about money… I started to cry. He also tucked several rolls of quarters into my suitcase, knowing I use them for laundry. What am I going to do with this man? This stubborn, wonderful, thoughtful, loving and maddening man? He makes my heart explode, truly he does.

Told you I was rambling and all over the place. I think I need to go work out.

Correspondence Hall of Shame, 9/17

Before I get to this week’s festivities, I’m happy to announce that Richard’s postings of our interview from the SL party got Chross’d this week! 🙂

The first two entries have the dubious distinction of correct spelling (and how sad is that, that good spelling should be an anomaly):

I want to be straddled by you, which would you prefer my face or my groin?

Uhhhh… that’s kinda like asking me if I’d prefer cottage cheese or oatmeal, dude. Both make me sick.

This was posted to a bottom shot:

Nice piece of pudding, I’d like to dig in with my tongue!

Just remember, it isn’t figgy pudding. 😉

wats up how u doin sexxy u look verry good 4 ur age

You know, if I’d received this after the RW interview came out, I’d swear it was a joke. But no, it came in about two weeks ago. I looked at the guy’s profile… nope, it wasn’t a joke. Get lost, junior.

very nice ass, I wish I ws there to recive a spanking as well, as I served you orally

Hey, I already got oral servicing this week and I have a massive toothache. No, thank you.

yes baby oil all over u…….slipping and sliding all over u//////then what next

Then u slip and slide right out the door, and don’t let it hit you. Byeeeee.

One last note: Regarding Wednesday’s entry about figging, I received a private message from a gentleman who described in detail how he spanks and figs both his wife and his 20-something stepdaughter regularly. Then he suggested perhaps I should consider figging for when I’m “extra naughty.”

OK… first of all, TMI, hon. In fact, WTDMI (Way Too Damn Much Information). And second, I guess I didn’t make my stance on figging crystal clear. But maybe you’re right, perhaps I should consider it. When shall I consider it? Hmmm… how about never? Does never work for ya? Please lose my email address.

J and I are going to be toothache buddies this weekend — he’s having crown work done today, poor baby. Oh well, at least we can commiserate. On a cheerier note, tomorrow (9/18) is Craig’s birthday. Yes, I got the date right this time. Can’t believe how I jumped the gun and announced it on FetLife on the 16th. Anyway, happy birthday, Craig. Hope it’s a beautiful day and a spectacular year for you. 🙂

Have a great weekend, y’all.

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