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 “June, 2011”

Post #200!

I can’t believe I’ve been on Blogger under a year and I’ve already reached 200 posts. Apparently, I am quite the chatterbox.

I thought I’d commemorate the occasion with a fun (and hopefully interactive) topic. We all know about the done-to-death “What are your favorite spanking buzz words/phrases?” question. No, I’m not going there. I’m being more specific.

Do your tops/play partners/spouses have a signature phrase they utter often during spanking sessions? Something fairly unique to them?

Of course, I have a few examples. Are you surprised?

New Guy has one he says, without fail, at some point every week. “Oh, does that hurt?” Yes, of course he’s being facetious. Of course he is goading me. Because I could simply answer “Yes” and be done with it, but my mind reels with sarcastic replies and, unless I am nearly done in, one of them will inevitably fly from my mouth.

“No, it tickles.”

“What the @#$% do you think??”

“Stop asking me stupid questions!”

“Yes it does, you bastard.”

As you would guess, not one of these helps my case any.

Craig had a way of being rather incredulous when I had the nerve to say something bratty while in a compromising position.

“Really? You’re saying that to me now? Really???

One time, he got so emphatic, his voice cracked on the final “really.” I asked him if he was going through puberty. That wasn’t appreciated.

And then there was Danny. He used to sigh and say in an exasperated tone, “Oh, Erica. When will you learn?” To which I’d answer, “How about never? Does ‘never’ work for you?”

It didn’t.

Anyone else? OK, I know we’re coming onto a holiday weekend and it’s going to be Death Valley around the blogosphere, but c’mon, it takes two minutes to comment. 🙂

Semi-bored Tuesday

I actually had some work today. Someone found my work listing somewhere online and gave me a cold call. This person is self-publishing a book and his document just needed one thing… a new writer. (sigh) But work is work.

Earlier today, I was getting my hair cut, and my hairdresser mentioned that they had chocolate mint cookie yogurt at YogurtLand, a popular self-service frozen yogurt chain in these parts. And of course, I couldn’t stop thinking about it after I left.

I struggled with that wretched file for about three hours and thought, I deserve a reward, dammit. It wasn’t super hot outside, and there is a YogurtLand about a half-hour walk from my place. So I put on my iPod and went for a brisk walk, figuring I’m burning off the calories in advance.

Finally get there… and no chocolate mint cookie yogurt. @#$%&*!!!!! However, they did have dark devil’s food chocolate and coconut together in one machine, so you could swirl them. That plus some chocolate syrup tastes like a Mounds bar. Yum.

And then another half-hour to walk back home. Incidentally… walking for an hour after some heavy-duty spanking the night before? I don’t recommend it. My butt muscles hurt with every freaking step. Yeah, yeah, I know. No one feels sorry for me.

I noticed there’s a 50-question meme floating around the blogosphere. I haven’t seen one of those in a long time — back in the MySpace days, I used to see those silly things nearly every day. For whatever reason, I’m a sucker for them. So, because I’m bored, here goes. Feel free to copy and do it yourself on your own blog, if you’re of a mind to.

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?

Sort of. Jews have a tradition of giving their children a name that begins with the same initial as a deceased relative’s name. My mother named me with an E name in honor of her aunt Elsie. Thank god she didn’t name me after the Borden cow!

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?

Hmmm… for once, I don’t remember. Sometime last week, I think.

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?

(shrugging) Who handwrites anymore? I guess it’s OK.

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?

Turkey

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?

I do not.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?

LOL… these things always have the requisite really stupid questions. I dunno. Maybe. I wouldn’t expect a whole lot from me, though.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?

Nahhhhhhhh… why on earth would I do that?

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?

Nope; had them out at 11.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?

Sure… right after I flap my arms and fly to the moon.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?

I mix different ones; I like stuff with raisins and nuts. But not dates — blech!

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?

Not if they don’t have laces.

12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?

Physically? So-so. Emotionally? Not very.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?

That’s like asking what my favorite movie is — too many choices to pick one.

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?

Oh, come on, let’s be honest here. The absolute first thing we see of anyone is how they look, so I will say looks.

15. RED OR PINK?

Red

16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?

My inflexibility and fearful nature.

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?

My father

18. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE EXERCISE?

Weights and machines.

19. WHAT COLOR SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?

Not wearing any at the moment.

20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE?

Frozen yogurt! 🙂

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?

iTunes radio — Radio Bop 60s.

22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?

Spank Me Scarlet

23. FAVORITE SMELLS?

Anything baking, fruity/citrusy scents, my sweetie’s hair

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?

John

25. MOUNTAIN HIDEAWAY OR BEACH HOUSE?

Neither — a four-star hotel!

26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?

Don’t like sports.

27. HAIR COLOR?

Brown

28. EYE COLOR?

Brown

29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?

No, glasses

30. FAVORITE FOOD?

Starchy stuff (bread, pasta), seafood, fruit and veggies

31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?

Happy endings (no, not those kinds, you perverts)

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf (taped it from TCM, after Elizabeth Taylor passed away). Good gawd, what a downer film.

33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?

Magenta tank top.

34. SUMMER OR WINTER?

Winter

35. HUGS OR KISSES?

What, I can’t have both?

36. FAVORITE DESSERT?

Pretty much anything chocolate, but a couple of favorites: Marble cake with chocolate frosting, German chocolate cake.

37. STRENGTH TRAINING OR CARDIO?

Both. But if I only have time for one, then strength training.

38. COMPUTER OR TELEVISION?

Computer with the television on in the background. Oh, and for just sitting and watching a movie or TV show, always the television. Don’t like watching programs on a small screen.

39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?

Dick Van Dyke’s autobiography.

40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?

My mouse — duh!! Seriously… Quentin Collins. Yes, really.

(where the hell is #41?)

42. FAVORITE SOUND?

The sound of one hand clapping. The non-sound of absolutely blissful silence.

43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?

Beatles

44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?

New York

45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?

I have perfect pitch and an uncanny memory for useless trivia. Other than that, I’m quite ordinary.

46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?

Beverly Hills, California

47. WHERE ARE YOU LIVING NOW?

Encino, California

48. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR HOUSE?

I don’t have a house. My apartment building is tan with rust-colored trim.

49. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR CAR? Silver

50. DO YOU LIKE ANSWERING 50 QUESTIONS?

All except the stupid ones, like that one.

Have I mentioned lately…

… that I effing love, crave, absolutely adore Monday nights with New Guy?

The world goes away for a couple of hours. I forget it all… I forget about the bills that won’t go away just because I’m not getting work. I don’t fret about my boyfriend who is exhausted all the time, about the threat of inevitable heart surgery looming, even though we never talk about it. My mother, whom I haven’t spoken to since New Year’s Eve? She disappears for a while too. The treadmill of doom grinds to a halt.

All that’s left is a fiercely dominant and sweetly compassionate man, as dependable as the dawn, his bag of tricks, the trust and the pain. The pain that takes me out of the future and the past and puts me squarely in the moment. The pain I struggle against, then surrender to. And the trust that allows it.

I don’t remember the sequence this evening. It seems both of us were insatiable tonight — he couldn’t spank enough, and nothing was too much for me. I know it hurt… I even remember crying out his name at one point, and I only do that when it’s really pushing my limits. Was everything harder and faster than ever tonight, or did I just imagine it? Bent over my recliner, over the ottoman, on the couch, on the carpet… it’s all a blur.

Not many pictures this time. He was too busy whacking to do much clicking. This was taken early in the evening:

Notice that @#$%ing toy bag of his on my left. Arrggh.

Oh, and one more thing is prevalent in those couple of hours. Laughter. Lots of it. He got a wee bit overzealous with the flogger and hit the lamp with it. No damage. “Hey,” he said, “does that mean I’m a light spanker?” Oh, har har har. He made another couple of light/lamp jokes, and really, what else could I do but tell him he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier?

Paid for that, of course.

When we were winding down and talking, I mentioned that I was reading Dick Van Dyke’s autobiography. He said we could play Dick Van Dyke and Mary Tyler Moore; I said no, because Mary was 12 years younger than Dick, and I’m two years older than NG is. “So?” he said. “It’s just pretend. I’m not really Dick Van Dyke.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I murmured. “You’re kind of a Dick sometimes.”

Paid for that too. 😀

He did stop spanking me long enough to… guess what?

Yup.

Watch two episodes of Dark Shadows with me! Yes, I initiated him into my second favorite obsession. He even got to see my heartthrob Quentin.

Wonderful spanking, Dark Shadows, and I’m about to have some chocolate. At this moment, life is quite perfect, thank you.

And I guess this moment is all any of us has.

Correspondence Hall of Shame, 6/24

Been mighty quiet around these parts — where the hell is everyone? Perhaps a few Friday laughs will bring you around.

Today’s first offering is from a 19-year-old (can these guys count?? Do they have any idea how much older 53 is than 19?):

i love ur long legs and booty ;]

Ah, thanks, babe. And I love that sweet li’l soft spot on the crown of your head.

i too luv 2 spank on my buttoks

You know, it’s a lot more fun when someone else spanks your buttoks.

hello sexy lady llike to enjoy my dick on cam 2 cam lets hv cam chat on yahoo messenger

I prefer to enjoy dick person to person, thank you. And what does “hv” stand for?

Wow that is a lovely bottom. Especially for your age (I bet you hate hearing that).

You’d win that bet. And yet, you said it anyway, asshat.

And here’s the Gem of the Week:

You sure are pretty. If I ever get the chance to spank you, would you allow me to spread open your yummy cheeks as you order me “Xxxxxxx, makeout with my asshole as if you were kissing your first loves lips”

OK, now I know what “hv” stands for — Heavy Vomit. Gaaaaaaa! Definitely brings a whole new meaning to “kiss my ass.”

Here’s a tip, Junior. Do not liken a woman’s lips to her anus. It’s a very unattractive and unflattering image.

A side note before I close: I’m thinking about joining Twitter. Not because I think I have a lot of fascinating tweets in me (really, how much can you say in 140 characters?), but because so many people I know are on there and I’d like to follow them. But I’m resisting, because it’s yet another way to waste time on the Internet.

So who belongs, and who tweets? Why should (or shouldn’t) I take this up?

Have a great weekend, y’all.

Elephant syndrome

A good memory is a blessing in many ways. My mind is a treasure trove of archived moments of joy; words that lightened my heart; people, places and things I wish to keep close to me. However, the flip side is that I don’t forget bad stuff, either. Or bad people. When someone @#$%s with me, or with my friends, I don’t let it go. Not a trait I’m proud of.

Several years ago, an utterly dreadful man and his equally dreadful wife joined Shadow Lane. They (mostly him; she was more stupid than arrogant) infiltrated the message board and chat room, holding court, offering unsolicited opinions on pretty much everything. He was a gun-toting, Uber-conservative, bull-necked little toad of a man, and what he lacked in brains, he made up for in nerve. He’d try to tell Tony and Eve how to run their company, their parties, their site. He’d come into the chat rooms and if any of the actresses were there, he’d tell them they shouldn’t be doing spanking videos. He’d glom onto every new female that wandered onto the site. He insulted several of my friends, and once, when His Highness didn’t care for the SL party at the Riviera, he wrote such a nasty critique (on the Shadow Lane board, no less!) that a flame war of epic proportions ensued. 

I really don’t know why E & T put up with him, but I guess that’s why I’m not a business owner. I allow personalities to affect me too much.

One time, there was a thread about personality types, and I posted something tongue-in-cheek along the lines of “I tend to evoke one extreme or the other in people — they either love me or they hate my ass.” Shortly after that, someone anonymously posted, “Please count me among those who hate your ass!”

Oh, yes, so brave, taking anonymous potshots. But what this person didn’t know was that, although his name didn’t show up on the post, his email address came up on Tony’s end of things. Guess who? Yeah, Mr. Bull-neck. Tony emailed me to let me know what he’d done: He’d copied and pasted that nasty comment into an email, sent it to Bull-neck and added, “Peekaboo, I see you.” I nearly fell off my chair, laughing. Wanted to reach right through the computer screen and give him a smooch.

But here’s the best part: Bull-neck, busted and pissed off, quit SL! He and a few of his malcontent cronies then tried to start their own parties, but they quickly discovered that it wasn’t as easy as they thought, infighting occurred and their group dissolved after one or two gatherings. Then he and the Mrs. took off in their trailer and disappeared into the cyber ether.

So why am I mentioning this now? Because I saw this person on FetLife last night. Saw his stupid redneck handle, his big stupid face, and all the anger and icky feelings came flooding back. Saw that a couple of friends of mine had commented to him, and my mind screamed, “NO NO NO! Don’t be friends with this creep!” Like it’s any of my damn business??

FetLife is a huge place with a bazillion members. He has very few friends, so it’s highly unlikely that our paths will cross due to friends in common. But just knowing he’s there creeps me out. And that’s my problem.

My mother spent most of her life ranting and railing about people who had done her wrong, steeping in her own bitterness. I do not want to be her. Not in any way. Resentness is like acid — it only corrodes the vessel in which it is kept.

Anyone else struggle with grudges? I know it’s human nature, but this is a part of my humanity I could do without!

Guess what??

It’s late Monday night! And you know what that means…

Yeah, tomorrow’s Tuesday. ‘Night, y’all.

(OK, I’m kidding. I’m kidding!)  😀  Sorry. It’s been that kind of night. I can’t stop giggling and being silly.

Yes, tonight was all about fun and games, after last week’s intensity. Hard spanking too, of course. Right from the start, thanks to my big mouth. I have been feeling a bit edgy and impatient — I feel like I spend half my life waiting for things and wanting them NOW, and it puts me out of sorts at times.

When he first arrived, I went into the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, and he followed me in, plucking things out of the dish drainer and swatting me with them. First a wooden spoon, then a regular tablespoon. When he picked up a saucepan, I told him to get away from me, but he thumped me with it anyway. “Is that teaching you anything?” he teased.

“Yeah, it’s teaching me that you’re an idiot,” I snapped. Oops. Not too bright of me, I guess. He yanked me over to the ottoman and pushed me down onto it. “Ten with this,” he said, snatching up a thick leather slapper.

“I’m not warmed up!” I protested.

“You should have thought of that before you called me an idiot.”

Ugh. All right, guess I had that coming.

“OK, time for your warmup!” he said cheerfully, pulling me up and over to the couch, and across his lap. He was soon to discover that I had a brand-new thong on, which he liked. “I suppose you think that because these are so cute and they allow so much exposure, I’m just going to leave them up, don’t you?”

“I know better than that,” I answered. This man lives to remove panties. He even likes to pull them back up so he can yank them down again.

You can’t really see them in this picture, but trust me, they’re still up:

Not for long, though. After a nice long hand spanking and some smaller implements (both leather and wood), he sat me up, pulled me up into his arms and carried me to the ottoman once again, depositing me there. (Freaking Neanderthal! What’s up with the manhandling, huh?)

Some different sensations followed — his deerskin flogger and then (I think?) a quirt. Impact first, then biting sting. He’d mix things up, changing tempo and intensity; one second he’d be lightly flogging my upper back, then he’d bring it down with a mighty THWACK on my butt.

By the time we got to the paddle finale, I was quite incoherent.

“Still feeling frustrated?” he murmured, stroking my hair. I shook my head. “Think you’ll be a little more patient now?” Uh huhhhhhhh…

Our first scene is always more intense. But we’re both insatiable, and thus we’ve fallen into a groove of taking a break, sitting and talking, relaxing, and then playing again. Tonight, during Scene Two, I don’t know what got into me, but I could not stop giggling and laughing. No matter what. Thank goodness he has a sense of humor and doesn’t get bent out of shape about laughter during spanking. But he still let me have it regardless.

I wanted to stop laughing! I really did! He kept escalating the swats, trying to get me to shut up, and after one particularly hard flurry, I blurted, “That was just mean!”

“That’s me, mean,” he shot back. “I’m full of meanness.”

“That’s not all you’re full of,” I muttered. He heard me. Oh dear. That didn’t help my case at all.

But finally, all good things must come to an end and he had to reluctantly take his leave. At least I managed to stop laughing.

Oh, and my nice new thong? It was part of a set. Just had to get a picture of that, didn’t we?

I forgot to cut out the tag, dammit. Hey, men? When you’re taking a lingerie shot, don’cha notice when a tag is sticking out?

Pleasantly sore, relaxed and happy, I bid you all good night.

NG, as always, thank you, sweetie. 🙂

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