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 “October, 2014”

Video released!

You guys might remember that I had the great fortune of shooting with Pandora Blake when she was here last April and staying with Alex and Paul. (If you don’t, you can refresh your memory here.) We shot just one video, which was all that time would allow, but it was one of those shoots where I could just feel that it was going to be good. And now it’s out!

It’s called “The Workaholic,” and you can find it on Pandora’s Dreams of Spanking site. It’s a membership site, but even as a non-member, you can read a description, see some photos and watch a brief clip.

Paul and I have smashing chemistry in this and the camera work/editing is perfect. I’m thrilled! 😀  As usual, I surprised myself with how much I took on camera. Good old endorphins. Not to mention that Paul’s hairbrush/strap prowess is spot on and utterly delicious.

Oh, and to the busybody who keeps commenting everywhere that the hairbrush is fake and hollow? 1. it isn’t, and 2. go fuck yourself. 🙂

Once again, thank you, Kelly, for the plot idea! We had so much fun with it.

Right… speaking of workaholism, back to work for me.

Dear FetLife…

As I write this, your activity feed is down yet again. This week, it seems like it’s been down more than it’s been up. One time, it was down all day, when it was supposed to be down for an hour or so for “maintenance.”

Am I complaining? Au contraire. I wanted to thank you for the enforced break. Because it is only during these breaks that I realize what a stupefying amount of time I waste on you.

Yes, you have your moments, and I’m grateful for your existence. You keep me in touch with friends and events. You provide a venue where we kinkoids can support one another.

Or tear one another down, as the case may be, and often is.

Such a mixed bag that is FetLife. A place where one can see some exquisite photos of happy kinky people having fun… or of women with a pound of hot dogs or a deluxe pack of Crayola crayons stuffed in their snatch. Where a woman posts a photo of herself with vivid cane stripes in the vicinity of her kidneys — and gets 100s of “loves” on it.

A place where I love the connections I make… and a place where, despite how many lovely connections I have, I will fixate on the one person who unfriended and blocked me. A place of support and kindness… and a place of drama, popularity contests and sock puppetry.

A place where one can see a lot of kindness and support, like when the community came together to give financial assistance to a friend who had been felled by a heart attack. But also a place where one can see a whole lot of assholes (both literally and figuratively).

A place where sometimes I read amazingly articulate writings that seem to speak directly from my own heart and mind. And then, the very same day, I see an event called “Collard and Gangbanged.” That’s right — collard.

Sometimes I wish I could quit you, FetLife. I would gain so much precious time and probably be spared a great deal of annoyance. But I know I’m hopelessly addicted to you and will always drop back in, even if I drop out for a while. Because your social media siren song is powerful.

So please, do continue to have these breaks so I can get stuff done. But can you do me a favor? You know that stupid page that comes up when the feed is down, the one with all the crappy videos that are supposed to keep us entertained? You know that message at the top?

“Sorry my friend, but our feed is currently down.”

First, I’m not your friend. And second, will you please add a fucking comma after “sorry”? Every time I see that, it irks the hell out of me.

Thank you. And now, I have work to do.

Have a great weekend, y’all.

Some days…

… I feel like a really heavy-duty scene, laden with implements, pushing me to the edge and making the pent-up stress come bursting through my pores.

Yesterday wasn’t one of those days.

We both felt like a mellower scene, a simple but intense hand spanking, no implements. It was delicious. Sass was at a minimum, but he did manage to call me “Your Heinie-ness” at some point. (I’m sure he’s not the first to coin that. I’m not a huge fan of the term, but that made me laugh.)

We didn’t do anything fancy with photos, either, just a selfie or two on the couch. (Why am I getting a red squiggle under “selfie”? Get with it, Blogger. It’s a word. It’s officially in the dictionary.) I’m particularly fond of this one, poor quality and all:

And speaking of segues (I wasn’t, but I’m about to make one): Can someone please explain to me why feet are considered so fascinating? OK, I get the foot fetish thing, but I would think that would be more like nice feet with polished toes in some really sexy shoes. But plain bare feet? What’s the deal? 

Steve (and others in the past) have said that it’s fun to watch my feet during a scene, because they are apparently very active. They twitch, they curl, they rub up against each other. I am not aware of any of this. Yesterday, Steve took two pictures of my feet. Said he just had to capture them, because they looked so cute. Really? My feet?? Personally, I don’t think they’re all that sexy. When you’ve been walking on something for 57 years, it’s bound to look a bit hard ridden. But thank goodness for a bit of softening and changing it to black and white.

I thought about posting the above on FetLife for the foot folks, but then changed my mind. There’s this one guy who seemingly spends his days combing FL for pictures of feet and commenting on them. And it’s always the same thing, again and again and again, with minor variations: “You have such beautiful wrinkled soles.” “I love your sexy wrinkled soles.” “I wish I could kiss those wrinkled soles.” I swear, sometimes I feel like if I read that one more time, I’m going to plant my wrinkled sole right on his ass. Dude… get a clue. Nothing with the word “wrinkled” in it is a compliment to a woman. Unless you’re cooing to your female Shar-Pei.

So last week I was jammed with work, and this week I have zero. I guess it’s my opportunity to Get Stuff Done. Funny how I can never think of the Stuff I so urgently need to Get Done when I have time for it. Happy hump day.

Memory Lane

Recently, I was asked to choose 10-12 of my favorite photos from my kink years (videos, parties, private play, etc.). I have come to realize that is no easy feat. I have hundreds of photos I’ve collected over the past 18+ years. Plus, I’ve been busy with work, so I haven’t had time to really sit down and go through the archives.

However, in a lull over the past couple of days, I have started the process. And it’s been fun, digging through all this stuff. And challenging, too. I mean, there are countless photos of my butt, in various stages of undress and color. But what makes one stand out, makes it more interesting than the others? And what about my facial expression, body positioning, etc.? What makes a spanking picture compelling?

And of course, then there are tons of photos that don’t involve spanking itself, but are still from spanko occasions and they hold fond memories. Should I include those?

I was tickled to find one in particular that I hadn’t looked at in years. When I turned 40, my mother was begging me to have professional photos done because she had no recent pictures of me. Yeah, I thought, I’m not falling for that again. The last time I had a picture taken and framed it for her, she hated it. She put it up, but the next time I came over, I found it face down in a drawer. 

Still, some new pics would be nice. So I had a photographer take a full series of shots and let my mother choose what she liked from the proofs. (Fortunately, she did like some of them.)

Cut to 1999, when Eve Howard of Shadow Lane contacted me for the first time, asked for my measurements and clothing sizes, and a head shot.

What head shot?? Who had head shots? I wasn’t a professional actress. And it wasn’t like I could easily take one and shoot it to her. Digital cameras were in their infancy then, as I recall. Cell phone cameras weren’t around at all.

Then I remembered those proofs from the photo shoot two years prior, and I dug them up. Of course I didn’t have a scanner, so I took one of them to good old Kinko’s and had it scanned onto a floppy disk (!). 

So here’s the picture that sorta started it all:

Perhaps I’ll include it. I will finish choosing the others very soon. But for now, Steve is coming over. 🙂

In other news: John had a wonderful birthday weekend. Of course, no one in his family acknowledged it, but screw them. We went out for a nice dinner, I baked him brownies and bought him two new shirts, and pampered/fussed over him all weekend. No, I did not have the server at the restaurant bring him a piece of cake and sing to him. He hates having attention called to himself (the opposite of his attention-ho girlfriend!), so we save that kind of thing for me. But he was happy. ♥

Later, kids…

Adulthood is overrated

Pardon me while I whine. It’s hot and I’m crabby.

It has been a non-stop week. Work-wise, I’ve been doing a juggling act, and I was successful, got everything done on time, cleared my slate completely for the weekend. Interspersed with an unusually large amount of work was shopping for John’s birthday present and baking John’s birthday brownies (from scratch). The former is no easy feat, since the man is very particular about his likes and dislikes (but aren’t we all, really) and he hates gift cards. (How do y’all feel about gift cards? Me, I love them, both giving and receiving. It’s not about laziness or thoughtlessness; it’s about ensuring that people get exactly what they want.) I made it to all my workouts, I ran every necessary errand, I dotted every freaking i and crossed every t. I went and got a mammogram and a flu shot. I even ran like a maniac this afternoon in 98-degree heat because my parking meter was about to run out. I could have left my car in the bank lot (free) and snuck away to do my other errands in the vicinity, but no, I’m too honest for that! Meh.

When you’re a kid and you do things well, you get a gold star or ice cream or some damn thing to say “Hey, good for you!” But when you are a Responsible Adult, no one gives you a gold star — you’re just doing what you’re supposed to do.

Most of the time, I don’t think about that. Sometimes, though, I just want that fucking gold star. Not literally — you know what I mean, right? Sometimes, being responsible is thankless. And it especially pisses me off when I see others around me being IRresponsible, and I think to myself, “Why do I bother?” 

So I guess now is the time I’m supposed to do something nice for myself, like get a pedicure or a massage. Screw that — that would mean going outside again. Some (probably many) of you would suggest a “good girl” spanking. But as most of you know by now, I totally don’t get that dynamic and my whole attitude about it is “What’s the point??” 

Or perhaps I should just get a regular spanking for whining. Screw that, too — it’s my blog and I’ll whine if I want to. :-Þ

While I’m on a roll, it’s only October 3 and already, if I see one more Halloween ad with gross, decomposing zombies, I’m going to hurl. Whoever writes those uber-annoying Sprint commercials (the latest: a bunch of women in a restaurant shrieking excitedly about their iPhone plan and shattering every glass in the place) should be shot. And to the people at the gym who insist on jabbering away on their phones in their outdoor voices while they’re on the machines next to me, this one’s for you:

All apologies to one of my favorite movies, but really, it needed to be said.

Ah… the tension is ebbing a bit. Now I’m going to shower and get ready to leave for the weekend, brave the Friday night traffic, and celebrate my sweetie’s birthday with him. And I will be very, very sweet. Promise. 

Have a good weekend, y’all.

Bring back the cane???

That’s a phrase I’ve seen floating around quite often among the bloggery. Is that the name of one of those myriad Tumblr blogs? Bring it back? Did it go somewhere? Was it on summer vacation? 

Whatever. I disagree with that sentiment. This particular cane, for example, can go back to the hell from whence it came, and stay there. :-Þ

In other news, another fun-filled evening with Alex and SpankCake last night, and we broke our previous time record. We were in the restaurant from 6:00 to when they were practically vacuuming around us at 10:30. Then we went to the parking lot and talked there for nearly another hour. 

I have no idea where all this talking comes from, but I have a feeling we’re not going to run out anytime soon. I do love these ladies. ♥

Right. Must work. Happy Hump Day.

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