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 “February, 2011”

Much better, thank you

As always, the down times pass. I don’t quite comprehend my chemistry and what makes me go into my dark cave sometimes, but I can always see the light outside. For many years, I would stay in the abyss feeling like there was no way out. Now, my depressions are short-lived and open-ended. For this, I am grateful.

Kind and supportive friends help a great deal. Oh, and getting Chrossed today didn’t hurt either. 😀  Thank you very much, Mr. Chross. And congratulations to all his other choices this week.

Two things today indicate that I am over my funk: 1) I actually wanted to get out of bed this morning; and 2) I am once again craving spanking like nobody’s business. Fortunately, New Guy has written to me, informing me that he is much better and I can count on seeing him this coming Monday. It’s been three weeks; how spoiled I’ve become, because I used to go much, MUCH longer than that. But now it feels like forever. I can’t wait to see him.

This afternoon, I find myself fixated on kinky photos all over the place, and not just of the spanking variety. In fact, I’ve been “perving” FetLife photos that have nothing to do with spanking, and this mystifies me. But they definitely have everything to do with dominance.

I have never (at least not consciously) EVER had any sort of abduction fantasies. I suppose the roleplay of being spanked against my will is a roundabout form of abduction, but the whole kidnapping thing, the damsel in distress being threatened by a menacing man? Hasn’t entered my mind.

So why, on FetLife, do I keep returning to these photos, again and again? (from Anton Video):

These pictures make my heart pound. Why?

OK, duhhhh. The guy is freaking gorgeous. But besides that.

It’s the look on his face, in his eyes. His absolute power. Her helplessness. He will have his way, no matter what, and there isn’t a blessed thing she can do about it. Does something in me crave that as well?

Of course, in the videos from whence these pictures came, he doesn’t spank her. I would lose interest as soon as he started defiling her however they portray that sort of thing in bondage/abduction/humiliation videos. But say if he broke in, snuck up on her and had his way with her, spanking-wise? “Don’t you scream,” he’d whisper to her. “It will only hurt for a little while.” Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

I guess this all figures into the “consensual non-sensuality” phenomenon. Intellectually, I know I choose everything that happens to me, regarding spanking play. But the pretense that it’s out of my hands and into his — very powerful, and soooo damned exciting.

OK, Erica. Snap out of it. Go work out.

It’s only February 4, but John is already singing goofy Valentine songs and wishing me “happy Valentine season.” He knows I’m a sucker for all that romantic blather, bless his heart. Stupid commercial holiday that it is, I still love it. Can’t wait to see him tonight either. 🙂

Happy Stupor… er, Super Bowl weekend, y’all.

Reality crash

It was bound to happen, I guess. What goes up must come down.

I was on quite the high for a while, and understandably so. I had an exciting adventure to look forward to and prepare for, so the anticipation was great fun. Then the experience itself, and you all know how fabulous that was. And finally, all the after-fun of writing and sharing about it, the photos, the feedback, the warm fuzzies.

I don’t get out much, folks. I actually lead a very quiet life. So, episodes like this go a long way for me. But when they end, like a little kid after Christmas, I crash. People have referred to “post-party drop” and “sub-drop”; perhaps this is “shoot-drop.” (Even writing that makes me shake my head, because it sounds so silly.)

Nothing tragic happened. I’m not in Egypt, nor am I trapped beneath piles of ice and snow. No one died. It’s just… life. It went back to normal and it felt sucky.

My financial advisor called me and admonished me that I am spending down my retirement money. Tell me something I don’t know! He said I needed to stop taking annual distributions. And live on what? Does he have any clue as to how crappy the freelance market is right now? I am in competition with literally hundreds of other hungry proofreaders, and many of them have additional skills that give them an edge. My job has changed a great deal since I entered the field in 1981. It used to be that you could just be a proofreader, sit at a desk and read copy all day and be damn good at it. Nowadays, the profession is considered devalued because of Spell Check and proofreaders are hired to read plus do a lot of other job functions, and need to be savvy in several computer programs. Go back to school to learn some new things and advance my career? Again, with what money?

So yeah, I’m living on my nest egg for the most part. Me and a gazillion other people, those who even have savings. My health insurance alone is $870 a month. I know I should be thinking of the future, but I need to live now.

Of course, thinking about the future and aging makes me think about my mother, and you all know how @#$%ing depressing that is. I haven’t seen her in months, not since this whole thing with John began. I simply don’t have the energy to deal with it; it’s all been spent worrying about John. Who, incidentally, is back to working long hours again and is tired all the time. And when he’s home, sleep is a fleeting commodity, because he has a new neighbor in the house right behind his, and guess what? They have a barking dog, which is left outside a lot of the time. It’s so close, it sounds like it’s almost in the house with us. I swear, that man cannot catch a break with neighbors.

Then last evening, someone posted an anonymous and horrid comment on an older blog post, where I talked about my upcoming shoot. This person said I had no class, that my “giddy bragging” about all the nice things Paul was doing was “mercenary and money-grubbing in the disguise of gratitude” and that it was disrespectful to Paul, and he/she hoped I enjoyed every moment because it would never happen again.

I’m sure you can imagine the effect that had on me. I was so upset, I copied and forwarded it to Paul himself, asking if I had indeed come off this way and if so, I certainly hadn’t intended it. He was so kind… not only did he write me back immediately with reassurance, but he came on and posted a polite but firm rebuttal to the comment. His compliments to me made me cry.

What is wrong with some people? Do they really not know the power of their words? And why do I allow the erstwhile negative comment to disturb me so much, when I get so many positive ones? I suppose that is human nature, but damn, it’s tiresome.

I’ve been watching Six Feet Under on Netflix for the past few months, since I don’t get HBO and didn’t see it when it aired. What an incredibly brilliant show… but it could be very sad. Last night I watched the finale. Probably not a good idea to watch a show about death when you’re depressed. I was bawling practically through the whole thing. OK, enough of that. Time for some comedy.

Sorry to be so relentlessly bleccchhh. I will get over this; I always do. My sense of humor will return. And to end on an up note, I’m posting yet one more picture of the dogs. 🙂  Impossible to feel sad, looking at this.


New Guy has a bad cold. I kinda had a feeling… usually on Monday morning, he drops me an email to tease me a bit about what’s coming later. This morning, I didn’t hear from him… and then I got email from him in the early afternoon, when he’s usually at work. 😦  Poor guy was sick all weekend and he didn’t want to take a chance of spreading it to me.

Wish I could make him some chicken soup or something. Oh, wait. That’s right… I don’t cook. Never mind. I’ll just have to send my best wishes and recovery thoughts.

So, what’s a girl to do while she waits for her top to feel better? Post more pictures!

I have some goofy ones from the opening of the Nervous-Neglected-Wife-Hires-a-Prostitute video. My character has never done anything like this before, you understand, and Sarah’s character is trying to put her at ease. Before Hubby comes home unexpectedly, she attempts a bit of seduction:

Naturally, when we were shooting these stills, K and Paul were hooting and hollering (I swear, men are so juvenile), so Sarah and I started hamming it up…

And then, of course we both lost it.

Here’s me playing innocent and sweet (after I’ve practically thrown Sarah behind the bed) when Paul surprises me by coming home early…

And Sarah just had to make a little more mischief.

Hummmppph. 🙂

Here’s the frustrated teacher and the bratty schoolgirl. I love Sarah’s expression — “WTF do you want from me??”

Check out Paul’s expression here — (“Do I love my job? Oh HELL yeah!”)

And just for the hell of it, here’s another picture of Max, because he’s so darn cute:

Keep your eye on Sarah’s blog as well… she’s got a whole lot of stuff going on, but I know she’ll be writing about our adventures as well. (Oh, and psssssst… on February 5, somebody’s having a birthday.) 🙂

I’m still not fully back to reality yet. I can’t believe I was there for only four-and-a-half days; we crammed so much into them. I’m waiting for a drop like I get after parties; hasn’t happened so far, so maybe I’ll get lucky and dodge it.

I do miss New Guy, though. Take good care, darlin’. 🙂

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