Reflections on 2013

The blogosphere has been sort of Holiday Lite lately. I’m having a quiet New Year’s Eve Day; was supposed to see Steve, but the poor man finally succumbed to the stomach flu his son brought home on his holiday visit. Blech. Rotten timing. So I figured I’d take the created gap of free time and reflect a bit on the past year, quickly scanning over the last 12 months of blogs. Pardon me while I ramble.

On the down side, there were a lot of tears. Such is the mercurial life of a depressive. There was a great deal of worry about John and his health issues. There were ups and downs with Steve. There was the usual host of money/job worries, hurts and disappointments, insecurities and doubts.

But on the plus side, there were many fun times too. John and I went to two wonderful scene parties (50 Freaks and Shadow Lane). I got to shoot three times, and I published another book. Made some new friends. Wrote a lot of thought-provoking posts, here and on FetLife, and even made it to the #1 spot on Kinky & Popular with one of them. John and I had a terrible scare with a potential blackmailer, but we seem to have dodged that and we’re very relieved and grateful. And I now know that Steve is here to stay. He’s proven to me that I’m not just some temporary stopgap until his Ms. Right comes along. I may not be his girlfriend, but I still matter. I am not dispensable.

I still vacillate, wondering what my place is in the scene, in the blogosphere, in the general scheme of all things kink-wise. A few months ago, the good folks at Cane-iac started putting out a newsletter, and they asked if I’d like to have a regular feature in it. I was delighted to be asked, and we decided to make it an open-ended thing, calling it “Ask Erica.” Readers were invited to send in a question for me, and for each newsletter issue, I’d choose one and answer it. Those whose questions were selected would get a discount on the order of their choice.

Well. The first issue, we got five or six questions. The second, just a couple of CHoS-worthy queries, so I answered another question from the first batch. And the third issue, nothing.

They asked me if I’d like to change the column to “Erica’s Corner” and simply write about whatever I thought people would want to read. It was very sweet of them, but I didn’t want to beat a dead horse. Clearly, people out there had run out of questions to ask me. I’d answered them all. And if they want to read my writing, that’s what this blog is for. I didn’t need to take up space on Cane-iac’s newsletter.

So yeah, sometimes I wonder. I think about Bonnie, who just announced her retirement from blogging, much to our great sadness. She will be missed, but she felt it was her time, that all her best posts had already been written. I wonder if it’s the same thing with me, if I should retire too.

But you know what? I don’t want to. I love writing. I love blogging. I love sharing my thoughts and feelings, and getting feedback on them. There will always be something fresh and new to say. And there will always be new readers who haven’t heard it all before.

There will be play, there will be parties, there will be fun spanky thoughts, ready to unfold and experience. I’m not ready to say goodbye to any of it. Looks like y’all are stuck with me, for better or worse, for a while.

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions, as you know. I simply try to look forward and keep myself open and ready for what’s to come.

John’s heart surgery is on hold indefinitely, since (knock wood) it’s not an urgent need and he’s managing to keep himself functioning with diet and exercise, and keeping his weight down. For now, his plan is to 1) get the rest of his dental work done (he had a bad tooth pulled, and now that that’s healed, he needs to get a post and crown), and 2) deal with his sleep apnea, which was recently diagnosed. We thought his chronic exhaustion was due to his heart, but it turns out that the quality of his sleep is very poor. So he’s currently exploring which will be a better solution: a CPAP unit or a dental device. 

I hope to find more work next year. But in the meantime, I’m hanging in there. And say what you want about Obamacare, but thanks to the new laws, I was able to switch to another plan that’s a little cheaper. Now instead of insanely exorbitant, it’s merely too expensive. 🙂  I could have gone even cheaper, but then I’d have high deductibles, and I don’t want those. This new plan has no deductibles. And I’ve gone from $1205 a month to $782. 

Speaking of shoots, the little quickie clip I shot for Amateur Spankings is up on their site. This photo cracks me up; I guess it was taken during the portion when Gary was scolding us off-camera for blowing off our scheduled session. I’ve got my “Who, me???” righteous indignation face on.

And finally, since I’m randomly blathering about things that make me happy, I received a certificate from the Writers Guild of America, on my father’s behalf. They recently chose a list of the 101 best written TV series in the past seven decades, and The Carol Burnett Show was #37. For the sake of discretion, I covered up his name and replaced it with “My Father” in this photo scan. But I just had to share it, since I’m so very proud.

It looks much prettier than this in reality; the border and the logo are in gold. I need to find a nice frame.

John is working today, but later, after he comes home, I’ll go over there after I pick up some food for our dinner. We’ll watch a movie, see the ball come down, toast each other with champagne at midnight. I look forward to it. And along with being with my love, I will silently toast my top Steve as well, looking forward to another year of play and wonderful connection.

So, happy 2014 to my friends, loved ones, readers, commenters, lurkers. I hope the new year brings you joy and peace. ♥

Just felt like sharing this…

For yesterday’s more typical Erica post, click here. Right now, take a minute-and-a-half for something sweet.

All of us “of a certain age” remember these guys as being a quartet of goofballs with a string of pop hits in the 1960s. However, I stumbled upon this little clip of the four of them singing a Spanish carol a capella, and thought it was simply beautiful. They really could sing, all silliness aside. Enjoy. 🙂

Santa Baby…

…just slip a paddle under the tree, for me… Been an awfully bad girl…

Oh, wait. I already did this year’s parody. Never mind.

It’s 10 PM on Christmas Eve here, and I’ve already had my visit from Santa.

Well, sort of. I guess he was one of Santa’s representatives. He had a Santa hat, and he brought an extra one for me. Weird, though… he wasn’t fat, he was clean-shaven and he had black hair. Who knew? 

I dressed up for him, wearing a festive red dress complete with stockings and pumps. And I even put on that stupid hat. Some Jew.

Whoever he was, he was certainly mischievous and perverse. I couldn’t even take a minute to freshen my makeup without him sneaking up behind me and… well, see for yourself. 

He wanted to know all the naughty things I’d done in 2013, and he asked me while I was bent over the ottoman. Come on. How am I supposed to think back over the past year and come up with specifics, while in such a disgraceful position? I couldn’t do it! Not to mention that I was having wardrobe distress. Not only did that damn hat keep falling off my head, but my boobs were falling out of my dress. He didn’t care; he still thought some coercion was in order.

(If you look close, you’ll see that I was indeed in danger of falling out of my dress. This didn’t seem to bother him in the least.)

He had this annoying pattern of swatting me in threes — because of the three Wise Men, don’cha know. (eye roll) “Is three an odd number?” he asked. “YOU’RE an odd number!” I snapped.

And just what the hell is he up to here??

(Damn… Santa’s helpers certainly are buff these days.)

The more I tried to come up with my naughty list, the more I miserably failed and he just kept on trying to get it out of me. But finally, I prevailed. He was talking about Santa’s reindeer, and I blurted, “Yeah, there are only seven this year, because Comet has to stay home and clean the sink!”

He started laughing so hard, he completely lost it. So much for that scene. 😀 (And yes, I know that joke was terrible.)

I laughed too. In fact, I was giggling so convulsively, I fell off the ottoman.

Oh, and did I mention that we watched a movie, too? Which one, you ask? Miracle on 34th Street? It’s a Wonderful Life? White Christmas?

Nahhh. We watched The Bad Seed. (Hey, it’s one of my favorite old movies and he’d never seen it before. Nothing like a film about a murderous child to really bring out that joyous holiday spirit!)

So, it’s done for another year. I got past the holiday party over the weekend, too. Believe it or not, it wasn’t too bad. There was food I could actually eat, for once. The music was very loud, but it was good, and John and I got comfortable chairs right near the band, so we parked ourselves there and I didn’t have to do any mingling. I could smell pot all around me and people were getting drunk, but we left before it got too late. Oh, and we even danced a little. John’s sister slurred told me four different times that I’m a good dancer, but I’m chalking that up to the alcohol. I got my toes stepped on a few times, but at least no one spilled a drink on me or groped my boob this year.

Whatever you’re celebrating, my friends — happy/merry/joyous everything. I hope you’re doing exactly what you want, with people you enjoy. And don’t forget, after tomorrow, the fruitcake once again goes back to being a colorful paperweight.

(Oh, come on. Who actually eats those @#$%ing things?)

Christmas carol parody, 2013

Sorry to have been MIA this week. The stomach bug pretty much curtailed everything for a few days. But I am feeling much better physically, appetite has returned, back to the gym, etc.

And of course, I couldn’t forget about my annual holiday parody. For those new to this blog, you can read last year’s parody here, and 2011’s parody here.

This time, I’ve chosen that old winter standard, Let It Snow. Here is the song, plus the real lyrics:



And here is my version: A lovely couple get together for a cozy evening during the holidays, but she starts acting up. What’s a toppy man to do?

Oh, her attitude has been frightful

But her bottom’s so delightful

And since she’s making such a row

Spank her now! Spank her now! Spank her now!

Oh, she doesn’t show signs of stopping

And her bratting has you hopping

So pull her panties way down low

Make her glow! Make her glow! Make her glow!

When she kicks and puts up a fight

She will yell till she drowns out the storm

But if you really spank her right

All through the night she’ll be warm!

Her sassing is slowly dying

And in your arms, she’s crying

So tell her you love her so

Let her know, let her know, let her know!

She’d been asking for it all night

How you hated to bare her behind

But a spanking makes things all right

After it’s done, please be kind!

Now her words are no longer hateful

And for this, you both are grateful

So dry her tears and kiss her nose

Hold her close! Hold her close! Hold her close!

I hope you enjoyed that. And for an added bonus, I have a photo for your viewing pleasure. Warning: It is rude. I wasn’t going to post it at all, but then today, Hermione posted a Friday Fail of tacky holiday photos. I noticed that one of her selections (the second from the top) was sort of similar to my photo, but not with a rude word. I mentioned my photo in my comment to her, and she encouraged me to go ahead, post it. So, there you have it. Hermione made me do it. 😀

In other news — I cross-posted my PSA to FetLife at the same time as I blogged it here. The reaction blew me away — wave after wave of comments and “Loves,” and people sharing their own horror stories and additional tips for how to stay safe. As of this writing, the post has 1,423 Loves and 338 comments. 

Steve came over on Wednesday, but of course I was too sick to play. We gave each other much-needed hugs, though. I am hoping to see him on Tuesday, Christmas Eve, for some holiday spanking play.

So, you know that annual drunken bacchanal Christmas party John’s sister and brother-in-law didn’t have last year? Guess what? It’s baaaaack! (Joy to the World.) Trying to put a positive spin on it; I guess it will be good for both John and me to get out of the house and join some festivities, since we’ve both been sick and miserable. Oh, please. Who am I kidding — it’s going to suck. But I’ll get through it. I may have to escape to the bathroom and text a friend, but I’ll make it. 

Have a great weekend, y’all.

A Public Service Announcement — Very Important

Not my usual blog, folks. I will have no play stories, as I’m sick. Not sure with what — no congestion or sore throat or anything from the neck up. Just a very queasy stomach, plus aches all over and slight fever. But I’m a bit better — am actually sitting up at the computer. Yesterday, I was horizontal the entire day. Not in a fun way, either.

No, I have a story for you, and want to share some information that is important to us all.

As most of you know by now, my John is a switch, and, like many of us, has met play partners online. He’s been in the scene over 30 years, and has had many experiences, but nothing like what happened to him recently. And yes, I do have his OK to post this.

In the beginning of November, he was contacted on Alt.com by a fem domme who started out asking for money. This is common in the scene — no, I’m not talking about pro dommes now. Pro dommes provide a service, just as sessioning pro subs do — pay for play. But then you have what’s known as “finance dommes” — they seek out the men who get off on giving them gifts and cash, without asking for anything in return. And I’m not talking about little trinkets or some pretty lingerie here. I’m talking cars, rent, paying for cosmetic surgeries, student loan payoffs, etc. Big bucks. You may wonder, who does that?? You’d be surprised. 

Fortunately, John does not do the finance domme thing, so he politely told her no, I’m sorry, I cannot give you money. Usually that’s the point where they get angry and dismiss him, and move on. This one didn’t. She took a different tactic, keeping him engaged. She started IMing with him, sending him pictures, talking about meeting. They emailed a few times. She asked for pictures of him. He sent them. She asked if he had a webcam; he said no. So she cyber-dommed him a bit.

So far, it was going like most of these online things go. I’ve done it myself, countless times.

On Thanksgiving weekend, John got tired of the exchange going nowhere and once again suggested that they meet in person. In the wee hours of Saturday night, she messaged him. “I have an alternate proposition,” she said.

She then went on to state his full name, where he worked, the jobs he’d held previously, and where he went to college. And told him that if he didn’t wire her $15,000, she’d out him to his work.

I woke up around 5:00 needing to use the bathroom, and I saw the light on in his office. When I came out, he told me what was happening. I felt sick, literally. I had to sit down. I can’t begin to imagine how he must have been feeling at that moment. Terrified, powerless, cornered. It was the middle of the night on a holiday weekend. There was no one to contact. It was just the two of us in shock. He could lose his job. He’d just bought a small condo near his work to avoid the long commute. He needed the job’s benefits for his upcoming heart surgery. His reputation would be ruined and who knows where he’d find another job.

When John said, “I guess I don’t have to worry about the heart surgery now, because this will kill me,” my own heart shattered into a million pieces.

We talked a bit. He couldn’t figure out how she’d learned his full name or his workplace, since he hadn’t told her either one. Then we figured out that, in his email, his full name shows in the return address. How many people are aware of that? I was, but many others aren’t. You have to go to your email settings and make sure only your first name shows, or your pseudonym, or whatever, or else what shows is the name you used to sign up. I asked him if he’d ever mentioned what kind of work he does, and he confessed that he had. So I went to Google and plugged in his full name + engineer. Bang. The first listing was his LinkedIn account. He doesn’t have a photo there, but she knew it was him.

We both knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything substantive as far as legalities were concerned until the weekend was over, so in the meantime, I suggested some friends who could perhaps give some helpful advice. We emailed a couple of them, and then I got back into bed while John continued to research on the computer. I couldn’t sleep, of course. I just shook like I had a fever.

He was able to figure out that this woman wasn’t local. Her Alt.com account has been suspended for abuse (what a surprise), but he Googled the email address he had for her. Google came up with a Russian dominatrix site. This was probably some sort of international extortion group. 

On Monday, John swung into action with phone calls and emails. Various friends had gotten back to him, he contacted the Internet Crime Complaint Center (which is a partner of the FBI), Cyber Investigation Services and Data Chasers. He learned quite a bit in a short time — for one thing, this sort of thing is shockingly common. It even has a name: “Romance Scam.” Google it; you’ll be amazed. That’s why she’d asked if he had a webcam — that’s what these blackmailers do most. They get a video, and then threaten to send that to bosses, families, etc., unless the victim pays up. And of course, if they pay once, then they’re on the hook permanently. Because the blackmailers don’t go away. They keep coming back for more.

The advice he received unanimously? 1. Do NOT send any money, and 2. Cease all contact with her. Because in most cases, as the CIS and others told him, these operators usually have several victims on a string and will move on quickly to the next if you don’t engage with them. If you continue to engage, if you seem scared or hesitant, they will continue to badger you. But if you ignore them, most of the time they move on. They’re in this to make money, not exact vengeance. It isn’t personal.

So. John stopped replying to her messages. He changed his LinkedIn profile from public to private. And we waited. He was told that if he didn’t hear from her for two weeks, he could pretty much consider that it was over.

It’s now been a little over two weeks. He hasn’t heard a word from her, although he can still see that she’s logged into Yahoo IM. Probably working on someone else. Each day that goes by, we breathe a little easier. Perhaps he dodged a bullet. A huge, life-shattering bullet.

So why am I going public with this? Because it could happen to any of us, particularly those of us who engage on the kinky social media sites. We all have wonderful friends and nurturing companions, and sometimes, we forget about the predators and those who will ruin our lives and think nothing of it.

We cannot live in fear, but we can take precautions. First, as I mentioned, make sure your email does not show your full name. And better yet, always have separate addresses — one for kink folks, and one for work/vanilla.

Do not post face pictures on kinky sites. This one is tough, because people who are going to engage with you want to know what you look like. If you get to know them a bit after some correspondence, send a photo attached to an email that has nothing to do with the site. That way, they can’t prove any connection between you and the site. (Yes, I know, my face is on FetLife and everywhere else. But I’m pretty much out. There’s no way to blackmail me — I don’t have an office job, I don’t have family, I don’t have kids.)

Don’t webcam with people you don’t know. I can’t say this enough.

Don’t reveal your personal information unless you get some from them as well. And even then, proceed with caution. If someone’s behavior is suspicious or strange to you, trust your instincts. Better safe than sorry.

If you meet someone for the first time in a public place, park offsite and walk a little ways. That way, they will not see your car. If they have access to your license plate, they have access to you.

If God forbid you should find yourself in the same situation John did, here are some resources.

1. The IC3 (Internet Crime Complaint Center).

2. Cyber Investigation Services (CIS).

3. If you need a lawyer, and you would like a KAP (Kink Aware Professional), you can check out the NCSF (National Coalition for Sexual Freedom) site. They are a resource of professionals (attorneys, doctors, therapists, etc.) who are familiar with the world of kink and the laws that pertain to it. 

4. John’s harasser was not local, so that makes it much more difficult to track her down and arrest her. However, if you are being harassed, threatened or blackmailed locally, you can contact Data Chasers.

I hope no one we know will have to experience the sick and helpless fear that John had to deal with. It’s been a rough time — I think we both got this bug because our defenses were down due to stress. This, on top of the damn holidays and worrying about all the other existing issues. And last but not least, I came home from the weekend to find out I’d lost my best and most regular client. 

Not having a good time, folks. Really, really not. Steve is coming by to visit me later this afternoon. I can’t play, but I sure could use a hug. 

Take care, everyone. Play safe, be mindful. Please hold a good thought that John has indeed heard the last of this woman. And to the friends who took the time to give words of comfort, encouragement and advice to John (and y’all know who you are), a most heartfelt thank you.

Correspondence Hall of Shame, 12/13

Ah, it’s a Friday the 13th edition. Frankly, I’d much rather have black cats crossing my path than these brainless boobs.

I think I need to drive to [my city] to spank that ass. This experienced dom daddy will do whatever is necessary to bring you into a state of extasy.

Oh, that’s easy. 1. Learn how to spell “ecstasy”; 2. Don’t send a dick pic to someone who has specifically requested “no dick pics”; and 3. Go fuck yourself.

A while back, Hermione showcased some of the ridiculous spam messages we get. You know, the ones that chat with us in a familiar vein, and then encourage us to visit their site? I got one that was so inane, I had to share it:

Today, I went to the beach with my children.
I found a sea shell and gave it to my 4 year old daughter and said
“You can hear the ocean if you put this to your ear.”
She placed the shell to her ear and screamed. There was a hermit crab inside and it pinched her ear.
She never wants to go back! LoL I know this is entirely off topic but I had to tell someone! Visit my blog at… etc.

Ummmm… OK. Had to tell someone, huh? What a sad life you lead if the only person with whom you could share this folksy little tale is a complete stranger with a kinky blog. 🙂 

I want to slap your ass until it gets red. And then ı want to put a cream on it which ı produced…

I’ll just bet you produced it. Ewwww. I’ll stick with my St. Ives body lotion, thanks.

Of course, no CHoS is complete without one of these:

How are you still so hot at your age?? Is that a terrible question?

I’ll answer your second question: Yes. And I have my own question: How are you still so clueless at your age??

This same guy also commented on one of my videos with Steve:

Sorry, I could do it better. Damn! I am so arrogant.

Why, yes. Yes, you are. 🙂 And no. No, you couldn’t. Not in a million years.

And finally — I posted about this one on FetLife, since I received it there, but it bears repeating here as well:

i would love to have you sit on my face as you tie me up sticking out my tongue as you rock and gyrate your hips running your clit over my tongue your juices flowing down my face soaking me pulling me deeper into your pussy as i lick you for hours making you cum over and over again drenching my head making it look as i just got done taking a shower before bending you over and grabbing your hair as i slam my dick into your tight wet pussy pounding it good and hard making you moan loud as you push back into each of my powerful thrusts making you squirt all over my hard dick letting it drip off my balls and run down our legs making you cum again and again i pull out and lick up all of your juices not letting any of them go to waste before i plow back into you exploding a massive hot sticky load of cum deep inside your tight pussy then i would lick your tight little asshole before driving my dick nice and deep into it making you cum so had it drips off my balls and runs down our legs

I don’t know what offends me more — the content, or the fact that this massive missive has absolutely no punctuation. You’ve been watching too much porn, Junior. The only thing I’m going to drench your head with is a glass of ice water. Snap out of it.

Hope this provided some laughs. Perhaps some of you could use a snicker or two. I know I could. Have a great weekend, y’all.