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 “August, 2012”

Shadow Lane reminiscing

Still have to wait one more day before we head to Vegas. Several people are already there partying up a storm and I’m envious! But there will be plenty of fun left to be had when we get there.

I was thinking about all the parties we’ve attended, the fun memories that stretch all the way back to 1997. I thought I’d share a few.

This one really takes me back — this was at the Sportsman’s Lodge, one of the Valentine’s Day parties. Yours truly is second from the right. Sadly, none of the other three women attends Shadow Lane anymore.

One of my favorite people in the whole wide world, Danny Chrighton. I’m mad at him, though. He chose to spend his money on a camping trip this month, instead of coming to SL. CAMPING??? Let’s review: bare bottoms, gambling and general debauchery, vs. cold, hard ground, bugs galore and stinky bathrooms. Yeah, I can see why he chose the latter. Not.

This is from the first party (2009) where I met the beautiful Sarah Gregory. What I wouldn’t do for those curls!

Me with the handsome Razor Ryan, who did two Shadow Lane videos plus a bunch of others for several companies. He hasn’t been to a party for a couple of years; wish he’d come back!

Finally, one of my favorite photos of John and me. It was taken by our photographer friend Andrew Morgan. And yes, we’re sitting in an empty Jacuzzi.

Can’t wait to make another batch of memories, and hopefully get some new photos. Is it tomorrow yet??

Excited? Who’s excited?

I AM!!!!!!!!!

Some people are already in Vegas. We will probably be arriving just about this time, two days from now.

Rental car booked? Check. Hotel reservation and tickets? Check check. Snacks for the room? Yup. Nerves? checkcheckcheckcheckcheck to infinity.

I can’t help it. It’s just what I do. I worry about everything that can go wrong, that will keep us from getting there. Last year, I heard about how a fire started on the Cajon Pass and the freeway was closed… a mere two hours after we drove through it. Stuff like that gives me a heart attack.

John will say, “When have we not gotten there?” And I’ll reply, “Never, but there’s always a first time!” Poor John. The things he puts up with.

But nerves aside, I am so, so looking forward to this. It’s funny… it used to be that I looked forward to tons and tons of spanking, as much as possible with as many men as possible. In recent years, my focus has changed. I still love the play, but what I relish most is seeing all my friends and meeting new ones. The sheer joy of being among hundreds of spankos.

(the ladies will relate to this part; the men can skip it)

The all-important Friday and Saturday night outfits have been selected! I managed to score a fabulous new dress for a whopping $18. Yesterday, I tore my bedroom apart, trying on clothes, pairing dresses with panties, stockings and shoes, choosing this, rejecting that. And of course, must have spares for everything. I must remember my PJs, because there’s a pajama party on Sunday night. Also shorts and tops, comfortable shoes (one can stand on high heels only so long), and of course, panties, panties and more panties. A spanking bottom woman cannot have too many pairs of panties at a weekend party. I’m even bringing a garter belt and stockings for Saturday night, much as I don’t like hassling with them. After all, John will be there to fasten the garters for me. (It’s a tough job, but he’s willing to fall on the sword.)

And if I didn’t already have enough to be excited about, I had a long phone chat today with someone I haven’t talked with in years — Bethany, from Spanking Epics/Bethany’s Woodshed/Blushing Books. She wants to distribute my books! Her publishing company is doing very well and this would be a fabulous opportunity for me to bring my books back into the spotlight a bit, particularly Late Bloomer. It’s such a weird niche book — part scene, part autobiography, part sad stuff and part sexy stuff — and I never really knew how to market it. Perhaps with Bethany behind it, it will do better. I hope so!

I have sent her all the files, and I’ll let you guys know when everything is up. Also, she’s going to prepare a blog interview for me. This is very cool! I loved working with Bethany and her husband when I shot for Spanking Epics years ago. They treated me very well and I’m thrilled to be in touch with them again. 🙂

So, I’m off to the gym to blow off some nervous energy. For those who have already arrived, don’t party too much without us! We’re coming!

Sooooo much better

Thanks to everyone for your support on Friday, both on here and in private messages. There was a time that day when I thought we’d have to cancel our trip to Shadow Lane, and the frustration over that possibility and not knowing for sure was making me nuts. That, plus some hurt feelings over another issue, sent me into pressure-cooker mode and if I didn’t blow off somewhere in a neat and controlled manner, things were going to get messy. It really helped, writing those few paragraphs and then sharing the full story with a couple of friends. Later, I was calm and resigned, not heading for John’s feeling like a human hornet’s nest. And as it turned out, our trip is safe after all.

Still, it was a long and tiring weekend. Visiting John’s mom in the hospital, then driving to OC to visit my stepdad. I’ve been neglecting him and I really don’t want to do that, because it makes him happy when we come to see him and have a bite to eat with him. For the first time, he looked feeble and old to me. Well, he is 94. He misses my mother. 😦 But he’s pleasant to be around and he’s still telling the same cornball dirty jokes and limericks that he did when I was a kid (with the same impeccable timing). I hope he sticks around for a while.

Sooooo… by today, I was ready for some stress release. Enter Mr. D to deliver my pre-Shadow Lane warm-up, and not a minute too soon.

He said he would use only his hand tonight, but I didn’t hold him to it. He’s very strong, but his hand hasn’t been seasoned yet. (I have no doubt that it will be after a while with me!) I told him about how Craig actually brought a brick into the house and sat in front of the TV slapping the brick, to toughen up his palm. Hilarious image, but it worked! I like to tease, but really, I want it to become comfortable for him so it won’t hurt his hand. What fun is that, if it hurts him?? 😉

We moved into the bedroom and I got some implements: the Spanking Buddy, two small paddles (leather and wood) and my hairbrush. “I want you on your knees, right here,” he said, pointing to the side of the bed. I knelt down and he got down beside me, alternating the four implements. I’d been giggling and sassing with the hand spanking, but not any more. The heat and sting grew and I started squirming around so much, I could feel rug burns starting on my knees. So I waited for him to pause, then asked if I could please lie on the bed.

It didn’t take long, with that first round. I was so full of tension and residual aggravation, and I felt my throat constricting and the tears rising. He noticed the change in my sounds, the deepening of my groans, and ramped it up. And I started to cry. Immediately, he stopped, gathered me close and held me as I wept into his shirt. “It’s ok, I’m here,” he kept whispering. “You’re ok, you’re ok. I’m with you.” He kissed my cheek, kissed my tears. Which, of course, made me bawl harder as I trembled in his arms. But it felt good. I so needed that. I will always need that.

Some people still ask me, how can you have spanking without sex, or at least without some sort of sexual release afterward? If they could see me after a scene, they’d understand. That crying, that shaking, that outpouring of emotion? That is my orgasm.

Oh, we weren’t done, mind you. Just resting. 🙂  Later, after I’d calmed down, he took me back over his knee for more with the implements. No more tears this time, but it definitely hurt more the second round.

We lay on my bed for a long time, coming down and talking, and hours melted by. I’m enjoying getting to know him. The stereo in the background was, once again, playing the annual Rock and Roll A to Z countdown, and they were still in the A’s. They’d just played “America” by Simon and Garfunkel, and “American Pie” has just started. “Oh, they’re in the B’s already,” he murmured.

“Huh??’

“Bye, bye, Miss American Pie!”

I snorted. “It’s ‘American Pie’! And how the hell could they skip from ‘America’ to ‘Bye,’ anyway??” He didn’t have an answer for that, so he reached over and gave me a smack. “Watch it,” he warned.

And of course, I kept giggling at him, shook my head and mumbled, “Dumbass.”

He’d been lying down, but he was bolt upright in a heartbeat. “Oh, you just stepped in it that time, girl,” he growled, pinning me to the bed and snatching the paddles and brush again. Damn, that third round was killer! I didn’t even try to suck it up; I was thrashing around and shrieking “OKOKOK I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry!” (But I was laughing at the same time.)

The clip wasn’t meant to be, kids. He brought it to me on a zip drive, but it seems to be a bit out of sync and choppy. Plus, I tried uploading it here and it just froze everything up. Ah, well. We didn’t take pictures tonight, either. However, after he’d left and I’d gotten undressed, I took one with my timer. I call this: “Mission Accomplished — Stress Released.” Most of my color had faded already, but you can still see a smidgen of it.

I am so very lucky that I met Mr. D when I did. And best of all, I don’t have to worry about him meeting anyone. He’s already dating a woman and she knows all about me. All is cool and copacetic. He even borrowed a couple of my implements to try out on her (after ensuring that I was OK with this, which I totally was).

As he walked out the door, he turned back and said, once again, “I’m not going anywhere.” I made light of it and joked, “Whaddaya mean? You’re going somewhere right now!” But I appreciated hearing it. Even in this short time, he knows how much that means to me.

This weekend, in a weak moment, I said to John, “How come you’re the only one who stays?” He didn’t have an answer for that, just hugged me close. Sixteen years on Thursday, y’all.

Sweet dreams, Mr. D. Thank you.

@#$%&!!!

Yup. That’s where I’m at right now. I am angry and frustrated, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.

Why? I can’t tell you. Because y’all will think I’m the worst, most self-centered and unfeeling bitch on the planet. And I’m not going to subject myself to judgment, even though I know the ones nearest and dearest to me would understand.

So suffice it to say, I am upset and very tired of feeling like this. But in the face of other people’s issues (a lot of sad stuff this week), I feel like mine pales in comparison. So I will rant about it without specifying. And hope that it makes me feel a bit a relief so that I won’t lose my temper and say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

Happy Chrossing to my fellow bloggers who made the list. At least something good happened today. This is most likely not going to be a good weekend; in fact, it will probably be incredibly stressful. But at least I have Monday to look forward to. (How perverse is that; dreading the weekend and anticipating Monday? Who does that??)

Sorry for being vague, folks. But I knew I had to release steam somewhere. When I found myself blowing a gasket over someone’s poor grammar, I knew I was in trouble. Classic overreaction and transference. I’m not angry at the improper usage of a pronoun. I’m just angry.

Thanks for listening. And I hope everyone has a good weekend.

Yayy! Finally! :-)

I’m sorry, y’all! But better late than never, right? Mr. D and I are on a learning curve here. He’s been struggling with the file-share thing, plus being super busy with work and his own life (dammit, I hate it when other people’s lives don’t conform to my schedule), and what I should have done was tell him to send the photos first, and not to worry about the clip.

So, we’ll get it all worked out. The poor dear… it seems he has file sharing confused with rocket science. 🙂  (Yes, I know I’m going to pay for that.)

Anyway

Before we started, he somewhat sheepishly said, “So, I was doing some yardwork…” and held out his hands. Several Band-Aids. Tsk. “So, no hand spanking then, I’m thinking,” I teased. He insisted he could do some, and proceeded to prove it with an OTK warmup.

He’d read my ABCs of spanking. Over and over, apparently. He’d even thought one or two of them were written just for him. (Why do tops always think everything is about them?) For example, my “D = Don’t hurt yourself, darlin’ ” was referring to his very sore arm two weeks ago after we played. Heavens, no. That’s just one of my standard lines! Ask anyone.

No hard acrylic stuff this time. He had a new toy — I guess one would call it a mini-flogger? It could be soft and sensual, but it also packed a wallop. Here’s what it looks like:

Damn stupid underwear tags! I really need to get into the habit of cutting those things off.

We started out with a lot of banter (and giggling on my part). He was quoting a lot of my ABCs: “So, feeling like taking a nap yet?” “Have I learned how to use this implement, do you think?” “Am I even?” He commented that I wasn’t getting red yet, and I said, “Well, maybe if you didn’t stop every five seconds!” (He likes to take mini-breaks; let me think he’s stopping and then start up again. I’m learning his Modus Operandi.)

He also is fond of the phrase, “Excuse me??” Said that many times, in an incredulous tone, at my various smart-ass cracks. I’d loudly reply, “I said…” and repeat the comment. Finally, after he’d said “Excuse me?” for the umpteenth time, I remarked, “You know, you say ‘excuse me’ a lot. Do you have gas?”

You can figure out for yourselves how that went over. 🙂

After a while, he announced that we were taking a brief break. What? No! Don’t stop! “What for?” I blurted. “Because you’re bleeding a little,” he answered.

Huh? How did that happen? Just a tiny spot on my right cheek, but I was really surprised. He went to the kitchen and got some ice from my freezer. When he came back, I was rubbing my right cheek a bit.

“I didn’t say you could do that,” he calmly said. I shrugged, went on rubbing and said, “You didn’t tell me I couldn’t, either.” He sighed. “Don’t move,” and left the room again, returning with lengths of black rope, and tied my hands together in front of me. “I guess you won’t be reaching back there now, huh?”

Gee, ya think?

Not to worry, though. I started getting into the zone, and soon thereafter, my mouth stopped running. Snarkastic words were replaced with moans and sighs. He said he could tell my body language was changing; it was like I’d started melting into the bedspread. And my feet were moving differently. Funny; I’ve never had anyone notice what my feet are doing. But yeah, I guess they are active. I don’t kick, but I curl and uncurl my feet, twist them together, curl up my left heel (never the right; not sure why).

After a long flurry, I was nearly toast. But when he leaned down and whispered, “You want a little more, don’t you,” I nodded my head. “Finish me,” I murmured. He did.

Lovely. The aftercare was lovely too. So gentle.

He keeps saying to me, “I’m not going anywhere.” This time, he added, “And I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe it.” Part of me hates that I’m so transparent, coming off as vulnerable and needy. But it is what it is. Too damn many losses in the past year or so, and I’m finding it hard to believe in much of anything lately. But I’m working on it.

Looking forward to next Monday already. Yesterday and today, I had that delicious soreness. Felt it with every single squat and lunge today at the gym. Cursed and smiled at the same time. 🙂

A couple of quick notes: Remember my post about Tumblr photo sites, and how the pictures are almost never credited? I figure on the rare occasion that I run into one of mine, I’ll simply credit it right here. So, if any of you happened to read Plector’s Tumblr yesterday, and saw this and these? Yup. Yours truly.

And finally… RIP to our blogging friend Tim, who lost his battle with cancer.

Off to the showers with me. I was so eager to post this thing, I ran right to the computer as soon as I walked in the door from the gym. Yes, I’m just that dedicated.

Tonight’s blog…

… will have to wait until tomorrow. I have not received the photos from Mr. D yet.

His camera is brand new, and the removable thingamajig isn’t compatible with my old computer, because there isn’t any slot for it. (No comments from any of you.) I have USB ports, but that’s it. So he has to download and send the pictures to me when he gets home. Two weeks ago, he sent them right away, but he may have gotten distracted tonight. (sigh) Ah well. It was a lovely time, so it will be worth the wait. He even took a small clip of video, but has to figure out how he’s going to send it to me. I suggested RapidShare, but that site is confusing. Any other file-sharing sites that you guys like? I am such a dunce when it comes to this stuff.

I am liking this new friendship more and more. 🙂  Stay tuned.

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