How well do I know Mr. D?

When Mr. D arrived yesterday, he mentioned my blog — specifically, the post with the meme about John. “So, do you know the same stuff about me?” he asked.

Um. Well. Let’s be fair here; we’re comparing nearly 17 years to 9 months. I’ve never been shoe shopping with Mr. D, for example. How would I know what his shoe size is? But I do know some stuff. Fortunately, I’m blessed with a good memory for detail.

We did something a little different with the videos. On a lark, I had posted a very short clip on Spanking Tube and on FetLife, with the camera on my face instead of on my bottom. I figured people would bitch about it (“Show your butt!”), but much to my surprise, people loved it and asked for more. So we shot everything with the camera in front of me, angled so you could see Mr. D and his whaling on me in the background.

Yesterday was all about testing. First, before he started quizzing me, he had me do this bizarre count. I had to count up from one, and then down from thirty, alternating the two. So it went like this, with each swat: “One, 30, 2, 29, 3, 28…” and so on. Reasonably simple, unless you’re being whacked hard with each number and you can’t think straight. He tricked me at the end of the first round and we had to start all over again. We got that count on video, which ended with my screeching, “You suck!!”

And after that began the Mr. D questions. Now, while I managed to get this uploaded to FetLife, I tried three times to upload it to Spanking Tube (so I could grab the embed code), and each time, it disappeared into the ether, no explanation. So I was forced to go to Vimeo once again, even though I don’t like posting there, but it was the only way I could get a code to paste here and share with you guys. (Yes, I’m still getting error messages when I try to directly upload video on here. Blogger is effed up.) 

So here you go:

MVI 9826 from Erica Scott on Vimeo.

After the laughter came the tears. I was feeling bad about having to let go of a friend I’d known for years, because their behavior had gone off the rails and there was no reasoning with them anymore, so I had to disengage. So it felt so right to let go and bawl, embrace the pain, embrace Mr. D’s tender but firm ministrations. One cane stroke stung so fiercely, I rolled over onto my back and curled up, but he simply coaxed me back into position and continued. After that, I stayed in place until he decided we were done.

Discreetly wiping my tears:

I’m getting used to going to the gym post spanking. That’s not to say I like it; I’m just adjusting to it. :-Þ 

Enjoying a quiet day, doing some work. I thought I might get called back to the temp job I’d had one day last week, but I guess not. No worries. Last Wednesday, I wore dress slacks and pumps, put on makeup, blew out my hair, and sat at a strange desk. Today, I’m in my sloppies, my hair looks like a mop, and I can perv FetLife and other fun stuff in between work sets. You guys can guess which one I prefer. 🙂

Hope everyone had a nice weekend.

Some odds and ends about John

Earlier this week, Hermione posted a meme that asks questions about our mates. I thought it would be fun to fill it out for my sweetheart.

1. He’s sitting in front of the TV, what is on the screen?
History channel or CNN.

2. You’re out to eat; what kind of dressing does he get on his salad?
Vinaigrette.

3. The most striking thing about his physical appearance?
Hard to choose just one, but long, muscular legs.

4. You go out to eat and have a drink; what does he order?
Imported beer or red wine.

5. Where did he go to high school?
LaSalle High (Catholic private school, which was all boys at the time. Yech!)

6. What size shoe does he wear?
Size 12.

7. If he was to collect anything, what would it be?
Books.

8. What is his favorite type of sandwich?
Veggie burger.

9. What would he eat every day if he could?
Dark chocolate, sushi, barbecue potato chips.

10. What is his favorite cereal?
Oatmeal.

11. What would he never wear?
Tennis shoes.

12. What is his favorite sports team?
He’s not into sports.

13. Who did he vote for?
Same guy I voted for. 🙂

14. Who is his best friend?
Me!

15. What is something you do that he wishes you wouldn’t do?
Horrible-ize (imagine the worst-case scenario in things).

16. What is his heritage?
Some Irish, I think.

17. You bake him a cake for his birthday; what kind?
Bake? What is this bake? Would buy German chocolate or carrot cake.

18. Did he play sports in high school?
Probably just gym. He was more of a science geek than a jock.

19. What could he spend hours doing?
Reading.

20. What is one unique talent he has?
He makes me laugh harder than anyone else can.

Things are quiet here in blogging land. I’m getting a lot of views, but very few comments (unless you count all the @#$%ing spam that Blogger is getting lately!). It’s maddening; I get spam comments in my inbox, so I send them to the spam folder. Then I check the spam folder and see that legitimate messages have gone in there. Stupid! 

Also, does anyone know a simple, free program I could use to reduce the file size of videos? Mr. D’s camera is HD and his video files end up being huge, even though they’re only a minute or two. I tried loading one of them to Spanking Tube, but it was 1.1 GB and their limit is 750 MB. The webmaster very kindly reduced it for me, but I’d like to be able to do it myself. I tried a program called Any Video Converter, but it was impossible to figure out and their support email was no help at all, so I uninstalled it.

Hope everyone is having a peaceful week.

The BBW Antidote

As I’d mentioned on Friday, the theme for the weekend (and Monday) was distraction. I didn’t want to think about BBW and missing so many friends and all that fun. John and I had a fabulous weekend; we went to Santa Anita racetrack, of all places, comped into their ultra-fancy Turf Club, where we got all dressed up to have a fabulous lunch and watch the horses. More on that later.

So the weekend was fun, but yesterday morning, the blues started setting in. FetLife and Twitter were abuzz with posts and comments and photos from BBW, the accolades were pouring in, and I felt that old, familiar sense of being left behind. Fortunately, Mr. D was coming over that morning to save the day.

Our scene was long, intense and multi-layered. There was a lot of banter and silliness for a while, especially during the OTK portion. He’s really taking this “no flinching” thing too damn far, you know? I had to keep my legs perfectly still, and every time I jerked or flinched, he’d add 30! And then he’d do everything he could to screw me up so I’d miscount and we’d have to start over. Including his going to 31 once, and when I protested, he said, “Oh, my bad. I went over. You’ll have to be punished for that; 30 more.” @#$%&!!!!!!

Then we moved to the ottoman, where he let me wait and wonder what he was up to, bustling about with his backpack, pulling things out.

He’d mentioned kitchen utensils, so I brought him a wooden spoon and a rubber spatula. What the hell was I thinking?? Oh well… he would have just gone in himself and rummaged in the drawers. 

He put my arms in restraints at my sides. And so began the barrage of implements, one at a time. Interspersed with his hand, of course.

Doesn’t he have beautiful hands/arms? 🙂

I was having a lot of fun with smartassery, cussing at him and talking back (as evidenced in the video posted below). But as time went on, my mood changed as I dipped into subspace and silenced. Then, stripped of my sass, the real mood set in — the sadness. The ache of missing the party of the year. And the tears came to my eyes.

Mr. D knew. He paused for a while, soothing me, then whispered, “You’re not quite done, are you.” “I don’t know,” I sniffled. He knew that meant “No. Finish me.” So he did, with a flurry of the cane, the wooden paddle and his hand, while crooning tenderly to me, encouraging me to hang on, it was almost over. I wept through it all. And yes, I was a very well-spanked woman.

I cried for a long time after we ended, while he held me close. “Let it out, let it go,” he murmured to me. I did. I’d felt so disconnected, and this was reconnecting me. 

“You don’t just like being spanked,” he’d observed earlier, “you really need it. It’s part of your core being.” He’s right. How well he knows me already.

Anyway, to lighten things up a bit, here’s a snippet of our scene that I posted on Spanking Tube. I called it “The Smartass and the Spatula.” 🙂



Back to the weekend for a moment: John’s sister, who works for a very tony college and gets all kinds of perks, got us two comps to the Turf Club restaurant at Santa Anita race track. I’d never been, so this was new and fun. We sat outside, but under a massive overhead structure that kept out the heat and the sun. 

Look, horsies!

John went to put down some small bets for us, and as I sat at our table, who did I see walking a couple of feet away but Tim Conway. Oh my! During all the years my father had worked on the Carol Burnett show, I’d met everyone else, but for whatever reason, I’d never met Tim. And I love him. So, without overthinking it, I called out, “Mr. Conway?” He turned, smiled and said, “Yes?” And I blurted, “My father was [deleted]!” His eyes widened. “Really? Wow, aren’t you lucky!” (what a cool thing to say, right?) Then he shook my hand, asked how I was, said it was nice to meet me. As he was walking away, John came back, and he teased, “Picking up on old men, are you?” “That was Tim Conway!” I blabbered. “Get out!” he said. “Are you having a perfect day, or what?”

I really was. The champagne didn’t hurt, either. 😉 And to put a cherry on top of the day, look what we say on our drive home:

Sooo cute! I kept trying to get them to look over at us, but they were busy munching and couldn’t care less about our presence. My sweetheart gave me a lovely weekend, and I am so grateful to him for that.

OK. Life goes on. The party talk will go on for a while, then fade. The godawful haircut I got last Thursday will grow back. They caught the Boston bomber. I have work. And I am in my peaceful place today. 

Focus, Erica

Good stuff for this Friday:

1. Work is definitely picking up. I heard from the headhunter; I got another project from yet another new client and will be getting a third soon; I might even be able to unload one client whose work is the most demanding and pays the least.

2. I got Chrossed today — always a happy thing for me.

3. I’m heading for my sweetie’s house in a few hours. Last weekend he was semi-crippled with a pulled back muscle, but now he’s much better and in good spirits.

4. I’m looking forward to another lovely Monday with Mr. D.

Things I do not want to think about:

1. What’s going on in Boston. I can’t deal with it. I was chatting with Mr. D earlier; he’s had the news channel on nonstop, and he was up on every detail. I can’t do that; I haven’t watched the news in days. It’s so damn depressing and scary and I know my mind will go to bad places if I don’t focus elsewhere. And once it goes there, it’s a downward spiral. The reports on the victims are heartbreaking and a sense of powerlessness and fear can loom very large.

2. The fact that hundreds of people, including many friends I adore, are currently convening in Atlantic City for Boardwalk Badness. Even though the party “officially” begins today, many have been there since Wednesday/yesterday, and already the tweets and photos and FetLife comments are showing up. It’s going to continue all weekend and into Monday, and then there will be at least a week of post-party reporting.

You know, I’m reading about people’s struggles with airports (delayed/cancelled flights), hassles with getting from the airport to the hotel, etc., and part of me is thinking, “I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with that stress.” But then I remember how the weekend is so well worth that stress. And I wish I could just blink my eyes or twitch my nose and be there.

Distract me, folks. Help me distract myself. Because I’ll be damned if I’m going to let my half-empty-glass personality bring me down when there is so much to be happy for right now.

Go spank/get spanked. Go hug your loved ones. And have a great weekend, y’all.

Spanking Tube video

OK, kids, I got brave. I posted my first video ever on Spanking Tube. Mostly I did it because I wanted to be able to embed the code and post it on here, which I will do below. But I know that Spanking Tube is rife with critics and a#$holes, who seem to exist solely to watch videos 24/7 and post rude commentary.

Sure enough, my video wasn’t up for more than a few hours when some jerk-off called me a “faker.” LOL! Let him feel that Delrin cane and see if he still thinks I’m faking.

Anyway, here ’tis:



I seem to be on a roll with videos lately. I posted four small clips on FetLife of Mr. D and myself, and all four made the Kinky & Popular page. The “loves” and comments have been gratifying.

People may not want to shoot with me anymore, but goddammit, I’m still a video presence. So there. :-Þ

Who’s in charge here?

(Note: I held off posting this until today. It seemed kind of frivolous and disrespectful to do so last night, given the events at yesterday’s Boston marathon. My thoughts are with everyone there.)

I’ve mentioned before that Mr. D likes to shoot mini-videos during our sessions, but that they never played properly on my old computer. But of course, with my screaming fast new system, they load in no time and play beautifully. So I thought, cool, I’ll start sharing them here! Right?

Wrong. Stupid @#$%ing Blogger has decided to be uncooperative. Every time I try to post a video, I get an error message, with absolutely no explanation or alternative. Last night, I tried going to Spanking Tube and uploading something there. It froze, giving me the hourglass for a couple of hours, and I gave up. Today I tried again — same thing.

Hermione very kindly suggested Vimeo, so I went there. That worked, but with caveats: the size of video I can upload with a free membership is quite limited. Plus, it took over two hours to load and convert a video that was under two minutes. Argh. But… at least I was able to load something fun to show y’all.

Mr. D was in very toppy form once again yesterday, ordering me to keep still and giving me extra strokes when I didn’t. And I’m not talking about kicking here; I mean, simple and involuntary reflex movements, like a leg twitch. Goddammit! Just shoot me with a horse tranquilizer, why don’tcha. He finally relented and agreed to allow the natural reflexes. Now if I could just convince him that my middle finger has an automatic reflex.

I really wanted to show the video where he was using my Delrin cane, but that one exceeded the size limit. Suffice it to say, I was screeching at him for telling me not to flinch. “YOU try taking this without flinching and see how you like it!” I hollered. His response was, “Excuse me, did you say something?” And a quick little snap of the cane in the middle of my leg. @#$%&!!!!!!!! Big meanie!

(Not to worry; that was a light strike and the stripe faded quickly thereafter. Just enough to get my attention!)

And yes, I’m wearing dorky socks again. But they had cute XOX decorations on them that matched the color of my shirt.

I got lovely aftercare, of course, with two ice-packs this time.

And here, computer gods willing, is a quickie video. Make sure your sound is turned up so you can hear him asking who’s in charge, and my answer. 😉

MVI 9693 from Erica Scott on Vimeo.

Hope you enjoy! I sure did.