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, 2012”

Leap Day

So I logged in late this morning to my AOL address and found 135 returned emails. WTF?? I also got several emails from friends, all with the same message: “You’ve been hacked.”

Ugh. My apologies to anyone who got funky spam email from me last night or this morning. I have changed my password and that seems to have halted the insanity. Also running a full spyware/malware scan. Oh, and to add insult to injury, I just got a rent increase.

This has not been a good few days — not for me, not for some of my friends either. ST’s car repairs are very expensive — we’re talking thousands. John has to go back to the doctor on Friday to get fluid drained from his knee. Family issues with another friend; play partner issues with yet another. And the beat goes on. As you can see, I deleted yesterday’s post. I was in a vulnerable state and it was just too personal, and too damned abstract and weird. I did save it, along with all the kind comments people posted. So thank you.

But enough of that. In honor of Leap Day, I’m going to leap forward into some upcoming fun and happy times.

A week from this Saturday, the lovely Lily Starr will be in town, and I will be shooting Clips4Sale content with her and her boyfriend. The message she sent was a keeper, so complimentary and sweet (and the timing was perfect, as I got it around the same time I got that @#$%ing restraining order, so it cheered me up). So I will meet with them at their hotel and we’re doing three scenes. (She usually shoots both M/F and F/F, but in this case, they’ll be all M/F.) We were bouncing around a couple of ideas for plots, and here’s mine — I’ll be taken to task for getting involved in online flame wars (straight out of the pages of FetLife). Rather timely, don’t you think? We could have lots of fun with it. Of course, no names will be mentioned, but our friends will know! (snicker)

And in less than two months — Boardwalk Badness!! I still can’t believe we’re going. But the tickets are paid for, the hotel room is booked (good thing, because they ran out of rooms) and so is our flight. I think I scored a good flight; non-stop both ways, $280 each. I figured I’d better lock that in, rather than take a chance that I could find something cheaper down the line. In fact, when I first found that flight, it was $258, but I didn’t book it right way — I waited to check with John. He said fine, absolutely, grab it. So I went back the next day, and damned if the same flight hadn’t gone up to $280. In one freaking day!

The buzz is already starting on FetLife. So many people going, so much to do. I actually talked John into taking an extra day off, and we’re flying in Thursday afternoon. We’re going for broke — it’s a very expensive weekend and I doubt we’ll repeat it next year, but this time, we’re doing it all the way! Arriving Thursday, leaving Monday morning. I have a feeling I’m going to have to declare Thursday night a socialize-only, no-spank evening; have to pace myself, after all. I’m going to be among some incredible spankers, and meeting new ones (well, new to me). Mustn’t let my eyes get bigger than my bottom.

Fasten your seat belts, kids. I’m going to be Neurotic Nellie for the next couple of months. (Yeah, I know. How is that any different than how I usually am? sigh)

ST asked me last night how I was. I said I’ll be better next Monday, which is true. I can’t wait to see him, and to get some of my favorite kind of stress release. For today, however, the gym will have to suffice.

RIP, Daydream Believer.

Not my usual Monday post

A few friends have commented/written to me that my Monday night session with ST will do me a great deal of good this week, help me release some stress. I agree. However, poor ST has his own stress; his car is in the shop and he can’t get here. So no session for us tonight.

I did, however, have a catharsis of sorts on Saturday afternoon. The FetLife BS on Friday, coupled with what happened on this blog on Saturday while I was offline (the latter has been deleted and will not be discussed any further), sent me into spectacular Erica-esque meltdown mode.

John, bless his heart, did all the right things. Asked very few questions. Took me into the bedroom, closed the blinds and lay on the bed with me, pulling the comforter over us both. Reached across me to snatch several tissues from the box on the nightstand, grabbing more as I saturated the ones I had.

I felt ridiculous, telling him what was going on. I said he must think I’m an idiot, overreacting like this to online stuff; that I probably needed to get more of a life. He replied that my distress was real and it didn’t matter what the reason was. I love him for that. Sometimes, when you’re upset, you do NOT need to hear how others really have it bad and you need to get a grip. It doesn’t help.

Finally, I settled down and slept. Order was restored. But, as with an alcohol bender, emotional excess ravages the body. Today, I find myself pale, puffy-eyed and sluggish, with a mildly queasy stomach. Perhaps it’s just as well that I won’t be playing. As much as I will miss ST, I don’t think I’d be a fun playmate this evening.

However, since it’s Monday, I feel somewhat beholden to post something entertaining. So I will call your attention to a few new sampler clips on Spanking Tube.

I mentioned a while back that “Tubaman” Paul had opened his clips4sale “Spanking 101” store. Last week, he put up two 5 1/2-minute samplers of some of the clips. You can get a nice idea of the variety of material he has from these samplers and I am hoping they will pique people’s curiosity.

Here is Sampler #1:

And here is Sampler #2:

In #1, I turn up twice, and in #2, three times. Can you spot me? πŸ™‚

Also, in the Spanking Court clip collection, there’s a new sampler, nearly 3 minutes long, of various spanking snippets. I’m in this one as well, for about 3-4 seconds, at 1:19.

And finally, because it’s not really a Monday without a “happy Erica” photo, here’s an oldie:

Some of you may remember this one: it’s from my first session ever with ST (who was New Guy back then), nearly a year-and-a-half ago, right after my birthday.

I intend to feel like that again soon. Next Monday will return to regularly scheduled perversity, I promise.

Not having a good day

I had planned to post something a lot more interesting and thought-provoking, but that will have to wait. Something else just took precedence and I need to get it off my chest.

You all remember my talking about the recent flame wars on FetLife, with a certain person who upset a lot of others and whom I took on publicly because I couldn’t stand how she was insulting my friends. That has died down in the past couple of weeks; this person left the group where all the wars were occurring, and we’ve moved on with new topics and so forth.

But just now, I received email from the FetLife caretakers. It reads as follows.

Hi Erica_Scott,

Because of the ongoing problems between you and sassyPGH, this email will serve for what we call a FetLife Restraining Order, in the hopes that it will help resolve any further problems between the two of you. What this does is request that you both, from this point on, cease speaking of (directly or indirectly), to, or about each other. We’re asking that you pretty much β€˜pretend’ that the other person does not exist on the site. And yes, an email just like this one will be sent to them as well. πŸ™‚

We will also request that both of you remove any other posts on FetLife about one another. If we come across any ourselves, we will remove them without notification or a warning (if they are from the past), and WITH notification and a warning (if they are from this point forward).

If this FetLife Restraining Order is violated in any shape or form, or if either you try to circumvent it, a warning will be issued. If the behavior continues, someone may be removed and banned from the site. We really hate to do that, but we hope that by creating this restraining order, both of you can get back to enjoying FetLife without any further problems. After all, having fun is what living a FetLife is all about!!! Well, as long as you define fun as… but we digress!

If things come to light that need our attention or if you have any questions, please feel free to email us.

I can’t believe this. I’ve been served with an online restraining order. Like some sort of stalk-y, creepy troublemaker. It makes me feel sick.

Here is what I wrote back:

Dear Christopher,

I am very distressed and saddened by this. It has never been my intent to be regarded as a troublemaker on FetLife. I love the site and as you can see from my profile, I support it financially. As you can also see, I have many friends, so in general, I am not disliked.

I’m not normally a combative person; I avoid conflict like the plague. But SassyPGH is a dreadful person — critical, judgmental, opinionated, passive-aggressively nasty, and if you check her records, you will see many arguments and flame wars in which she’s been involved. She has insulted my friends many times, and one thing I cannot abide is seeing my friends insulted. I leap to their defense.

If you check back through the threads in question, you will see that, other than malcontent, I never resorted to calling her names. She, on the other hand, has referred to me and my friends as “pissy, petty narrow-minded bitches,” “pathetic attention whores” and people who expect others to “kiss our royal paid-for asses.” She threatened on a public thread to out someone’s private information. (Unfortunately, the moderator took that post down.)

I have gone back into past threads, but I don’t see any way to remove my posts. But I promise you there will been no new ones anywhere on FetLife regarding her, or even hinting at her, from now on. I admit I’m feeling a bit paranoid, like I’m being watched. It’s not a nice feeling. However, I will cooperate fully, because I like this site and I would hate to lose it.

Erica Scott

I feel like I’m going to have some sort of Big Brother-ish presence, overseeing all my posts to make sure I’m behaving myself. Perhaps that’s paranoid of me, and I’m making a much bigger deal out of this than it is. But I’m just so damned upset right now.

There has been other nastiness on FetLife recently, and while I’m not directly involved with that, I’m friends with the person involved, so I’m guilty by association. I wonder if someone else reported me, just for malice. Again, I know that sounds paranoid, but with some of the crap going down online these days, nothing is impossible.

I don’t want to be banned from FetLife. I have fun there and it keeps me in touch with so many friends. But right now, I’m feeling very icky about it. And very sad.

Not a good day, indeed. And I didn’t even get Chrossed, dammit! 😦

Wednesday weirdness

As I look around the blogosphere lately, I’m reading such interesting, funny and poignant posts. I have no such thing here today. Just some random oddities.

First, in the ongoing madness of search keywords, here’s the latest and strangest of the strange:

my panties lyrics

Funny, I never knew there was a song called “My Panties.” Perhaps it goes something like this? (sung to the tune of “My Bonnie”):

My panties are grabbed by the waistband,
My panties are down to my knees,
My panties are pooled ’round my ankles,
Oh, pull up my panties for me!

Pull up, pull up,
Pull up my panties for me, for me
Pull up, pull up,
Oh, pull up my panties for meeeeee!

Thank you. I have ruined yet another song. πŸ™‚

Yesterday, I did the bus-and-train sojourn downtown to see the periodontist, who is monitoring my gum recession. Good news — in six months, there’s been no change, which means I don’t need to have surgery. We agreed he’ll check me every six months and keep an eye on things.

Thank goodness it’s only every six months. I don’t know how people deal with daily commutes on public transportation. On the way downtown, the woman seated behind me had a wet, dripping, horrible cold, and I had to listen to a rattling, phlegmy sniffle every minute or so. For God’s sake — haven’t you heard of Kleenex? I wanted to reach into my purse, withdraw my pocket pack of tissues and fling it over my shoulder. Blow your @#$%ing nose!!

But that was nothing compared to the ride home. Fortunately, I have a good photographic memory and I can relay a lot of detail. Still, nothing compares to the actual sight before my eyes, stepping onto the bus and sitting down across from me.

I don’t know how old she was — maybe early to mid 20s. Doesn’t matter. It’s what she wore that burned into my retinas.

A baby-doll dress, white with blue and gold paisley print and adorned with blue sequins. It barely came down to her thighs, so underneath it she wore — wait for it — multiple layers of starched, ruffled lavender petticoats. It would have looked ridiculous had she been thin, but unfortunately, the image was worsened by the fact that she was quite overweight.

But wait, there’s more. On her feet were rainbow-colored, tie-dyed sneakers and light blue bobby socks. On each wrist, several dime-store bangles (plastic, rhinestones, macrame). She had a large multi-colored clip in her hair, shaped like a butterfly. And she wore large headphones. OK, nothing strange about headphones, right? But these weren’t just any headphones. They were covered with purple and pink heart-shaped rhinestones.

Topping off the ensemble? A turquoise Tinkerbell backpack.

I tried not to stare. But it was like the proverbial car wreck.

I’m reminded of a line I heard many years ago — I can’t remember who it was, but this performer (a comic, I think) was talking to a woman wearing a loud, garishly colorful ensemble, and he said, “Nice outfit. Looks like Walt Disney threw up.”

What’s everyone giving up for Lent? I think I’ll give up taking public transportation.

Deja Vu all over again

The Valentine’s Day corset, revisited! ST was able to exchange the small for a medium, no problem. Oh, and he found something out while he was back at Frederick’s. Turns out the corset unhooks after all.

No, not in the front, which was where I searched for hooks. But all down one side, hidden in the seam, are hook-and-eyes. Last week’s epic struggles to get me into that thing weren’t necessary. Oops.

(blushing) See, told you I’m unsophisticated about corsets.

So this one I was able to get into myself, although I did enlist ST’s help in hooking it and then tying up the back. And it fit perfectly!

He watched while I pulled on the stockings and buckled my shoes, snapping candid photos. He likes to do that. And I end up deleting most of them, because I don’t like how I look. However, every now and then, one comes out pretty well, I think:

A little something for the legs and feet folks. πŸ˜€

Of course we had to take one from the back, just so you could see how much better this one fit:

Enough of that. We had to get down to business.

I’ve been in a different place the last few sessions; a quieter version of myself. Hard to believe, I know. But I haven’t really felt like bantering or sassing as much, not once we get past warmup. Not sure why; I just want to feel. To get lost in sensation; hear nothing but my own breathing, my own moans, the cracks of his hand and the implements.

I don’t remember what he did, or in what order. I don’t care. I just know I went someplace with him and I didn’t want to come back. It took me a very long time to open my eyes and lift my head.

He was patient. He was in no hurry either.

Eventually I returned, and he hunkered down next to me on the chair. We listened to the music playing. My favorite local radio station has been airing a special program for the past week or so: a selection of 2000 songs from their library, played in alphabetical order, no repeats. Tonight, they were well into the S’s and “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” by Pink Floyd was playing.

I like to try guessing what comes next. Sometimes I’m spot on, but I couldn’t come up with the next song to save my life. Or my ass, as it happened. Because ST said if I couldn’t guess the next song, he’d spank me all through it. Aggggghhhh!

Shine? Shining? Shirt? Shiver? Perhaps no more songs with Shi, but one with Sho? I was blanking. As the song wound to a close, he kept prompting me, “You’d better come up with something! It’s almost over!” But it was no use.

Then the opening chords of the next song began, and I cussed mightily. DAMMIT! “Shiny Happy People” by REM. I hate that stupid song. No wonder I couldn’t think of it.

I hate it even more, now. 😦  Never realized how @#$%ing long it is.

However, I was able to come up with the song after that. Yay me!

It was “Ship of Fools” by the Doors, by the way. Yes, I’m easily entertained.

When ST was leaving, I thanked him once again for the beautiful corset, saying it was very generous of him. He leered at me, his eyes leisurely wandering from shoulder to hip. “I didn’t buy it for you,” he smirked.

Oh, yes you did, darlin’. You bought it for both of us. πŸ™‚

Hope everyone had Presidents’ Day off!

New E-book: The Spanking Hand Book

A few months ago, several of us writers/bloggers were approached by a publishing company called Instructing Eve, based in Australia. They were requesting contributions to an e-book about spanking and listed several topics we could cover. I believe they ended up with 16 of us, and the result of our collaboration is now available for purchase!

If I try to list some of the other contributors, I will certainly omit someone and that would be inappropriate. So I’ll just say I’m in good company, and the book is packed with fun stuff — short stories, tips and tricks, and very cute illustrations. My contribution? A list of tongue-in-cheek tips entitled “What NOT to Say to Your Spanker.” Rather than go for the smart-ass remarks and comebacks we all know and love, I endeavored to come up with some originals, all of which I’ve used myself, of course. πŸ™‚

The Instructing Eve folks sent all kinds of goodies, including pictures and banners. I posted one of the banners on the right-hand side, directly underneath my two books. If you click on it, it takes you directly to the ordering page.

Or, you can just click here. Just $5.95, y’all. Cheap!

In other news: John and I were finally able to pull off our Valentine’s Day weekend. His knee is still swelling every time he’s on his feet for any length of time, but he’s been icing it and taking anti-inflammatories, so I guess we just have to wait it out. Regardless, he said he was fine with going out for our special dinner.

I surprised him by getting completely dressed up — form-fitting LBD, stockings and heels, and even a cute new pair of boy-short panties with a pattern of red and pink hearts on a black background. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom as I put on makeup, gawking at me. “Um, sweetie? Let me make sure I’m clear on this,” he quipped. “Does this mean I have to wear long pants?”

“Correct,” I smiled. The man lives in shorts on the weekends, no matter how cold it is. And Teva sandals. “Does that mean shoes and socks, too?” “Correct,” I repeated. As if he didn’t know. And may I say that when he was dressed, he looked damned handsome. πŸ™‚

I’d given him a card, a heart-shaped balloon and a case of these, his absolute favorite chocolate bar (hard to find, so he’s always excited when he gets some). John had already sent me roses and hidden a one-pound box of See’s in my car, so I figured that was plenty, along with our lovely dinner. However, he had other plans.

We ordered, and he left to go use the restroom. After he returned, we chatted until our server brought our plates. I looked very happily at my fettuccini with grilled vegetables and tomato-herb sauce and picked up my fork, then jumped as the server appeared again at my elbow. “And something special for the lady,” he said, placing a wrapped package by my plate. John burst out laughing when he saw my shocked reaction. Turns out he hadn’t gone to the restroom after all; he just snuck over to the server and asked him to help with the surprise.

I love that man.

I was a big grown-up girl, though. I didn’t open my present until we were both finished with our meals. Another beautiful vintage watch to add to my collection, and one I recognized. When we’d gone to have his watch serviced a few months ago, I’d admired it in the jewelry case.

Did I mention that I love that man?

Dinner was perfection, and then we drove to a nearby coffee house, also a favorite. I’ve mentioned it before — the one with the fabulous cakes, including our obsession, German chocolate cake. Luck was with us that night and they had some left, so we shared a gigantic slab of it.

John and I couldn’t take our eyes off each other. I felt like I did when we first started dating. To watch us last night, you’d never know we’ve been together 15 1/2 years.

But of course, we’re not kids anymore. When we got home, John put his foot up on an ottoman piled high with pillows, wrapped an ice-pack and Ace bandage around his knee, and promptly fell asleep. I snuggled against him, watched Saturday Night Live and ate three pieces of See’s chocolate.

Wouldn’t have it any other way. β™₯

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