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 “April, 2011”

Thou shalt not laugh at thy top

Or else thine ass is grass.

On FetLife, one of New Guy’s friends was teasing him on his wall, scolding him for not saying “thank you” to a compliment, calling him “young man,” etc. And he was all “Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am.” So of course, I had to give him a bunch of noise about that, didn’t I?

Seems he took umbrage at that, saying I was spying on his page and making fun of him. I protested that he follows MY activity, and he said, “It’s OK when I do it.” Top logic at its finest, folks. Anyway, he deemed that I was lacking in manners, laughing at him. But I couldn’t seem to help myself. Even after a very long OTK session.

He did take a break in the middle of it — but only to send me to the kitchen to fetch the wooden spoon. After I got up, he said, “Those panties stay down and that dress stays up.” I yanked the dress back down anyway. “Pull that dress back up or it comes off,” he threatened. I pulled it back up.

I’d forgotten how much that @#$%ing spoon hurts. Makes those lovely ovals, too. But that was just the beginning.

Down on all fours on the carpet I went, for his belt and the strap. Had to switch things up, he said. Couldn’t have my readers getting bored, could we? Nahhhhh…

I still couldn’t stop giggling though. So he moved me to the ottoman, where he could really lay into me. I thought for a brief moment I was finally settling down… then “We Are The Champions” came on. When Freddie Mercury sang, “No time for losers…” I started cracking up again. But I didn’t want to tell NG what I was laughing at.

He managed to coax it out of me, however. So I told him that when I heard that “no time for losers” line, I’d wanted to say, “Yeah! So go home!”

“Oh, I’m a loser now, huh?” The strap suddenly got much faster and much heavier. OK, I asked for that.

“I think you need 15 more good ones with this — you’re going to count them and say after each one: ‘You are a winner!’ ” (groan)

We managed to get up to eight when he started critiquing the enthusiasm of my delivery. Wanted more sincerity, he said. Arrggh. He liked my tone after the count of nine, but after ten, he started up with that “Nope, I’m not hearing the enthusiasm” sh*t again.

So after stroke eleven, I hollered with all the energy I could muster: “Eleven — you are a wiener!!”

He started over at number one. OK, I guess I asked for that too.

But finally, he prevailed, I stopped my giggling and mouthing off. “It really isn’t wise to say stuff like that when someone is spanking you,” he reminded me.

Guess I’m not all that wise. A wise-ass, maybe.

Hey! Aren’t my VS Cheekies cute?

Of course, they didn’t stay up long.

Geeeez… why do I bother wearing nice panties for this guy…

Think I was done laughing? Think again. Just before he left, he accidentally knocked a glass of water over, and I went to get some paper towels. I mopped up until a wad of them was saturated… and as he bent over his toy bag putting things away, I stuffed the wet towels down the back of his shirt. 😀

It was cute to watch him dance. He made me dance after that, but it was so worth it.

He won’t be able to make it next Monday, unfortunately. Already I feel a little melancholy, thinking how I’ll miss him next week. Damn, am I spoiled, or what?

Thanks for another great night, sweetie… and for being such a good sport. You know I think you’re the bestest. ♥

Insert clever title here

I hate it when I can’t come up with an interesting title. I’ve been sitting here staring at a blank blog for several minutes, so screw it. Sometimes the Muse of Clever Openings goes into hibernation.

Hope everyone had a nice weekend. It was hot here, so John and I escaped to the mall yesterday afternoon/evening. He wanted to go to Nordstrom to buy some new dress shirts, and I had a special treat for him — I wanted to go to Victoria’s Secret.

I swear, we can’t walk by a VS or a Frederick’s without John trying to physically drag me in there. Personally, I think VS is kind of a ripoff. They’re quite expensive, plus I found out long ago what their “secret” is: Their stuff looks fantastic on the models and mannequins, but on us mere mortal women past 20? Notsomuch. I have yet to try on a bra there that flatters me. However, they do have a very cute line of panties called Cheekies, and I wanted to take advantage of their “3 for $30” sale. Figured I could use something new and cute for my book cover photo. Besides, one of my favorite pairs from Frederick’s finally fell apart last week. That’s the trouble with lacy garments; they have a tendency to do that.

John, of course, wanted to look at everything in every corner of the store, the perv. “Sweetie, how about these? How about those?” I, however, didn’t feel like spending too much time in there; that store makes me feel ancient and all too aware that I’m wearing mismatched underwear under my clothes. So I selected three pairs of Cheekies, paid for them and we were out of there. I did model one of them for him today. It was the least I could do, after all.

I was sad to read this weekend that Arthur Marx died. Who the hell was Arthur Marx, some of you may be saying. Besides being a prolific author, playwright and a TV writer (and one of my father’s peers), he was Groucho Marx’s son. (And if any of you say “who was Groucho Marx,” I’m going to shoot myself.) Most of you know I have loved the Marx Brothers since I was a kid. They’re all long gone, and now their kids are passing on as well.

I felt a sort of “six degrees” connection with Arthur Marx — never met him, but my father knew him. Dad had two of Marx’s books, both autographed, and tonight I dug them out of my bookshelves. For one of them, Marx interviewed my father, because the book was about the partnership of Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, and Dad wrote for them. The inscription reads: “To [Dad’s name], without whom this really couldn’t have been written.” Nice! In the other book, Son of Groucho, Marx wrote, “To [Dad’s name], a man who speaks the truth in a world of liars.” I’m not sure what he meant by that, but I like the sound of it. Dad was outspoken, no question about that. But he didn’t BS you.

I saw the obituary in the paper as I sat having lunch with John and his mother, and I exclaimed, “Oh, no…” So of course, I had to explain myself. John’s mom said, “Wow… your dad knew so many famous people. That kind of makes you famous by association!”

(rolling eyes) Uh…no, it doesn’t. The only thing I’m famous for has nothing to do with vintage comedy. 🙂 And I know I’ve requested this before, but it bears repeating: When I start saying inane things like that, please, shoot me very quickly and mercifully in the head.

Tomorrow will be several degrees cooler, which makes me happy. Oh, and it’s Monday. You know how much I love Mondays.

Happy Tax Day

Or is that an oxymoron? Perhaps I should say Happy Chross Day. Can I briefly mention the amazing power that man has in the blogosphere? Last week, I didn’t make the cut, and I swear my page hits went into the dumpster. (sniff) By midweek this week, even with all my blathering about books and my Monday scene, they were pitiful next to what I usually get. Did anyone else’s views take a nosedive too — was it just one of those weeks? Whatever. I am being obsessive about the numbers game. Can’t help it, though, when I hear something like what Mr. Smith the author told me last week. We were talking about popular sites and he told me of a blog/website of a popular femdom, I don’t remember her name. On average, she gets 20,000 hits a day. Twenty-thousand???? Sometimes I feel like I am batting for the wrong team!

Perhaps for another blog post sometime, I should open the floor about the mystique and worship of female dominants. I saw it when I worked at Passive Arts, I see it on the various kink sites, I have seen it through John. It’s fascinating to me.

I posted a similar request to the one I did on Model Mayhem, only this time on FetLife in a Models and Photographers forum. What a difference! I’ve received several nice offers and now I have to decide which way to go. I suppose I could have more than one photographer take some shots, right? Choices are good things. Once I get this photo, then I can start addressing the formatting and finalizing. Exciting stuff!

And in three weeks, I shoot for Spanking Court. I have no idea what my “crime” is going to be… any ideas that haven’t been done to death? I know I’m doing two sessions; they offered me a choice of 1-3 sessions in one shooting day, and I decided to go for the middle option. I can’t wait!

All this fun activity will help take my mind off the Boardwalk Badness Weekend in Atlantic City, end of this month. So many of my friends are going and it sounds like it’s going to be quite the event. (sigh) Because the hotel is small, the body count is limited and they filled up months ago, but we wouldn’t have been able to make it anyway. John ends up paying for nearly everything on these weekends, since he is in so much better financial shape than I. And since spanking parties are really my thing more than his, I feel guilty about asking him to do more than one a year, because they are quite expensive. Perhaps next year, we’ll consider doing both BBW and SL. After all, we did SL and Florida Moonshine last year. Meanwhile, I have friends who have promised to give me all the details.

Back to the blog hits thing for a moment — have I gotten complacent? Has my blog become too redundant? Anything you guys would enjoy seeing discussed here? Sometimes I feel like I’ve covered every topic and aspect of the scene at least twice. There are so damn many of us out there, chattering away on these blogs. What keeps people coming back, when the topics cycle and recycle all over the blogosphere?

Yes, I’m all over the place. Focus, Erica. There is a stack of mail to attend to, a birthday card that must be addressed and mailed (yes, some of us still send those), errands to run, chores to do, must get ready to head for John’s. Have a great weekend, y’all.

Continuing adventures in pre-publishing

It’s been less than a week since I made the announcement about having written a book. I asked for feedback, and wow… people have been amazing! Thank you to everyone who has sent encouraging words and suggestions.

There are many decisions to make, many options to consider. Used to be that when you wrote a book, you got an agent (quite the process in itself, from what I’ve heard) and they submitted it to publishers. Now, with the burgeoning self-publishing industry, all that has changed.

In the past few days, I’ve had communications with three published authors: fetish erotica writer Annabel Joseph; John Smith, author of Kink And The City: An Englishman In New York; and of course, our own Devlin O’Neill. They were very kind to give me their time and they helped me reach one very important decision: I’m taking the self-publishing route. For many reasons, but here is perhaps the one that means the most to me: Preserving my book as I envisioned it, and not having some editor at a publishing house try to tweak it and mold it into something that will “sell better.” Annabel described this as a “soul-deadening experience,” and I can well imagine that it is. Granted, there is still a certain cachet in being traditionally published, and some people still consider self-published books to be the redheaded stepchildren of “real” books. But that is changing rapidly, and it seems that very soon, that attitude may very well be obsolete.

Next… Mr. Smith asked a very important question. How long is my book, and to whom am I selling it? Who will be my audience? It turns out that the average book out there is 50,000-70,000 words. Just so you’ll have some idea of size, my fiction book What Happens to Naughty Girls? was a little over 47,000. Late Bloomer? At last count, 110,032 words. That’s one hell of a tome.

Mr. Smith said that if my book were all about the kink world and my experiences in it, it would be a slam-dunk — the scene would eat it up. But because I’ve expanded it to be about my life and background as well as my kink, that’s where the question comes in: Who is going to want to read all that? Are the people in the kink sphere, the ones who want to read all about my spanking adventures, going to give a rat’s a#$ about the first 1/3 of the book, pre-Erica Scott? And for those who are interested in the human interest side of the story, is the kink stuff going to appeal?

Am I really all that interesting that people will want to delve into all those words? Good question. I have no idea.

Oh, my head.

For now, I’m rereading the first 1/3 with a ruthless eye, trying to determine what I can excise. So far, not much. Ultimately, I have to make a choice: Am I trying to tell my story in its entirety, or am I trying to sell a lot of books? I’d love to think I can do both, but I am firmly grounded in reality.

I am seeking local photographers with boudoir photo experience to create the image I have in my head for my book cover. I’m a member of Model Mayhem, a networking platform for models and photographers. A lot of people on there are willing to do projects for the exposure and to add to their portfolios, without pay — I’ve been contacted by photographers who’d like to work with me that way. So I thought, well, why not put out a call for one myself? So I submitted what they call a “Casting Call,” describing my photo project and asking if any photographers out there would be willing to help me out, and I’d credit them in my book.

Did I get blasted! Apparently, I committed a massive faux pas. Some people did write to me privately and say I did nothing wrong, that they’d be happy to work with me if they were local. But publicly? Yikes. I was told there is nothing in this that benefits the photographer, that photo credits in a book aren’t worth crap, that there were no decent pictures in my portfolio (ouch) and anyone who wanted to take me on should be paid. One person said something along the lines of, “Why should I invest my time with you for nothing, when you don’t even have enough confidence in your project to pay for a proper cover photo?”

(sigh) I withdrew the casting call. Damn, I wish Zelle were local! Back to the drawing board — I am keeping my eyes and ears open for local pros who won’t consider my request offensive. I certainly didn’t mean to step on any toes. But I have read and been told by many that the cover is extremely important, and I want to do it right — proper framing, lighting and focus, Photoshopping imperfections, etc.

What a whirlwind… but it’s all so exciting. And I am not on a deadline; I can take my time. As Mr. Smith said, many people out there want to write a book, but damn few actually sit down and write one, seeing it through. So I’m quite proud of that.

Onward! Thanks for enduring my blathering. 🙂

Erica’s Helpful Hints — the Monday edition

Greetings, readers. Tonight I present some suggestions about what you might not want to do during a spanking (or maybe you might, as I did — snicker), courtesy of New Guy and me and tonight’s festivities.

When you’re over his knee, it’s probably not a good time to laugh at him when he calls you a smarty-pants. You might end up a smarty no-pants. (No, I can’t take credit for that; he’s the one who said it.)

And don’t let him stick the camera in your face as your head is dangling toward the floor.

So attractive.

Even though you think your readers may be bored with the ottoman pictures week after week, be careful what you ask for. He may put you in a much more uncomfortable position.

Oh, and this probably isn’t the best idea either…

When he finally lets you up from that godawful kneeling-in-chair position, it’s probably not to your best interest to express your gratitude by blurting, “You suck!!”

You’ll just end up in yet another position.

And when you’re in this position and he’s hovering over you, oh, it’s soooo tempting… but resist the urge to lift your heel and verrry gently but strategically place it where it would send him through the ceiling if you were to kick. You may find yourself counting strap strokes and repeating after each one: “That was a really bad idea.”

What else… oh! When he’s futzing around with the camera, which means he’s taking a break from smacking you, shut up about it! Don’t heave a sigh and groan, “Oh, get on with it already, for God’s sake.”

And finally — When he says, “Hey, I just got an idea!” don’t answer, “Did it hurt?”

(Aaaaack! It’s the dreaded mush-butt!)

This concludes tonight’s Helpful Hints. You’re welcome.

Very Important Post — I hope everyone reads

Yes, I know I already blogged today. I had planned to post this particular blog sometime after the weekend, after the Monday play blog. But you know what? I don’t feel like waiting. I have an hour to kill before I leave for John’s, and I want to put this out there. So here goes.

I spent all of 2010 working on a special, personal project; only a couple of people knew about it. I wrote a book. It is a biography/memoir, both of my experiences as Erica Scott, and of those before I allowed her to emerge.

I’ve made no secret, over all my years of blogging and writing on forums, that I struggled with a dysfunctional childhood, and with depression and eating disorders that plagued me for over 20 years. Most of you know I was put on medication at age 36, and that’s when my life began to change. No, I take that back — that’s when my life began, period. In fact, my book is in two parts: Part 1 is called Existence, and Part 2 is called Living. Erica Scott doesn’t even make an appearance until well into the second half.

You all have heard me describe myself as a square peg in a round world. I felt “otherness” very early on, for many reasons. Throw in an undeniable fascination with spanking and no outlet with which to explore it, and you have a whole lot of confusion, fear and self-loathing. But despite all that, I managed to break free and ultimately discover who I am — and accept myself. To embrace my otherness, and fully rejoice in my kink.

I spent several months rereading 50 written journals, several more kept in Microsoft Word and years of forum posts and old blogs. From those, along with my unusually detailed memory, I compiled the story of Erica.

ANYWAY — I met my goal of finishing the first draft by the end of 2010. I read through it a couple of times and edited it, and then I shelved it for a while, taking a break from it. Recently, I read it through one more time, did some more tweaking. Now I’ve decided that’s enough of that, and I want to move forward. So…. now what?

I have been doing some research on getting published the old-fashioned way, and it appears to be a full-time job. There are a bazillion publishers and literary agents, and many ways to go. Writing proposals, sending out sample chapters, writing queries to agents… it’s daunting. And I’m not kidding myself — my book is a niche product. It is not going to appeal to the mainstream.

At first, I thought perhaps I should contact writers with traditionally published erotica/fetish books. I started by choosing three of them and emailed each one, asking if they’d be willing to share a bit about their publishing process, how they made it happen. One didn’t reply at all; one wrote and said she’d get back to me, then never did. The third one sent me a very nice reply, but she made it clear that if I wanted any substantive guidance, I had to pay $200 an hour, two-hour minimum. So I gave up on that idea.

Just for the hell of it, I sent a proposal and some sample chapters to Virgin Books USA, because Virgin UK published Niki Flynn’s memoir, Dances With Werewolves. But I am not expecting anything. Like I said, I know that finding a traditional publisher who’d take my book is like seeking the proverbial needle in a haystack. Another fetish author, Joan Kelly, published The Pleasure is All Mine a few years ago, about her experiences as a pro sub in the scene. I looked up her publisher as well… they’re out of business.

So that leads me to self-publishing. You all know I went the self-publishing route with Lulu, back in 2007. But the industry has grown exponentially in the past four years, and now it’s quite daunting as well. So many choices out there! When I published What Happens to Naughty Girls? on Lulu, I didn’t pay a cent. I carefully formatted my manuscript according to their directions, they converted it to a PDF and then into a book, and that was that. I didn’t have an ISBN, and aside from talking about it on my blog, I had no marketing or distribution. To this date, I’ve sold a whopping 190 copies in four years. I guess that’s OK for a little book of fiction, but considering how much more personal this book is, how much more I put into it, I’d like to do a bit better than that.

All these companies (Lulu, Xlibris, Outskirts, iUniverse, AuthorHouse, CreateSpace, etc. etc. etc.) make it sound like they’re the best for you, of course. They all have various packages you pay for if you want help with formatting, marketing and promotion, ISBNs and so on. But as I delve into each site individually, I keep seeing different pitfalls. Some won’t convert a Word document into a PDF unless you pay for a higher-tier package. Others won’t let you create your own cover (which I want to do, since I have a specific image in mind). Some, like Lulu, have separate packages for editing, marketing and distribution, while others lump everything into one. And yes, some of them still have a free self-publishing platform, but you’re basically on your own with those. This time, I would like to avail myself of some help with marketing and distribution. But I don’t want to pay a fortune for it, either.

Does anyone have any experience with or knowledge of Xlibris? I contacted a few of these companies for their free initial consultation. So far, Xlibris has been the most responsive, and borderline aggressive. They’ve contacted me by phone and email, and they are pushing their packages now because they have a promotional offer going on. Buy one of their packages and you automatically get upgraded to the next higher tier, but you pay the lower-tier price. The guy I spoke with was touting their Professional tier, where you get quite a lot, sounds like, but it’s $1100!! He said I could have it for the Basic tier price, which is $650. I said that was still too high, and he then offered it to me for $520. I said I’d think about it. The offer is good until April 15. I’m a little uneasy about this hard sell, but perhaps they all do that to some degree. However, I don’t want to rush into anything.

So, readers, I am opening the floor to you. Authors out there… what do you think? What are your experiences, and what do you feel is the best way to go? What companies have you worked with? Do you think I may have a viable product? Anyone know of publishers to contact who specialize in off-the-vanilla-path genres?

You know, I had a fantasy of getting all this done, keeping it secret until the end, then blogging “Surprise — guess what? I’ve published my memoirs.” Yeah, it was a nice fantasy, but it’s not gonna happen. I need some help; there are just too damn many choices out there and I don’t want to screw this up.

By the way… the name of my book is Late Bloomer. Because that’s what I am, in every sense of the phrase.

Thank you in advance. 🙂

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