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 “May, 2015”

A play with spanking… and padding!

I probably am not the first person in the spanko blogosphere to post about this, so apologies if this isn’t new to you, but it’s hilarious nonetheless.

Apparently there is a new play showing in a small New York theater. Written by Robert Askins, it is called Permission (click on the title to read all about it), and it’s a satire on Christian Domestic Discipline. Granted, this won’t be for everyone — it’s bound to offend many with its “Spankings for Jesus!” flavor. And some of the reviews I’ve read are lukewarm. But still… here’s the deal. It’s jam-packed with spankings. OTK, hand, hairbrush, belt. Real spankings, not faked. When it’s live theater, you can’t fake it with camera angles and sound effects. You also can’t use a butt double cough cough Dakota Johnson cough.

Mind you, I’m not into DD, Christian or otherwise. (How come you never hear of Jewish Domestic Discipline? And just what would that entail, anyway? For me, just threaten to make me eat gefilte fish and I’ll be a good girl.) But what a subject to use for a mainstream play! The possibilities are endless. However, that’s not what I’m going to speculate on here. Plenty of others will do that.

Here’s the part that tickled me, and made it very clear that the spankings in this play are real — the costume designer had to purchase specially padded panties for the two women in the play, who endure multiple spankings per performance, and there are eight performances a week. Even die-hard spankos would struggle with this a bit, I think! They could have implied the spankings off-stage, or made them really wimpy, but they wanted authenticity. Hence, these:

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In a recent article all about the costuming for Permission (which you can read here, and I heartily recommend that you do), costume designer Paloma Young described the unique challenge of protecting the actresses from undue discomfort without compromising the authentic feel and sound of the spankings. Just reading about all the discussions and experiments cracked me up. Apparently, latex has a satisfying thwack, but polyurethane sounds too hollow. Who knew?

For spankos, delivering and receiving a spanking is kind of second nature. But for non-spankos, choreographing a spanking accurately is more of a challenge than you might imagine. I have to give kudos to everyone involved with this play, for working so hard to keep it real.

Whether or not the play is any good is another story. I’d be curious to hear about it from anyone who sees it!

Have a great weekend, y’all.

Yes, I’m in a bad mood

Trying to get some work done, and they are replacing some of the pipes in my apartment building. Pipes that are apparently very close to my unit. So, it’s been BANG BANG BANG, POUND POUND POUND, THUD THUD CRASH BANG for hours. This is not working wonders for my concentration, or for my temper.

So take a break, Erica. Go to the gym and work off the aggravation. Can’t. I tweaked my back and it hurts. No gym for me. I know better than to exercise when my back is out.

Steve left early this morning for his vacation. Haven’t heard from him since he called to cancel this week, last Sunday, and, despite his promises to write, to text, to send pictures, I can pretty much bet that I won’t hear from him again until after he comes home sometime next week. I know he doesn’t mean it. I know it’s not personal; it’s just what he does. He’s scattered and he forgets, especially when he’s all excited about a trip. Still sucks, though. It doesn’t take much to get me feeling forgotten, even though I know I’m not. Bleah.

I need a spanking like crazy. Sometimes, I really do wish I had more local top friends, ones who could step in when Steve isn’t available. Then again, I couldn’t play now anyway. Because, you know, my back hurts.

John is going back to work next Tuesday. I wish he were taking another couple of weeks off. He’s just starting to get his energy back, doing some odd jobs and projects around his house, and I wish he had a little more time to build up and be fully ready. But it’s been nine weeks. His friend and co-worker has been calling him nearly every day, regaling him with work stories (and no, they’re not fun, feel-good stories), which annoys the hell out of me. Why do people do that? What, is John supposed to feel guilty or something? He says he doesn’t mind, that in a way, it gets him prepared for what he’s coming back to. Meh. I didn’t want him thinking about work.

Just read online today that Maggie Gyllenhaal (you know, from Secretary), who is now 37, was turned down for a role playing the love interest of a 55-year-old man, because she’s “too old.” Thirty-seven is too old for a fifty-five-year-old?? UGH! I hate our ageist society. Just effing hate it. On FetLife, a woman wrote that her friends are making age jokes because it’s her 30th birthday. Sometimes, I want to slap people. Repeatedly.

Ugh. This day can kiss my ass.

By request

After posting the couch photo last week, I received a request to repost the couch photos I’d put up a few years ago. Trouble is, I have two different sets. The first one I took myself at home, with a camera timer. The second was done professionally — this guy had a bright red couch, and he was creating a photo series of several women posing nude on said couch. I’m not sure which set my reader meant. This one?

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Or this one?

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I actually like the one I did myself better. The reflection of my leg in the coffee table is sort of an artsy accident.

Anyway… no Steve this week. Or next week. Prepare for massive grumpiness. People have such nerve, taking vacations. grumble

I rarely do this, but…

With the ubiquitous nature of the spanko Tumblr sites, and the bazillions of photos making the rounds, it takes something extra special to make me give more than a glance. But every now and then, a certain picture will catch my eye and hold it. Something about the angle, the lighting, the body… overall, the aesthetics please me, and I will think, “Wow. That is stunning.”

I’ve happened upon this photo twice now in the Tumblr rounds, and didn’t see it credited. Does anyone know who this is, or where it’s from? I’m just curious. And even if you don’t, just enjoy it.

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This is a work of art, folks. I wish my back could arch that deeply. And the soft lighting makes her skin look like satin. Plus, it so perfectly captures the post-spanking peace. The only thing that could make this picture better is perhaps a man sitting on the sofa arm, caressing her hair.

Anyway… happy Friday. Last night SpankCake and I met for dinner — it had been way too long, and we had much to catch up on. We were sans Alex, because she’s back East, but we’ll catch up with her soon. By the way, we were at Cheesecake Factory, and even though they have an insane variety of cheesecakes, we eschewed those in favor of their chocolate black-out cake.

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This is a tie with my beloved German chocolate cake for Best. Cake. Ever. It does help if you like chocolate. 🙂 Neither one of us touched the whipped cream, though. It’s kinda redundant, what with all that richness.

Have a great weekend, y’all.

Outside the comfort zone

Those of you who have been following me for years, have read my book, etc., know that I have a bit of exhibitionism in me. I love playing in front of others. I’m obviously not camera-shy. And years ago, I sashayed down the bike path at a local park in the moonlight, wearing nothing but heels and stockings. So I guess, buried deeply within my careful and meticulously planned self, there’s a teeny part that enjoys taking a little risk too.

However, one place where I’ve never taken risks is where I live. Yes, I play inside my apartment and I’m sure neighbors have heard and wondered. But outside my door, I don’t mess around. John used to love to do naughty things in my hallway when we were leaving or coming home, like pull up my skirt, or loudly smack my butt. To these I would jerk away and hiss, “I have to live here!” Same thing with Steve. He always makes like he’s going to pull me out the door in nothing but my underwear (or less), and I parrot that identical phrase to him.

Yesterday, after we were done with a very thorough hand spanking, Steve said, “We’re going to go a little outside your comfort zone today.” My first reaction was to tense up, on the defensive. “Look at me,” he said, and I did. “It will take about five seconds. Will you trust me?” How bad could it be if it only took five seconds, I thought. Slowly, I nodded.

He got his camera ready, took off my top (my pants were already off, obviously), and told me to go into the corner by the door and strike a pose with my arms over my head. Ummm… OK. Didn’t see the harm in this, since I’ve done it many times before.

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“Good,” he said. Then he unlocked and cracked open my front door. “Now go and do the same thing in the hall.”

I stepped back. No way. With all those doors that could open any second?

He didn’t order; he knows that’s not my style. He convinced. “I can hear if someone is coming, and if I hear a door opening, I’ll push you back inside,” he said. “I’ll go into the hall first, make sure the coast is clear. Then I’ll say ‘ready, set, go,’ you jump out, I’ll snap a picture and you can dash back inside.” Again, he asked, “Will you trust me?”

That’s when my mind clicked over. This wasn’t about exhibitionism. This was an exercise in trust. I knew I didn’t have to do it if I really didn’t want to, if I didn’t feel safe, if I was afraid. And that’s exactly why I did it. Because I do trust him.

So when he gave me the cue, I scooted out the door, struck a pose, and as soon as I heard the camera click, I was back in my living room, my heart pounding.

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He was right; it didn’t take more than a few seconds. But it pleased him so much. And yeah, I was a little thrilled too. I’ve forgotten lately what it’s like to let go, be a little crazy.

We then headed into the bedroom for my “reward.” No, not that kind of reward. I’m a spanko, remember? This kind of reward.

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And then all was well in my little world for a while.

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In other news, John is now up to walking for an hour twice a day. Of course, after each one, he is exhausted and has to take a nap, but it’s progress. I’m looking forward to when he can get some of his tone and muscle back. He’s so very thin right now…

Back to work with me. Happy hump day.

Sorry/not sorry for having a voice

Yesterday, I reactivated my FetLife account. For the most part, it was a positive experience; got a lot of welcome back comments and messages, and some new friend requests. But of course, the peanut gallery had to pipe up as well.

Before the 50 Freaks party in February, I had posted a video on FL of Steve giving me a pre-party “warm-up.” I was in full sass mode for this one (what a surprise), and we had a lot of banter. I got mostly positive feedback on it, with the exception of these two comments:

gag her. she’s annoying

and

What a nice ass! But I agree about gagging her.

Well, nuts to both of you. At the time, I posted this in reply:

Some people, including my beloved top, like me just the way I am, mouth and all. So, with all due respect, up yours.

Then yesterday, the same video got this gem:

Vids have great potential, however, the chit-chat is very annoying. Hard to watch!

Then don’t watch, stupid. It’s really that simple.

Checked out this commenter’s profile. He identifies as an “alpha male” — in other words, he has a small dick. 🙂 And just before commenting on my video, he had clicked “Love” on a video posted by a guy who’s well known for beating the ever-loving sh*t out of women’s bottoms. Figures!

Oooh, he thinks my videos have great potential! Maybe I should try doing them professionally. huh? Oh, wait. I’ve been doing that for fifteen years.

Geez, people. I get it that my style isn’t everyone’s cup of kink. I know some people think I talk too much, sass too much, interact with the top too much. You’re certainly entitled to your preferences. As am I. I would prefer that if you don’t like my stuff, you move on and watch something you do like. Because I’m not interested in your critiques.

I have a rep that precedes me; people pretty much know what they’re going to get when they watch me. And some people enjoy my feistiness. They like a little challenge from a bottom. They know I can take what I dish out. They appreciate the dynamics between me and my top(s). For these folks, I am very grateful, and I will continue to entertain you for as long as you want me to. 🙂

As for the critics who wish to silence me:

Erica's Helpful Hints -- the Monday edition

(OK, so this is an old photo, as evidenced by the old-time monitor, the fax machine, and the fact that I’m hiding the lower portion of my face. But the message remains current!)

Have a great weekend, y’all.

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